Well someone told Micah this week at preschool (probably on the playground) about the devil, that the devil is real. To be honest, we don’t really talk about devil in our house. We talk about evil and doing bad things, but we don’t talk about the devil. So this was something new. “What did you learn about the devil?” I asked him, probing a little further. Micah goes on to tell me that the devil was real, that the devil is a big red, scary monster living under the ground, who was going to get us.
This became a time for us to have a little talk about the devil. “Oh, I don’t know about that, Micah,” I said.
“You don’t believe in the devil, Daddy?” I had to think about it.
“Oh, the devil is real,” I responded, “but I don’t believe in the monster underground.” We went on to talk about how the devil is less like a person or a creature and more like a temptation or a mean thought in our heads, or an angry word in our mouth…and that’s why we need Jesus to help us.
Somehow I think this came as a relief to Micah, that there’s not a big monster underground that’s going to get him, and we started talking about something else.
But isn’t it amazing first of all that he just happened to bring the devil up this week, the week we ponder again the story of Jesus being tempted by the devil?
This is a classic text for the first Sunday of Lent. How could we begin our Lenten journey, without being honest about evil and the devil?
Reflecting back on my conversation with Micah, I realize that he actually had a bunch of things right: The devil is real. The devil is a monster. And the devil tries to get us. In fact the only thing he had wrong, I believe, is that the devil was underground.
The scary truth is that the devil is far closer than under the ground. I’m bothered whenever the devil is portrayed (in films or art) as something external, a person or a creature out there. For that is to deny a part of ourselves…and we are called to be honest during Lent.
I know that the devil is real, and if you question me, like Micah did in the car, I realize that I am able to talk about the devil with a very high degree of certainty…because all I have to do is consider, even just for a second, that I am capable of such terrible things – terrible actions, terrible words, terrible thoughts.
Oh, the devil is real…(wish I had a James Earl Jones voice) for we are capable of such evil, as a species. And at the heart of it all is hubris, which is what our Bible texts today are all about—wanting to be like God, wanting all power. Oh, the devil is real...and so much closer than a monster underground. The devil climbs into our mouths as we hurt others with our words…for the sake of saving face, for the sake of puffing ourselves up, turning ourselves into something greater than we are (first temptation: “Turn these rocks into bread”). Oh, the devil is real, for how we are tempted to turn ourselves into something we’re not, striving to keep our pride.
Oh, the devil is real. The devil climbs into our minds as we make foolish decisions (another temptation: “Throw yourself off this building”).
I’ve heard both the famous golfer Tiger Woods and the former president Bill Clinton both admit in late interviews that they did what they did, engaged in the infidelities that they did, because they thought they could get away with it. I’ve heard them both speak in so many words about how power drunk they were. They did it because they could.
All their behavior and dishonesty makes me sick, like it made so many sick. But a wise colleague of mine once pointed out that it’s so easy to turn on them, to judge big public sinners, because it’s way easier to personify evil out there. When we pin evil on big public sinners, we can feel better about ourselves, we can even lie to ourselves for a little longer.
But that’s not the most honest approach. Because the devil is real.
So what a gift to come face to face with the devil again this Lent. To admit that the devil is real and has great power. Unlike the rest of culture may we reject images of the devil-out-there, and come to terms with the devil-in-here.
Because when we do, we become that much more dependent on Christ. The story doesn’t end with you standing all alone against the devil. When we are honest about the evil that resides within us, then Christ’s power becomes absolutely necessary. Jesus is essential. I might not be a Christian if it weren't for the devil because the devil helps me know my weakness and more than anything else, my need for God.
Christ Jesus faces off with the devil within us and finally comes out victorious! Thanks be to God? Being honest about the devil makes Christ’s power that much more dramatic. If we deny the devil, the evil within us, then we don’t really need Christ, like the old confession and forgiveness. “If we say we have no sin, we deiceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.”
But – hear the Good News, sisters and brothers in Christ – “when we confess our sin (our state of sin, not just this sin and that), when we confess our sin, God who is faithful and just will forgive our sin and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” Christ Jesus takes the devil, the evil within us, and crushes it! This is at the center of our faith. Christ’s wisdom and power becomes our hope. Christ guides our Lenten journey through the deserts of temptation. Thanks be to God. AMEN.
art: Temptation of Christ, J. Janknegt
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