Lent 1 2014

Lent 1 2014

As you know, this year for Lent I am using this theme of the desert—which, as we see from our Gospel reading is a common thematic description for the Lenten experience.

Now, apart from being just a common landscape in the near Mid-East, the desert brings with it a long mystical tradition. Often, we find within biblical tradition some of the more powerful divine actions happening in what is simply referred to as the wilderness/desert.

We might recall that it was in the desert places where Abram and Sarai offered hospitality to the Three Angelic Strangers. This is the same sort of place where Jacob both had his vision of the angelic ladder, but also where he wrestled with the angel, Peniel. The wilderness is where Israel was called to be the people of God, and were led by a pillar of fire and smoke for 40 years in the Exodus. It’s also in the desert where Elijah was carried away in a chariot of fire, and Elisha received the mantle of prophetic office…and in today’s Gospel reading, we find Jesus wandering the desert and being tempted just after his baptism.

The reason that the wilderness is often referred to in this non-specific way is not because our authors enjoy being cagey, necessarily—instead what is evoked in this non-geographic descriptor is a place outside of our geographic understanding. Effectively, we’re asked to consider a space somewhere just outside of our understanding. Perhaps something a bit like the Twilight Zone, if you like—at the very least, such an image is “submitted for your approval…”  

 Anyway, the ‘Desert Tradition’ then, the ascetic and monastic tradition espoused by the Desert Mothers and Fathers comes to us out of this understanding. It’s this idea that in the desert places we are stripped of the familiar things that act as both distraction and anchor to our senses. In effect, the desert is a place where reality, in an apocalyptic way, is rolled back like so much parchment—so that who we truly are is left exposed to the physical and spiritual elements alike.

Where we find Jesus in our reading today is in this sort of place. He had been baptized by John in the River Jordan, and we’re told that he is led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted. It says that after 40 days of fasting, he was hungry, and then the tempter came.

What we should probably understand about the tempter here—or the devil, or Satan—is that his role here (and often in Scripture) is more that of a prosecuting attorney. (Let the lawyer jokes begin now…) But seriously, there is this sense that “the Satan,” the same character we see in the Book of Job, is this elemental force who is called upon to challenge both the people of God, and even God’s Son, to see if they measure up.

So, in effect, Jesus becomes a kind of personification of Israel in this narrative, and the tempter has come to see if he can measure up to the Covenantal Law of God.   

 The first of these temptations, the Gospel writer tells us, is that Jesus is told to change stones to bread—a kind of parallel to the manna which was given to Israel in the wilderness. Of course, in the case of Israel, they complain that the manna isn’t sufficient for their tastes and are punished for it. However, Jesus, says simply that we survive by God’s creative word alone.

Next, Jesus is taken to a high place on the Temple, and is told to throw himself off, so that angels will come and save him. Not only would this be a bad idea, but Jesus makes it clear that one must not tempt God.

Finally, Satan offers Jesus all the kingdoms of the world in exchange for worshiping him. Here, and in the previous temptation, we are put in mind of Israel not only tempting God while they were in the wilderness, and Moses was still on the mountain receiving the Law—but we’re also reminded of their idolatry. And, just like with the first temptation, we see Jesus soundly resist these final two.

The point is, in the end, that not only is Jesus tempted as humans are tempted—but Jesus is particularly tempted as all of Israel was tempted. And, unlike Israel, Jesus was found obedient—thus making him not only a sinless offering for the sins of the world, but also the replacement for Israel who had originally been called to be a light which would lead all nations back to God.

 Where the Desert Tradition picks up from this reading is in the fact that the temptations that Jesus faced were not only spiritual, but cultural as well. As I said, these temptations were reflective of the challenges made to Israel at different points throughout history—challenges wherein they sadly fell short.

In the same sort of way, the desert ascetics left their cultures behind—cultures which had become so oversaturated by the religion of Christianity that it had lost the heart and soul of the faith. So, whether these ascetics were leaving the cities of Egypt or Antioch to walk into the actual desert, or even settling in sparse, retired communities away from Rome; their intent was to enter a space where, like Jesus, and all of the others who had entered the “desert,” they could confront themselves and their culture without crutches and distractions.

They sought to be compelled by the Spirit to set out into the wilderness to not only be tempted to return to the places and ways they were—but also to be challenged to see if they could measure up. Could they, in fact, live up to the Gospel?

Lent is not a gimmick. It is a call; it is a discipline of faith. So, those who enter into the Lenten season intentionally, should know that it is only for the serious—after all, without such commitment, how can we ever hope to be changed in this season? In our Lenten journey, then, the question is ‘are we willing to commit ourselves to be drawn by the Spirit into that place where everything else is put aside so that we can see what we’re really made of?’

After all, this is the place where we see ourselves most clearly and where God meets us most evidently. And it is our hope that when we emerge changed, we can more fully embrace the power and mystery of Easter, and live our lives as a resurrection people.