The Face-off in the Wilderness

This Lent we are doing staged readings of our narratives in the gospels, and so today we begin with Matthew’s version of the face-off between Jesus and Satan in the wilderness. And as I was thinking about how to stage this particular reading, I had some modest, workable ideas, but THEN it came to me:

The issue on the table – If Jesus is the Son of God, will he be able to face the same temptations as the people of Israel in the wilderness and remain faithful? Will he succeed where Israel failed?

And then Al would POSE, and Alaina and Melody as Satan and Jesus respectively would rap all their lines (rapping is kind of like chanting with a sick beat), until Jesus wins and then all of his angel homies would roll up as his entourage, and he would peace out of that wilderness.

Maybe we’ll practice and do that full out in three years.

But you get the idea.

Every Lenten season begins with this battle – this story of cosmic confrontation between two champions, sent forth to fight. In one corner, you have the tempter, Satan, the champion of the forces that destroy, fomenter of rivalries, specialist in fear and violence and suspicion – the one who offers food by the world’s standards, security by the world’s standards, power by the world’s standards. It is he who takes even the words of God and distorts them to lay a snare.

And in the other corner, you have Jesus, Son of Man, Son of God, the champion of Israel, and, as Paul would have it, of all humanity. He is the one who holds on to the sacred memory of Israel; he knows his Deuteronomy. It is he who takes the wisdom gained by Israel from its prior wanderings in the wilderness, from Israel’s search for true freedom from enslaving powers, and holds onto it, fiercely, faithfully, without wavering.

The gospel we are about to hear, Matthew indicates to us, is the story of one who succeeds where the wilderness generation of Israel fell short, and who does so on behalf of a new Israel that is coming into being through the inbreaking Kingdom of God.

I’m assuming that you all have read Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy, and if you have, you know that things didn’t go so well for Israel in the wilderness the first time around.

Even after they were rescued from slavery and death and brought through mighty waters by the hand of God:
They longed for the food of Egypt.
They wondered if God was with them and sought to put God to the test.
They put their faith in other gods who were not God.
And they did all of these things over and over.

Matthew’s temptation story has Jesus go on a similar journey. After he passes through the waters of baptism, he is led by the Spirit into the wilderness and put to the test.

Hungry, Son of God? Turn these stones into bread.
Wondering if God is with you, Son of God? Throw yourself down from the height, and the angels will surely catch you.
Do you want power, Son of God? Put your faith in me, and I will give you all of this.

Jesus succeeds where the wilderness generation of Israel struggled, because according to Matthew, Jesus, in his very flesh and blood, is the embodiment of the beginnings of a new Israel and a new covenant, the one that the prophet Jeremiah spoke of when he wrote:

“This is the covenant I will make with the people of Israel
after that time,” declares the Lord.
“I will put my law in their minds
and write it on their hearts.
I will be their God,
and they will be my people.”

Something new is beginning in this one who has the wisdom of the wilderness, Deuteronomy, written in his mind and on his heart, something with the power to change everything – to forge a new path to freedom from the powers of slavery and death for the people of God.

This is the first battle of the coming cosmic confrontation between the forces of the kingdom and all of its great opponents. This is the battle for the kingdom Jesus will go throughout Galilee and on to Jerusalem to proclaim. This is the battle that will be waged again and again throughout Jesus’ ministry as he grapples with enslaving forces and heals and feeds people. This is the conflict that will culminate on a cross outside of the holy city, and there, where all seems lost, humanity and God together will find a great and hidden victory.

It might be hard for us to identify with Jesus here, but as those named “child of God” in our baptism, we are meant to. For many of us, being baptized (being brought through the waters and named child of God) did not dramatically seem to change our life circumstances. Maybe our parents threw a party for us – but we kind of just kept on doing as we did before, right? Even those of us who understand ourselves to be called to the work of social justice through our baptism are often a little low-key about the call to jump into the fray.

Matthew’s gospel challenges us to be drawn out into the wilderness and into the battle with the forces of enslavement and violence. St. Ignatius, the founder of the Jesuits, knew this and he offers us a form of prayer and self-examination based on this passage.

If you are a child of God, do you renounce the food of enslaving powers, the bread of captivity? I am not just talking about the chocolate you gave up for Lent. What is the food of captivity that you long for? Is it alcohol or opioids? Is it the praise of others or certain markers of achievement? Are you tempted to turn these stones into the bread of consumerism or graceless meritocracy or racism? Remember the wisdom of the wilderness; one does not, cannot live on the bread of captivity.

How would your life change if you were to go into the wilderness of prayer each evening and look back over your day to ask when was I held captive by food that was not nourishing?

If you are a child of God, do you believe God is with you or not? Whew, yikes, right? For many that is a difficult question. Ignatius asks it straight up. Do you notice God’s gracious presence in the world or do you treat God like a genie in the bottle, seeking to conjure him up to do your bidding? How would your life change if you were to go into the wilderness of prayer each evening to look back over your day to notice God’s presence, even in the places where you did not imagine God would be found?

If you are a child of God, whom do you worship? Do you put your trust in gods who are not God? What did you make an idol of today?

St. Ignatius doesn’t hold back any punches; he doesn’t soften the challenge of our baptisms. But he doesn’t withold any grace either. At the end the day and at the end of the prayer, after we have rummaged through the day and opened up our baggage for examination, Ignatius asks us to picture Jesus, however it is you picture Jesus, face to face with you, saying,

This is my body given for you. This is the cup of the new covenant, poured out for you. Father, forgive.

Amen.