The first Sunday in Lent is my favorite Sunday in the church year. The reason is because of the Gospel reading. Every year, no matter year A, B, or C, the Gospel reading is the wilderness temptation of Jesus. Though Mark’s account does not include the three temptations we find in Matthew and Luke, there is still plenty to work with within the text. Nonetheless, I love these texts and, in particular, Luke’s because we are given an incredible window into who Jesus is and, by extension, who God is and the subversive spirit that animates him. It’s easy to believe that God seemingly validates our ways or values in very predictable and laudable ways, but Jesus’ response to the devil’s temptations reveals otherwise.
It is often noted that Jesus goes into the wilderness on a vision quest to retrace the footsteps of his people, Israel, to better understand how and why they went wrong. After resisting the temptations, he comes out on the other side with a deep vocational understanding of his messiahship. He will be the faithful Israelite, a light and blessing to the nations in word and action. His resistance and response to the devil prove as much. It’s this resistance that both convicts and captures my imagination.
The first temptation that the devil brings to Jesus is to turn the stone into bread. Beginning with, “If you are the Son of God…” it has the immediate air of childlike taunting. This temptation was laden with all kinds of meaning. Not only is the devil capitalizing on Jesus’ weakness of forty days of hunger, but he is also nudging him toward immediate gratification, praise, and fanfare. Just after leaving Egypt and entering the wilderness, the Israelites yearned for bread and for the supposed comforts of their life in the Egyptian Empire, where they were slaves. Was it toxic nostalgia, or was the wilderness that bad, or both? The point is that challenges or hardships can make us yearn for the good ‘ole days that weren’t that good and can also cause us to overlook the truth of God. During the time of Jesus, the Caesars were known for placating the empire’s masses with bread and circuses; such bread went a long way in preventing a population that led a tough life from losing their minds and rebelling. Jesus miraculously providing bread for free would immediately remove many problems. Such is why, in John’s Gospel, some sought to take him by force and make him king after feeding five thousand people. For Jesus, such would have been an incredibly tempting solution to a terrible situation, but what good is a full belly with a faithless life? It spoils like manna after a day, breeding worms and becoming foul (Exodus 16:20). Indeed, “humans do not live by bread alone.”
The second temptation is that of worldly power. Just bend the knee, Jesus is told, and all of this will be yours. Another seemingly easy solution is presented to Jesus. Given the keys to kingdoms of the world, he would be the final authority of human beings’ most notorious invention – empire. These were known for bringing wealth and power to a few while exploiting the masses; they were the original pyramid scheme. I wonder if Jesus recalled his people’s experience with monarchy and empire here. Of course, it didn’t go well. Wanting to be like the other nations, they asked for a king, rejecting the kingship of Yahweh. Saul would fail them by conscripting their sons and daughters, taking the best of their crops, vineyards, livestock, and many other things. Even the supposedly great kings would prove deeply corrupt. The shepherd David would become a covetous, murderous, and adulterous king. Solomon would employ slave labor in his building projects, becoming more like Pharaoh, a deep betrayal of his people’s history. Doubtless, the legacy of Israel’s kings is filled with far more negative examples than positive ones. The temptation is simple enough but leads to far more destruction than expected or intended. If only all our problems could be solved by that charismatic leader, or inspiring politician, or dynamic preacher. How often have we been let down by leaders we thought would bring the desired change? Indeed, Jesus was onto something when he responded, “Worship the Lord your God and serve only him.” He could have said, “It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to put confidence in mortals. It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to put confidence in princes” (Ps.118:8-9).
Last but not least is the temptation at the pinnacle of the Temple. It, too, begins with, “If you are the Son of God…” Another taunt, it would seem. Throw yourself down and let the angels catch you! In other words, prove yourself, prove your God! Such is echoed in the Pharisees, who demanded a sign from Jesus as a test, but also in the request of the rich man to have Abraham send Lazarus to his brothers so that they might not end up in hell. Jesus could throw himself down and have the angels catch him, resulting in thousands of followers instantly. But signs and miracles can only get you so far; it’s not that they are bad, but they can all too easily become a substitute for the real and arduous journey required of discipleship. Faithfulness does not protect one from hardship, tragedy, or even injustice, though we are tempted to believe otherwise. Putting God to the test is the prerogative of prosperity preachers everywhere, enriching their pockets, while denying and undermining the call of discipleship to many. Jesus responds with, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.” A good reminder that God is not simply our wishing well but calls us to a life of self-denial and taking up our cross.
What I find so compelling about these temptations is that Jesus rejects so much of what we hold dear, value, and put a premium on. He turns away from food and security, he turns away from power and control, he turns away from using his divine power for his own ends. That is truly counter-cultural, both then and now.
Image by William Hole “Temptation of Jesus in Desert.”
A Foolish Way 