Today, we begin our journey through Lent, where we will focus on some of the most central aspects of Jesus’ life and ministry—the essentials of who Jesus is and what he’s up to. Today, we find Jesus directly after his baptism, where the skies had opened, the Spirit descended, and the voice of God came down, saying: “this is my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased.”
Having been named the Son of God, Jesus then follows the Spirit into the wilderness.
Scripture: Matthew 4:1-11
Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tested by the devil. He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterward he was famished. The tempter came and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” But he answered, “It is written,‘One does not live by bread alone,
but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’ ”Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down, for it is written,
‘He will command his angels concerning you,’
and ‘On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’ ”Jesus said to him, “Again it is written, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’ ”
Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory, and he said to him, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” Then Jesus said to him, “Away with you, Satan! for it is written,
‘Worship the Lord your God,
and serve only him.’ ”Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him.
Throughout the scriptures, the wilderness represents a place of preparation, a place of waiting for God’s next move, a place of learning to trust in God’s mercy. For forty days and nights Jesus remains in the wilderness, without food, getting ready for what comes next. The number forty is also symbolic – throughout scripture, it is the number associated with preparation and purification.
- Noah and his family spent 40 days on the ark during the flood in Genesis, after which God made a covenant never again to destroy the earth.
- Moses fasted for 40 days on Mount Sinai as he inscribed the words of God’s covenant for the Israelites
- Elijah fasted in the desert for 40 days before hearing God’s voice and receiving a new commission from God
- The Israelites wandered the wilderness for 40 years in preparation for their arrival in the Promised Land
So, when Jesus goes into the wilderness, it’s no coincidence that he, too, fasts for 40 days. He leaves behind the clatter of commerce and work, and he purposely enters into a desolate and solitary space. We don’t hear much about what happens in that 40 days—how Jesus spent his time, the prayers he prayed, what he might’ve meditated on, the conversations he likely had with God.
What we do hear about is the conversation he had afterwards.
Satan, the Opposer, the Tempter—has come to say “so you’re the Son of God, eh? Prove it.”
Jesus is obviously pretty hungry, having fasted for over a month, so I’m sure some bread sounds really great, but he’s not interested in playing that game. And in fact, he’s the one who starts this back-and-forth with scripture, quoting Deuteronomy. “We don’t live by bread alone,” he says, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”
And the Tempter takes the bait.
The Pinnacle of the Temple. The highest mountain.
“If you’re really the Son of God, jump. The scriptures say you won’t get hurt. God will protect you.”
Then, one final test. “I’ll give you all of these kingdoms if you’ll worship me.” – Probably also true, although I’m not sure that power and those people are his to give.
Satan, in all reality, doesn’t lie to Jesus. He simply takes truth and uses it—frames it, twists it, takes it out of context—for his own purposes.
Henri Nouwen talks about this passage in his book In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership. He says that the three greatest temptations for Christian leaders are the same ones that Jesus faced in the wilderness: to be relevant, to be spectacular, and to be powerful.
Jesus, as we see later, really does have the power to make and multiply bread—so turning stones into bread when he hadn’t eaten for 40 days probably wouldn’t have been that hard. It would have satisfied his immediate need, and no one would begrudge him that.
But that is not the purpose for his power.
At the end of the gospel of Luke, when he’s been resurrected and he’s met and taught the disciples, Jesus is indeed borne up into the air by angels.
But to throw himself from the peak of the temple mount for the sake of saying “look at me! I’m the Son of God and I’m important!” That flies in the face of everything that Jesus would do with his ministry. That is not the purpose of his power.
The book of Revelation opens with a scene in the throne room of God—where people from every tribe and nation and language to ever exist are singing together “Holy, holy, holy, Is the Lord God the Almighty, who was and is and is to come.”
Jesus will indeed rule over every nation under heaven, in all their splendor and glory—but all of this will happen on God’s terms, in God’s time, and with much suffering involved.
The temptation Jesus faced was to let the ends justify the means—to take the easy way, through making himself needed and exciting and powerful in order to accomplish the work set before him. But that is not the purpose of his power.
The temptation is to manipulate, to force, to hurry the people into accepting what Jesus already knows to be true: that God has sent him to teach and heal and save.
But if Jesus doesn’t set out to be needed or spectacular or powerful, then what sort of Son of God is he? What does Jesus set out to be?
Jesus, first of all, is Present. He shows up fully and absolutely, wherever he is. He takes the time to be present with God—thus the 40 days of fasting in the desert—to his disciples, to the crowds who follow him in spite of his desire to be quiet, and to himself. Perhaps because of this conversation with the Tempter, Jesus knows exactly who he is and what sort of life he’s going to live.
In that same vein, Jesus is discerning. Jesus spends a whole lot of time telling his disciples and the people he’s healed and those he’s taught not to tell anyone who he is or what he’s doing, so that he can keep on doing what he’s called to do. He knows full well that if the religious authorities and the more overzealous anti-Rome folks were to get wind of a Messiah, he could have an armed rebellion on his hands—and that’s the last thing he wants at this point. A war with the Roman Empire is not the purpose of his power.
Jesus is also humble in heart. While he’s with us on earth, he needs no glory. He has no palace. He wants no throne, no military power, and very little attention. He does not overstep his mission, to bring freedom to the captives and sight to the blind and healing to the sick.
Jesus does not reject his power, even in the face of this temptation—but he does reject the Tempter’s terms. Jesus will make bread, but he’ll make it for the thousands of people who have nothing to eat. Jesus will be lifted up by angels, but only after he’s given his life for the sake of the whole world. Jesus will indeed rule over every king and kingdom, but not because he’s granted that power from someone else. The means are just as important to Jesus as the ends.
Much later, the apostle Paul would encourage the Christians in Philippi to imitate the one whose name they now bore: Christ. He wrote in Philippians 2:
Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross.
The Son of God, as he walked the earth, did not exploit his God-ness—but for our sake, chose the road that led to Jerusalem, to the last supper and the betrayal and the cross.
And so, this is the way we follow. God’s people have never had the luxury of starting at zero and going up—we must always make the downward movement of the cross first. The wilderness, then the promised land. The exile, then the return. Death, and then resurrection.
That’s why the journey of Lent begins each year with Ash Wednesday, remembering that the dust is where we came from and at some point, the dust is where we shall return. The 40 days of Lent are an opportunity for Christians to participate in Jesus’ ministry and follow his way toward the cross—one step down at a time.
It sure is tempting, though, to take any of those offers: to turn that cupholder change into a candy bar, to make a spectacle of our piety or our devotion in the hopes that we might impress someone into following Jesus, to say “if only I ran the world—I could fix this whole mess.”
Y’all, you don’t have to be Jesus—none of us are actually Jesus.
But like Jesus, you too have been claimed and called so that you may follow him into his ministry of healing and hope. Your temptations will come in different wrappers, perhaps some unique flavors, but the ingredients will be mostly the same: power, greed, attention, performance, side quests to prove yourself to people who just want to distract you.
In this way, the fasting and self-denial of Lent is not a punishment. It’s a workout – strengthening our self-control and our ability to resist the temptations that threaten to pull us away from God’s call.
So as we begin this season, this long road toward the cross, we have the opportunity to be marked with ash. For centuries, ashes were a symbol of humility and repentance, a reminder of our beginning and our end. If that physical reminder is helpful to you, I invite you to come forward during the next hymn, and I will use the ashes to mark a cross on your forehead or your hand – your choice.
With humble gratitude, let us rise as we’re able to sing hymn #649 – Amazing Grace.