Unexpected Grace: Wilderness Discoveries
Rev. Eugene N. Nelson, Jr.
The Community Church of Sebastopol
February 21, 2010
Luke 4:1-13
Jesus says no. That to me is the most amazing, the most challenging aspect of this familiar text. Jesus says no, and he says no to good stuff. It’s not like he’s offered drugs or illicit sex or the opportunity to cheat on his taxes. He is offered some of the things our culture most cherishes: abundance – bread – the opportunity to feed himself and others; to feed the whole world – power over every kingdom of the world – think of all the good you could do, all the changes you could make; and religion – a little spiritual show business, the chance to dramatically demonstrate that, yes, he truly is God’s son. God’s chosen. He has before him three excellent offers. Do all this, he’s told, and no one will be able to stop you. You will be able to exceed your wildest expectations. But Jesus says –no!
Now, as I’ve said, we’ve barely met him. He hasn’t even started his public ministry, and already he is at odds with much of the disposition of our culture. Says one scholar, “Our favorite slogan is not ‘No!’ Our favorite slogans are things like, ‘Go for it!’ or ‘You deserve it!’ or ‘Yes!’ If we want it, we have the duty to do everything possible to get it. And if we can have it, we have the responsibility to take it. I mean our consumer society depends on nothing less. Don’t deny thyself, we are told, say, ‘Yes!’” But Jesus says – no!
I once heard about a young woman who made excellent grades in college. Her professors encouraged her to go on to graduate school, telling her that she had a bright future ahead of her in the academic field she had chosen. But she said, “No.” Instead she chose a career of community service, working for a meager salary in a community agency that assists poor women and their children. One of her professors told her, “This is a waste. You are wasting your God-given talents in turning your back on a career. You ought to use your talents.” She was messing everything up. Just one person running around, daring to renounce the way of conventional wisdom, daring to say “No!”, one person who refuses to go along to get along, throws a monkey wrench into all the assumptions and expectations of the present world. And remember, in Jesus’ case, he is turning away from what the world considers to be an opportunity really to make a difference. It’s interesting how Satan in this text really isn’t so much the voice of evil, as the voice of conventional wisdom. Just do it – do it Jesus, everyone else does!
Now when we encounter this text, of course, there’s always the question…did this really happen? In the wilderness, did Jesus actually encounter something or someone known as Satan who tempted him? Certainly there were no eye witnesses. Actually, when we read this narrative, we become the eye witnesses. And what do we see? Well, I believe we see a struggle within Jesus’ own soul. Just what was going to be the shape of his life? To whom would he give his loyalty? Which path would he follow?
His hair was still wet from baptism, the words affirming him as God’s beloved, God’s chosen, were still ringing in his ears, and now here he was, alone, struggling with these questions, these temptations. And what devilishly tempting possibilities they were. Here, choose the path of the spectacular and powerful, the way of worldly relevance and success. Only a fool would follow a path of humble service and sacrifice, a path that could very well lead to a cross. Call it Satan, call it a soul-struggle, but surely the lines were drawn, there, in the wilderness as Jesus wrestled with the meaning of his life and ministry. And I have to wonder how his experience, his struggle, might resonate in our own lives. My guess is that we all know that one doesn’t have go get lost in the desert for forty days to find oneself alone in the wilderness, struggling with the shape and nature of our life, with the temptation to compromise our values and beliefs in order to satisfy the kingdoms of the world and all their many expectations.
I’ve told you before about Fred Craddock’s friend, Buck. Says Craddock, one of my favorite preachers, “I used to go home to west Tennessee for Christmas, where an old high school friend of mine had a restaurant. I called him Buck. Go home for Christmas, stop by to say hello and get a piece of pie and cup of coffee – free. ‘Merry Christmas, Buck,’ I’d say. It was the same every year.
“And so I went in, ‘Merry Christmas, Buck.’
“But this year he said, ‘Let’s go for coffee.’
“I said, ‘But isn’t this a restaurant?’
“He said, ‘I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder.’
“So we went for coffee. We sat there and pretty soon he said, ‘Did you see the curtain?’
“Yes, I saw the curtain, Buck, I always see the curtain.’ What he meant by curtain was this: There are a number of buildings in that little town called shotgun buildings – they’re long buildings with two entrances, one in the front and one in the back: One off the street and one off the alley, with a curtain and a kitchen in the middle. Shotgun building because they are so long you can shoot a shotgun in one door and it comes out the other end. His restaurant was in one of those buildings. In those days, if you were white you came in off the street; if you were black, you came in off the alley behind the curtain.
“He said again, ‘Did you see the curtain?’
“’Yes, I saw the curtain.’
“He said, ‘The curtain has got to come down.’
“’Good, take it down.’
“’That’s easy for you to say. Come in here from out of state and tell me how to run my business.’
“I said, ‘then leave it up.’
“He said, ‘I can’t leave it up.’
“’Then take it down.’
“’I can’t take it down!’ Buck was in terrible shape. After while he said, ‘If I take that curtain down, I lose a lot of my customers. If I leave that curtain up, I lose my soul.’”
You don’t have to be wandering in the desert to find yourself alone in the wilderness – struggling with Satan? – struggling with your own soul, finding yourself, your values, your priorities, your self-understanding tested. Have you ever been there? We’ve all been there. There are weeks when the battle rages within me from Monday ‘til Saturday. I recall the time when Lucy shows Charlie Brown a small pile of little pebbles. “This,” she tells him, “represents your virtues.” Then she shows him a huge boulder. “This,” she says, “represents your ‘many faults.’” Then she adds, “Don’t you think you’re lucky to have me around to point out these things in such a graphic manner?”
I think we could say the same thing about our text. Thanks for the graphic reminder Luke, not only of Jesus’ struggle, but also my own struggle. Thanks for the reminder of all the times that I, unlike Jesus, compromise my deepest values and desires, all the times I am unable to be or fail to be the person I most want to be, all the times I have worshipped at the altar of lesser gods who promise to be more responsive to all of my needs.
But Jesus does what I so often fail to do. Jesus says no. And in so doing, he is able to hold onto his own soul and not sell it for the delusions that power or wealth or material goods can create. He gains clarity about his commitments and the path he must follow. He emerges with a renewed awareness of another power who has laid a claim on his life and how he must now live his life. And before long he is out there inviting and attracting others to that very same life.
Now, I read this text, this is a humbling thing to say and I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I’m not Jesus. But the good news of this text is it assures me I don’t have to be, you don’t have to be. He stood alone in his struggle. I don’t have to; we don’t have to. I mentioned earlier that there are those weeks when the battle rages within me from Monday to Saturday. But then I come here, we come here, and what do we find? Well hopefully, we discover that we share with others who have wandered in the wilderness, and who have been tested. We discover we aren’t alone after all. We discover, here among us, the very spirit of the One who stood face to face with evil, with temptation, with the demons in his own soul, and who said no, and who was able to choose a different way. And he stands with us now, assuring us that his and only his is the final word. As AA and the12 step folk remind us, we can look to a power greater than ourselves. Here there are sources of support, sources of strength and direction, to hold and nurture us in all our times of testing. Here we can tell the devil in whatever form he may appear, to get lost, as we decide who we will be and whose we will be. Here, with Christ’s help, with the help of each other, we can find space to wonder if some new flame might be kindled where before we have sensed only darkness and night, and here we can decide to settle for nothing less than that new flame.
Ah, let us not be afraid to confront, not what’s out there in the world, but what’s here, in our own hearts. For if I’m accurately reading this familiar text, the great achievement for any person is not so much the something he or she does, as the someone he or she becomes.