09 March 2014 “No Turning Around” Matthew
4:1-11
Matthew’s gospel does
not spend a lot of time drawing out the story of the birth of Jesus, nor does
it spend any time telling us about Jesus’ life as a child, a teenager, or even
a young adult. The movement in the gospel is from his birth directly to John
the Baptist baptizing and proclaiming Jesus as the one who will baptize us with
the Holy Spirit and fire. God tells us, “This is my Son, the beloved with whom
I am well pleased.” Then Jesus exits stage left for the wilderness.
He exits but we go
with him. There, in the wilderness, Jesus fasted forty days and forty nights,
and afterwards he was famished. Famished
for something to eat we would expect.
But the story takes an
interesting turn. The tempter came and began testing Jesus. Was this Jesus’
hunger? Did he hunger for a test, for a fight, for a challenge? Had he spent
his time in the wilderness for this? He was, after all, led up by the Spirit to
be tempted by the devil. But I wonder, were these tests really necessary?
An article in the Boston Globe tells of the situation
Stephanie Yeh faced in the spring of 2006. Ms. Yeh was brilliant, Massachusetts
Institute of Technology kind of brilliant. She had aced the course work in
electrical engineering and computer science and was ready to work as a Wall
Street analyst. But there was one test left, and it had absolutely nothing to
do with electrical engineering, or computer science, or Wall Street. Stephanie
Yeh had to swim 100 yards to graduate.
MIT was one of a
handful of top schools in the country that required students to pass a swim
test before they graduate. Ms. Yeh, who never learned how to swim, apparently
wondered about the rational for a swim test. Her response to the requirement was “I mean,
who cares if you can swim?” In other words, is this test really necessary.”
Many have probably
asked this question about Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness. Was this test
really necessary? After all, Matthew had already revealed some things about
Jesus that make a wilderness trek seem unnecessary. There was the miraculous conception, the
remarkable visit from the magi, and the voice from heaven that made it clear:
“This is my son.” What more could one ask for in a resume? Yet the text says
that the Spirit led Jesus to a test in a place of desolation.
There is a diversity
of opinion in scripture about the nature of divine temptation and testing. From
Genesis, God seems to be testing Adam. In other passages, however, there is a
question as to whether God tests us or whether temptation is even necessary.
Jesus teaches us to pray in a way that asks us not to be tempted. James 1:13-14
stresses that God is not the source of temptation; instead, we are tempted by
our own desires.
Nearly all people of
faith would agree that we should ask for God’s guidance in our daily lives, and
that we do receive guidance. Do we also believe that God leads us only into
situations that are filled with warm affirmations given by, as the rock group
R.E.M.’s song goes, “shiny, happy people”?
Surely not. But as
with any biblical interpretation, there is a tricky balance. Regardless of
whether one thinks tests come from God or another source, it is helpful to
think about how Jesus responds to tests.
Consider again the
swimming requirement. In the Boston Globe
article, Belkin summarizes various ways that the students respond to this
requirement. About half of the first-year undergraduates jump in and pass the
test during their first two weeks on campus. Others procrastinate. Still
others, those who cannot swim or are afraid of water, take a Swimming 101
class.
But for many even the
class is a daunting proposition. These are MIT students, after all. They
overthink the process. “They want to learn what angle to hold their arms,” said
an MIT lifeguard. “I just tell them to go ahead and try it; don’t worry about
the physics or the geometry.”
The students’
reactions to the swimming requirement parallel the ways we respond to our own
daily tests, the ones that we face here and now. Some of us meet our challenges
head on. Some avoid conflicts and put them off. Some think too much without
doing anything. Maybe we have employed all three tactics. Thankfully, Jesus
shows us a better way.
Jesus does not race
around calling out the devil so they can go at it mono e mono; he waits and prepares by fasting and praying. Jesus
does not procrastinate; he confronts the tempter. Jesus does not overanalyze
the situation by thinking it to death; he uses the right amount of reason and
faith to refute the devil. Intentional preparation and courageous confrontation
are powerful tools. In the Christian faith, these are the Lenten disciplines
that we can utilize when life’s test are before us.
But taking these tests often leave us
exhausted. Though, like many of you, I can swim, I am not an active swimmer.
When I do decide to get in the pool for some exercise, I find I run out of
breath before I run out of pool.
Jesus’ test also takes
its toll on him. Angels finally arrive to nurture him. As soon as the test and
Jesus’ recuperation are complete, though, he leaves for Galilee to proclaim a
message of repentance and to call others to join him on this mission. At this
point, Jesus has been transformed from the one being tested to the one who will
now test others.
I was hoping that Ms.
Yeh had said something that would put an exclamation point on her experience. I
was hoping for a quote like “I know this will change my life.” But in response
to the question, “Was it worth it?” she said, “Not really.” She has no plans to
ever swim again.
But we cannot escape
life and we Christians relate all too easily to the three temptations of Jesus.
In the temptation to
be relevant, turning stones to bread, how often have we discovered ourselves
irrelevant in the face of unpretentious folk who force us to let go of our
relevant self. Can we not then be “open to receive and give love regardless of
any accomplishment.” Can it be that Henri Nouwen, the late Dutch Roman Catholic
spiritual writer is right in his conviction “that the Christian leader of the
future is called to be completely irrelevant and to stand in this world with
nothing to offer but his or her own vulnerable self.” What matters is that “God
has created and redeemed us in love and has chosen us to proclaim that love is
the true source of all human life.”
In the temptation to
be spectacular, throwing oneself down from the tower, the authentic task is
heard from the lips of Jesus to Peter, “Feed my sheep.” Nouwen affirms that we
church people are “sinful, broken, vulnerable people who need as much care as
anyone we care for.”
In the temptation to
be powerful, to be given the kingdoms of this world, we find one of the
greatest ironies of the history of Christianity is that its people constantly
gave in to the temptation for power. Nouwen found it is easier to control
people than to love them. But our task is to empty ourselves and follow Jesus.
The way of power is chosen when intimacy is a threat.
Forty days and forty
nights of fasting left Jesus utterly depleted. He is beyond hunger, he is
famished. All he has left is scripture, the Word of God. All he has is what he
knows by heart – that, and a promise given him in his baptism that he is
somebody; he is God’s beloved, no matter what. All Jesus has is who he is.
When we are famished ,
this is the thing we forget most quickly: we forget who we are. And the tempter
knows how vulnerable that makes us, because the tempter’s timing is perfect.
Perhaps the biggest
temptation is to forget the Jordan, and our baptism, when we are in the
wilderness. The biggest temptation is to let go of what we know by heart when
we are famished. And with the tempter’s help, that unconditional promise “You
are my beloved” gets replaced with temptation. We hear the worlds’ voice, “If
you are the one God loves, prove it. Earn it. Show you deserve it.”
This is the sin that
haunts us: to let the tempter convince us that God’s love is conditional and
not absolute and without condition. To let the tempter convince us being God’s beloved
is something we must prove, not something we are.
It all comes back to
this morning’s story: the great temptation, when we are famished and empty, and
so afraid, that we must prove to others and to ourselves what we already know.
It is God’s promise to us, “You are my child, my beloved. I am so pleased with
you.”
It is not an accident
Matthew places this story of temptation immediately after Jesus’ story of
baptism.
What a different world
it might be, if we saw the wilderness that lies between being filled and being
famished.
What a different Lent
it might be, if we made no other promises to one another than to remember our
baptisms, and be thankful.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy
Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen
030914.gpc
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