Let Me Have A Moment to Think About That

Matthew 4:1-11; Genesis 2:15-17

 

Every Sunday we pray the words, “Lead us not into temptation yet by Monday afternoon we are knee deep in our schemes and dreams. What is it about sin that we find so appealing? Every preacher from Paul to Nadia Bolz-Weber has something to say about how hard it is to claim our identity as a child of God. Paul claimed , “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” Bolz-Weber makes it a bit more personal. Each morning she prays, “O God, let me remain sober one more day.”

Our text this morning begins with a question, followed by a temptation.  “If you are the Son of God, then you ought to be able turn these stones into bread.”  You can see where this is going. If you are a child of God then you ought to be able to do anything you “damn” well please. Amazing how that kind logic always leads to our damnation.

A long time ago a child went to her teacher and asked, “Rabbi, when did sin begin?” The Rabbi thought for a moment and then answered, “Let me tell you a story. Long before your mother and father were born, long before we made our home here in Babylon, long before David or Moses or Father Abraham walked this earth, there was a man and woman who found great favor with God. They lived happily together in a wonderful garden that supplied their every need. There was only one rule. God said, ‘Don’t eat from the tree in the middle of the garden.  It is the knowledge of good and evil. Its fruit is deadly.”

Then one day the craftiest of all the animals came to the couple and asked, “Why don’t you try the fruit from the middle of the garden. I hear it is delicious.”

Eve responded, “But it’s poisonous.”

The snake smiled, “Don’t be ridiculous. If you are really a child of God you can eat the fruit of any tree. Eat, and become more than a child. Eat and become a god.”

Without hesitation they took a bite and the first truth they discovered was they were naked.  

The little girl looked at the Rabbi and suspiciously asked, “Is that really the way it happened?”

The Rabbi smiled, “You just make it a habit of thinking before you bite. You will be amazed how much trouble you might avoid.”

Jesus finds himself alone in that same metaphorical garden. Centuries of human desire to replace God has eradicated all its beauty. Jesus sits alone in the wilderness. There is no shade, there is no fruit, and there appears to be no life. He has been there a long time, waiting for a vision or perhaps verification of what will happen next. He has been baptized, he has been confirmed, but now he waits, wondering what might bring life back to this desolate land.

Hunger has begun to set in. He would have given anything for a corn beef and pastrami on rye. With that thought firmly planted in his mind a stranger appears.

“Jesus why are you starving when everything you desire is right at your finger tips.  I was down by the riverside the other day when you came out of the water. I heard someone say you are the son of God. Is that true? Then what’s stopping you from turning that stone into bread?”

There is a reason Jesus was in the wilderness for a long time, just like there is a reason Lent last for 40 days.  Temptation needs time to work on us. It needs time to wear us down. It needs time to give us some momentary satisfaction before jerking it away. Then it takes time to justify the decisions we make.

I envy those of you who only drink water. There is no caffeine in water. There is no sugar in water. Therefore I find no satisfaction in water. Yet I am told water by itself is the perfect drink. It is allegedly refreshing. It quenches one’s thirst. People that drink only water don’t weigh 230 pounds. They are incredulously healthy and seemingly very happy. I have tried numerous times to reach the nirvana water drinkers achieve. And yet I fail. I yield to the alluring yet deadly temptation of sweetness and caffeine. 

So why didn’t Jesus fail? Jesus was in the midst of the wilderness, surrounded by rocks that must have resembled bagels. Temptation was all around because temptation is always all around. The more Jesus resisted, the hungrier he became. His pain, his desire was real. He knew he could have had a moment of instant satisfaction but he resisted. He looked beyond the moment and was captured by a vision other than his own. He was a child of God. That was his primary identity. I am not sure at that moment Jesus completely understood what being a child of God meant but he did believe his holy baptism would carry him both into and through chaos. And he knew that the turmoil had only just begun. Hunger was not going to be his only temptation. His primal appetites were merely a prelude to the temptation of power and the possible subjugation of those who would prey on his baptismal title. Who wouldn’t anyone want the son of God standing by their side as a personal authentication of any pain or anarchy they might endorse? But Jesus, instead falling prey to his hunger, instead of making a snap decision, instead of letting bedlam in the form charisma taint his mind retreated even deeper into the wilderness, retreated even deeper into his soul, retreated as deep as he had to go to remember the water splashed upon him at baptism was a holy invitation to be drawn again and again and again out of the enticing yet life threatening deluge of chaos and into the life giving breath of God. Jesus took a moment to remember and to trust God’s baptismal promise, “You are My Son.”  It was then that Jesus found himself fully clothed in God’s word.

“One does not live by bread alone.”

“One does not put God to the test.”

“One lives to worship and serve only God.”

My friends, you too have been baptized into the life-giving breath of God. It is not a baptism into the seduction, and the anxiety, and the fear that tempts us to make reckless choices. It is a baptism of trust in the One who continues to sing, “You are a child of God.”  Remember this. Wrestle and pray about this. Then, even with fleeting confidence, face temptation and say, “Begone!”       Amen.