Lent 1A – Genesis 2:15-17, 3:1-7; Psalm 32; Romans 5:12-19; Matthew 4:1-11
Let me try to deal straightforwardly this morning with the theme of today’s traditional Gospel: temptation. Every temptation in Scripture comes down to trust in God. And every issue of trust is bound up with a struggle over our fears. That’s the gist of what I want us to think about in this yearly context: for each year, at Lent, we begin the season with the story of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness at the hands of Satan. And the theme persists throughout Lent, just as it is soundly repeated throughout the Christian Gospel. James ushers up the story, applying Jesus’ example to us, for instance, when he writes: “resist the devil, and he will flee from you” (James 4:7).
What is a temptation? In brief, it is Satan, the servant angel of God as the book of Job tells us, showing us who we are, or who we might become, “testing” us as we put it. In Emerson’s words, “every evil to which we do not succumb is a benefactor”, in the sense that we are somehow clarified, purified made stronger in the truth, if we resist temptation. That, anyway, is the traditional theory.
But what are the “evils” we are asked to “resist”? And that, if we do, we are the better for it? In some way, they are obvious enough I suppose: all the vices and habits and allurements that destroy the goodness in us, that drag us down, that weaken our spirits.
Jesus was tempted many times throughout his life, not only in the wilderness as recounted in today’s Gospel. At the end of his life, he faced one of his greatest temptations – to run away from the arrest and death he knew was awaiting him if he did not flee. In the Garden of Gethsemane, as we well know, he fell to his knees and prayed, “Abba, Father; all things are possible to thee; remove this cup from me” (Mk. 14:36).
What was going on here? Jesus knew what he was supposed to do: “for this reason I was born, and for this reason I came into the world, to testify to the truth!” (Jn. 18:37), he says to Pilate. But he is frightened. “Please, Father, do not make me do this”, do not make me suffer for what you want.
And there you have in a nutshell our Lord’s temptation: fear. Fear is one of the most common words found in the Bible: as Ecclesiastes says (12:5), it is into fear that all of us inevitably sink in our lives, that towards which we are all tending. “Terror on every side”, as the Psalmist and Jeremiah say (Ps. 31:13; Jer. 20:10). It is no accident that the first use of the word “fear” in the Bible that I know of is in our text from Genesis 3, rooted at the core of human life: “I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid.” For Jesus, as for Adam, the fear at issue is a particular one: fear in the face of doing God’s will; allowing the vast web of human fears to overwhelm God’s own being and truth. Fear at suffering for what is right. It is the same underlying temptation in the wilderness, about which we hear today. He knows he is called to live by “God’s word”, he knows that only God is to be served, he knows that God is not to be measured by how He takes care of us. He knows all these things. Yet Satan tempts him by exposing him to his fears: his fear of hunger, his fear of powerlessness, his fear of vulnerability—do these things, and you will not suffer hunger or weakness or injury—do them! And if you do not? Suffer you will!
Often we assume that the hard thing in life is to figure out what is right. “What am I supposed to do?”, we ask ourselves. Maybe sometimes it is hard to figure out. But it is also the case that more often our fears overwhelm our discernment: we know what is right, but we fear doing it. There it is: temptation. And discernment is itself a form of resisting temptation.
I like being liked, for example. They say it’s both a common characteristic of ministers, as well as their frequent downfall, because our desire to be liked keeps us from making difficult decisions for the good of the whole community, and instead leads us to try to keep all individuals happy. Could be. In any case, many of things I do not do are in fact—and I admit it—based on my fear of being disliked or thought less of or rejected. Sometimes, for example, I don’t tell my friends or colleagues or students the truth, because they will perhaps, maybe probably, pull away from me, turn against me. “You really need to tone down your negativity; you really are being mean, and you need to stop it; you are getting in over your head with your money – do you need help?” “You’re acting irresponsibly!” But I know they don’t want to hear this and will react. Don’t tell me it doesn’t happen! I have seen it too often! So I say nothing, telling myself that I need to wait “for the right moment”. But I realize the cowardice involved. Temptation.
Sometimes I have not spoken up for something true because of my fear of how others will look at me. I am a conservative, for instance, in the current struggles of the church. Yet I am not happy, in the present debate within Anglicanism, at how many conservatives and their leaders have acted, and how they talk, and degrade and insult others. What should I say? I realize that I have too often kept silence for fear of losing their approval and my standing with them. Temptation.
Conversely, I sometimes keep my real beliefs quiet, in general company, for fear of appearing reactionary or for fear of being associated with other people who are despised by those around me. Temptation.
This is but one example, having to do with me. There are very different and even contrary examples for others: the people who cannot help offending people for fear of being thought unexceptional, constantly insulting and breaking relationships because they are afraid that being “just like everyone else”. Then there are those people whose sense of having always to “stand up” for things is born out of a fear of trusting others, of being thought weak, or what have you.
One thing I would say, quite simply, is this: if you can see what you most fear, then perhaps you can also discern most clearly what it is right for you to do. And this is where temptations are so useful.
If you look to yourself, what might you see? I fear being alone – perhaps God is calling you to pray; I fear not having enough money – perhaps God is calling you to be generous or to do work that is for others and not for yourself; I fear being laughed at – perhaps God is asking you to take some responsibility for others; I fear not having time for myself; I fear not being right; I fear being perceived as weak; I fear for my health, my schedule, my comfort zone, my soul. Look at these fears, get a sense of your temptations, and begin to take stock of what God is calling you to do. I have only just begun learning to do this for myself. But it is a remarkably freeing reality.
Father, if it be your will, let me run from this. “But not what I will, but what thou wilt” (Mk. 14:36).
What you will, O God. It is freeing to face one’s fear about doing what is right, and thereby illuminating what is right, because it helps answer the question, “then how can we resist temptation?” We can resist them precisely by realizing that what is “right” belongs to God – it is what God wills and therefore cannot be subverted or used to our ill. We can trust it. Why does Jesus say, “not what I will, but what you will”? He says this because he knows that God’s will is sovereign, glorious, fruitful, and loving. “The one who calls you—God—is faithful, and he will do it” (1 Thess. 5:24), Paul writes. You do not need to fear to do as He asks! You need not fear at all! If “perfect love casts out fear” (Jn. 4:18), it is not my love then that I trust in; it is God’s, God’s love for me; God “for me”.
One of my other major temptations – major fears before what is right and good, if you will – stands in contrast to the one I mentioned earlier; it is my fear of failure, of not being effective. I can do what is right, as I discern it, but I cannot let go, I have to see it all come to fruition, to “work”, to be a “success”. The temptation here, my friends, is the temptation to despair, because obviously most of what we commit ourselves to is not in our hands to make happen in the long run. My family, my work, church and parish, the Anglican Communion … I must have all this work out, I must, I must. Otherwise… So I look at this fear straightforwardly, and I say, “I must do what I can do, but then I must let go” – I say that, knowing that is the right thing, but feeling that gnawing sense of demand welling up inside of me, “keep pressing, keep pressing, or it is hopeless”. That is the temptation.
Yet it is just here where I can only say, “O Lord, are you not the creator and saviour of the world?” – it is your church, your people, your children, not mine, with which I have to do. I cannot create or save them. Only you. Only your perfect love and power and truth.
Many Christian writers have spoken of the way temptations “humble” us by showing us that the things we fear are God’s to resolve, because we come face to face with the fact that only God has the power to do so. That’s a wonderful thing to realize. And in this fact—only God!—we can trust, in this we can find our peace. “There is future for the peaceable”, says the Psalmist (37:39); or again, “blessed are the meek”, says Jesus (Mt. 5:5). That is, God will deliver those who do right and simply—peaceably, meekly, openly—trust in Him. There is a future and blessing for them.
Face your fear; do what is right; and let God carry you to the only place worth going anyway – into His own loving purpose. That is what it means to resist temptation. And to that degree, it is but a giving over of ourselves to the power of God.
I have an old book I found in a used book store – prayers by various 19th century ladies. One of them, a Mrs. L. Gell, wrote the following wonderful prayer that goes like this – and I invite you to join me in it: “Blessed for ever be Thy Name, O Lord, for that it is thy Will that this Temptation should come upon me! I cannot escape it, but must need flee to THEE, that THOU mayest succour me, and turn the temptation itself to my good! And now, O Beloved FATHER, what shall I say? I am caught amidst straits! Save THOU me from this hour! Yet, therefore came I unto this hour, that THOU mayest be glorified, when I shall have been utterly humbled, and by THEE delivered” (Mrs. L. Gell).
