Luke 4:1-13

Year C, Lent 1 | March 6, 2022 | Lk 4,1-13 | Evan McClanahan |

The Temptation of Jesus is perhaps one of the strangest stories in the New Testament. If it were not the assigned text for us to begin Lent every year, I’m not sure how often it would get visited. If we look to Christ as our sole help and guide, it is profoundly hopeful, for he never wavers, and against our greatest adversary, he leaves the wilderness victorious.

But there are decidedly unusual elements about the story and somewhat terrifying application, too. For example, Jesus is in the wilderness, led there by the Spirit, apparently for this appointment. The God of heaven must have known that his greatest adversary, the fallen angel who defied him, would sense what God was doing in Christ and would hope to destroy him. Indeed, one imagines that the devil, though he does not possess all knowledge, was aware of the prophecies of Jesus, the birth of Jesus, and watched him grow as a boy.

Now that Jesus has been publicly baptized by John the Baptist and proclaimed to be the “Lamb of God,” this meeting is inevitable. It has the feel of a heavyweight boxing match, two champions who have been observing one another for a while, knowing that their ultimate test would be one against the other. And then the day comes.

But we can only imagine what this encounter with such a demonic being would have been like. Did the devil just show up these three times or was he a constant companion of Jesus? Does the devil really own the kingdoms of the land? That is, are they even his in the first place? And how in the world did Jesus really survive for 40 days with no food? I know of no Lenten fast that severe!

Some will say that this is an archetypal story of good vs. evil, and that every good story needs to set the stage for an ultimate victory. Some will say that these three temptations merely represent the basic needs of life: food, shelter and government, and safety. Some will say there is no good reason to even believe that this really happened; the idea of it alone suffices to teach us that sacrifice is important and that temptation can be defeated.

I think it did happen, though I suspect the devil’s engagement with Jesus was far more complex than we can ever understand. It seems likely that more than six sentences would have been spoken between the two. With every word, the devil was looking for an angle of attack, a way to breach Jesus’ defenses. The devil is cunning and perceptive, after all. It isn’t his scheming that is his downfall, though. It is his lack of trust in God, and therefore his inability to understand where Christ drew his strength and power.

In spite of the strangeness of the story, it is extremely relevant. Let’s be honest: we are in the habit of denying ourselves very little. And in living in such a way, we become weak. We forget what it takes to succeed. And I don’t mean succeed in the business world per se, though there is overlap, but more to successfully hold off temptations in our own life.

The Christian call of self-denial is actually a call of self-empowerment. So long as we are dependent on food or shelter or government to provide joy or meaning for us, we will always be their slaves. The discipline of self-denial is a reminder that in Christ, we have all that we need. It is a testament to the virtues of fortitude and perseverance. Over and over, Paul calls on the Christians to persevere. In Philippians 3, he writes, “I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you. Only let us hold true to what we have attained.”

In forgetting these virtues, we individually and our culture at large has lost discipline. On morality, we draw few lines to speak of. Anything goes. If it makes you happy. If it feels good to you, etc. those are our only guiding lights. Financially, we have become a debtor nation, again not only as persons but asa nation. We do not have a neglect of food, but an overindulgence…even those of us who can hide it. Virtually everywhere you turn, we have refused to live disciplined lives. And there will be a price to pay. There always is.

Many economists are predicting that our financial irresponsibility will soon bear fearful fruit. Our nation is now faced with the choice of endless inflation or a recession. The laws of economics are fixed, so something has to give. And this must be said by those who dare comment on our moral failings because it is immoral for our nation to refuse to live within its means. It has led to the worst tax on the poor, inflation, and it is destabilizing the world.

That’s the thing about discipline: you can either embrace it and bear the fruit that the virtues of modesty and thrift and patience and charity bring, or we can ignore it and be disciplined by the heavy hand of the law. Every Christian politician in this nation should have been preaching the immorality of deficit spending, delaying the pain of such debt indefinitely. But we have taken the route of easy money and the costs will be steep in the months and years to come.

I hope you can forgive that indulgence of mine, but we preachers so often just focus on the moral failings of ourselves and our society that we let things like, you know, economic policy slide. But when civilization itself totters and falls because an economy is destroyed, that should not be ignored by anyone.

So perhaps this Lent is as good a time as any to really evaluate our appetites. Do we really believe and live as though we have enough? What would it look like to tighten our belt, to change our habits? Can we model good stewardship for the world and can we call on our leaders to be courageous in setting basic limits? Is it time to seriously set aside extra money for a rainy day, to lessen or eliminate debt, or to change the habits that drain us?

Especially in this incredible age of abundance, we find it hard to deny ourselves. Why should we? Our entire economy is now presupposed on present benefit and future pain. But how we spend our money reveals how we trust our God.

Let us be honest. It is hard to say “No,” to be disciplined, to deny ourselves. We often fail in this pursuit of radical faith in God. But when we fail, we remember Jesus’ strength, resolve, and faith in God’s goodness. We remember his going to toe-to-toe, mano a mano, with the devil himself, and winning. He won for you. Let us take up the cause and show the world that we have enough in God. Amen.

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First Lutheran, Houston

Pastor Evan McClanahan