Lent 1C Luke 4.1-13
Sunday, March 6, 2022
Space matters. Architects and designers know it. City dwellers and rural residents experience vastly different spaces. Space matters. The difference between space in Montana and space in Wisconsin can be as different as the expanse between the two states. Florence Kem was a Montana lifer and a matriarch of the tiny parish I served in Columbus, MT. She loved the open expanse of the golden plains flowing to the foothills, only to be dominated by the crowning peaks that kept reverie over the rivers and valleys. Big Sky said it all. It is why those who lived there referred to it as the Last Best Place. You could, literally, see 60 miles in this open landscape. Florence, however, had cousins who lived in Wisconsin. That space was more limited, controlled. Pine forests often hewed close to the roadways of the Badger state, creating a tunnel experience as you criss-crossed this mid-western state. There was no Big Sky. This was the Big Cocoon.
While space matters, the familiarity with space, ultimately, shapes us. Florence loved to visit her cousins, but she couldn’t wait to get back to Montana. Likewise, Florence’s cousins loved to visit her, but they, also, loved to be back home. In Wisconsin. For Florence, Wisconsin was cause for claustrophobia, the sky muted by the crush of forest. The horizon limited by conifers and deciduous trees alike. For her cousins, Montana was too wide open, too exposed. They sought a return to the enveloping and insulating landscape of home. Ironically, both locations were wilderness to the visitor. Big Sky scared those from the Big Cocoon. And the Big Cocoon left Florence from Big Sky a bit unsettled..
Which is what wilderness really does. It is that which takes us out of our comfort zone. That which is unfamiliar. The space that challenges us. Tests our resolve and courage. Therefore, wilderness need not be defined by any one location or landscape. Wilderness can exist in the urban jungle as well as the manicured suburbs, the wilds of uncharted territory, or the Big Sky or Big Cocoon depending on your perspective and experience. Thus, while Jesus’ wilderness wandering keeps to the barrenness of ancient Israel, his experience of testing and tempting is universal. We all journey through any number of wilderness in this life and the tests are continuous.
Specifically, the temptations put to Jesus in today’s gospel by the devil--that is Diabolos, literally the adversary--are those that strike to the very heart of our humanity. Food. Power. Security. The fundamentals of sustenance--and with it the continuum of scarcity and abundance--control--and with it the ebb and flow between weakness and strength--and protection--and the fluctuation from vulnerability to assured protection--are issues that we confront throughout life. They are all there. “Provide for yourself,” the diabolos says. And who among us doesn’t want to do exactly that? We don’t want to be a burden. We don’t want to rely on others. We want to be able to make our way and to make our way our way. Yet, Jesus’ reply is resolute. You shall not live by bread alone. While food is key it is not king.
“I’ll give you control of the world. Simply bow down to me,” the Diabolos continues. And Jesus replies with fidelity to God, “Worship the Lord your God and serve only him.” This engagement mirrors the temptation of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. There the humans are promised power and the promise to be like God if they eat of the fruit of the tree. The initial desire for power and control of Adam and Eve has been replayed in the hearts of all humanity down through the centuries and in the very core of our being. Sadly, such grasping usually limits us, or compromises us, or tragically diminishes us. Meanwhile, Jesus eschews such desire longing for control. He remains grounded, he lets go of the rush for power, and, in a twist that is timeless, he actually becomes the most human human. He doesn’t rebel against his mortality, nor ours. Indeed, he claims it and acknowledges the right relationship that God intends for each of us. There is no storming the divine castle to claim equality with God. Rather, “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him,” is the humble reply that thwarts Diabolos for a second time.
In the final test, Diabolos marshals the fullest press of guile and persuasion. He not only tempts but does so using the very Word of God to entice Jesus. “Throw yourself off the temple,” he says. “[God]will command his angels concerning you, to protect you,” and “On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.” Amidst a world with such uncertainty--health concerns, wars and rumors of wars, economic unpredictability and more--who would not long for divine protection? Indeed, do we not betray such a viewpoint when we are confronted with difficulties and dilemmas? “Why did God let this happen?” may be a familiar refrain. Veiled in the statement is the concern that God did not save me. And we all want to be saved. Meanwhile, Jesus ends the final test with a resoluteness to remain human and allow God to be God, “Do not put the Lord God to the test.”
Ultimately, Jesus’ temptations are a model for us to engage the temptations that we experience in the spaces of life, those known and comfortable oases and the very locale of wilderness that will challenge us, perhaps threaten us, certainly move us, and tempt us to pull the reins of destiny to control the variabilities and vicissitudes of life. Food, Power, Security. They confront us every day. Do we see the world as abundant and God as provider or is scarcity the driver or our worldview? Do we acknowledge our humanity and allow God to be God or do we grasp for control? Do we recognize the complexity and dangers of the world but yield rather than put God to the test. It isn’t easy. Vulnerability is ultimately what we are invited into. Not necessarily what we signed on for. Yet, Jesus’ model for us is that as we step out during this Lenten season and allow ourselves to be exposed, susceptible, even weak, but ultimately human, we do not journey alone. The one who occupies the space with us is the one who completes the test, who knows the way, and loves us throughout the journey.