January 18 -- Tempted in the Wilderness

I’ve been working on projects this new year.  Been doing some painting, some repairs around the house, some art projects too -- a side of me that’s been neglected for a while.  And I’ve been organizing pictures -- almost 14 years of pictures -- about a 1000 pictures a year.  And so I’ve been reflecting back...

And one of my favorite series of pictures in our collection is our move to Chicago.  Heather and I had a comfortable life in Thousand Oaks.  We got our first apartment together right after we got married, we had comfortable life -- friends and family all very close by.  And then I decide God is calling me to go study theology, maybe even be a pastor.  And we spent 1 of those 2 comfortable years visiting schools and job options for Heather, and we finally decide on Chicago.  Which means we have to pack up all our things, and move to the Midwest.  I love our pictures of last suppers with different groups of friends.  Some of the church members where I had been working as a youth director showed up and helped us get everything into the truck (not quite sure what to make of all that now ;)  And then after all that time and preparation we drive the Uhaul truck, towing our only car literally across the country.  It was so exhilarating and frightening all at once.  Great pictures documented our journey.  And our first hurdle was to cross the desert in July.  I’d never driven a giant Uhaul truck at that point, never towed anything, and was so worried we’d get stranded in record heat.  But we made it.

Here’s what I want to say:  If you want to go to the fertile green, rolling hills of America’s bread basket, corn country -- Illinois, Iowa, Missouri, Nebraska -- you have to go through the desert.

Jesus had to go through the desert too.  This text comes to us this year, not at the beginning of Lent, like it normally does -- but this year we hear it in the order of the Gospel of Matthew.  We’ve just been working our way through, and right after Jesus’ baptism (last Sunday) it says, Jesus is led into the desert.  

Last week I talked about how Jesus gets down in the deep waters, the deep pain and sorrows, the deep humanity of our reality.  And this week that continues as he gets down into the deep temptations, tested...in the wilderness.  Last week Jesus is named the Son of God.  And this week, the devil -- Diabolos in the Greek, which literally means the Thrower of Obstacles or, I’d say, the Tripper -- the devil doesn’t miss a beat and says, OK, if you’re truly the “Son of God” then...

Last week was wet.  This week is dry.  Jesus goes through it all.

And Matthew, the Gospel writer, is centering his audience on this great theme of double-mindedness.  It’s pretty easy to fool everyone that you’re righteous -- that’s true for all of us.  For one thing, just get baptized right?  Do good things.  Be humble and kind with your words (and your Facebook posts).  Lead an upstanding life, be faithful to your spouse and your children.  Vote.  Go to church.  Pray at meals.  Support public television.  Adopt a family at Christmas.  And if any recognition or praise is ever passed your way, duck it, say something humble, and flip the praise onto someone else.  Classy.  We’re pretty good at fronting, showing the world how righteous we are.  (I think I do a pretty good job of it.)

But if we take the world’s eyes and commentary out of it.  If we strip away all those voices of praise and pressure, and just stand alone, then we’re forced to come face to face with the truth.  Then we come face to face with God.  You have to go through the desert.  There is a certain journey that followers of Jesus must take -- a certain winter wilderness that we must face.  Jesus took that journey to the wilderness.  He came out of those baptismal waters pretty glossy and clean.  Compare the artistic renditions of Jesus in his baptism vs. Jesus in the wilderness.  In his baptism he looks glossy and clean, as you’d expect.  And in the wilderness he’s tattered and famished.  

So it is with us -- if we choose to follow Jesus.  God’s going to love this broken world with or without our help.  God names us beloved too with or without our permission.  But now we are called to follow Jesus.  And Jesus is headed for the desert.  

We can look pretty glossy and clean on the outside -- and we should.  I’m not saying we need to wear it all on our sleeve.  But how’s it going on the inside?  Tattered and famished?  That’s how we come out of the desert.  Our clothes were sweaty and smell after our cross-country move.  If we strip the world away for a brief time and come face to face with God, we’d have to face some things about ourselves that maybe we’re not proud of -- some things that we can keep secret from our family and our friends, our communities and our church.  

We come face-to-face with God in the wilderness, and we also come face-to-face with the devil.  It’s always subtle.  Jesus wasn’t tempted with obviously evil and illicit things -- murder, adultery, stealing.  Jesus was tempted with 3 things that -- in themselves -- are not at all evil:  wealth, security and power.   

Wealth?  “Turn these stones into bread.”  You know how many stones are in the desert?  (This text had more meaning for me the first time I drove to Phoenix from here and saw all those stones as you descend into the wilderness towards El Centro.)  Jesus is being tempted to take way more for himself than he needs.  And we’re tempted by that all the time.  

Security.  Nothing wrong with that in itself.  But if it becomes a stumbling block to God’s mission which always involves risk-taking, then we get tripped.  “Protect yourself,” the tempter says.  “Nothing wrong with that.  C’mon, you’re not going to save the world.  You’ll always have the poor with you.  Live well, be merry.  Don’t expose yourself to all that pain...all that insecurity.  You’ve got angels -- you’ve got security nets.  Use them.”  This is one of the toughest for us, in our culture.  Where do you put your trust -- does your bank statement reflect that?  

And power.  Jesus‘ integrity is challenged.  “Sell your soul to me,” the devil says, “and you can have it all -- no one even has to know.”  

Even with all our technology, people alway feeling like they’re being watched -- which is another issue altogether.  But even with that, even if you feel like Big Brother is always peering down at you, there are still things that we can get away with...because no one but you can see what’s really inside.  

No one but you and God.  And God loves you no matter what.  

So I want to challenge you to go to some kind of wilderness this year.  Get some kind of silence, some kind of distance, where you can be alone with God.  And be prepared to be tested, tripped up.  Because God sees through all our fronts.  

And God loves us anyway.  And after enduring that hot tense desert experience we come out ready to love and serve.  The verdant pastures of ministry to our neighbors, the valleys and meandering streams -- I’m thinking of when our moving van coasted down into the lush corn fields of the Midwest -- this is the place to which our God has called us.  AMEN.