THE HEART OF THE MATTER (A)
Matt. 4:1-11
3/5/17
Lent I
The story of the temptation of Christ
touches the heart of the matter of our relationship to God. It touches the
point at which we are the most real, the most engaged.
You know the story. Jesus is fasting
in the dessert and tempted by the devil to 1) turn stones to bread, 2) jump off
a high place and let the angels catch him and 3) seize power over all the
kingdoms of the world. Jesus replies 1) “One does not live by bread alone, but
by every word that comes from the mouth of God,” 2) “Do not put the Lord your
God to the test,” and 3) “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.”
In the Gospel of Mark we are only told that Jesus was tempted. It is in
the Gospels of Luke and Matthew that we have the temptations
elaborated. This is a type of story seldom found in the Gospels. It is
apocalyptic and fanciful. The story lacks the usual down to earth plodding of
the parables or the Birth or Passion narratives where bits of everyday life
stick out from a manger or the road. Whereas most of the stories in the Gospels
are not of a form found much in other literature, this story would fit right in
with an Arabian tale or even a Hindu story. Hence it is tempting to say that
the story is not “real.”
There is, however, a sense in which
the story has a high degree of “realism.”
If you saw the film, “The Last
Temptation of Christ,” you saw a film that strove for grainy realism. It
was filmed in Morocco. Jesus walked grubby narrow streets and the Palm Sunday
march looked like a Cub Scout parade. Because of the diminution of scale and
the attempt for “naturalism” the film failed to convey that what was happening
was of extraordinary importance. It changed the world. Big events require
appropriate big tellings. You can’t say, “The Patriots won the supper bowl!!”
in a whisper and have it make sense. You have to say it boldly.
So it seems to me that the
conversation in the wilderness between the devil and Jesus is quite real in its
dramatic presentation. In Jesus God meets mankind right where it hurts, right
at the point of temptation. Ever since Adam and Eve there has been the desire
to “want to do things my way,” to see ourselves as the center of the universe
and to measure all things over against our own needs. It is this tension, this
conflict, that has dogged mankind, the Jewish people and people like you and me
today.
This tension between being
homeocentric and theocentric, self-centered or God centered, was dramatically
spelled out in The Book of Job. Many
of us are familiar with that story from Archibald MacLeish’s play J.B., which I’ve seen several times.
Historically the story of Job arose out of the Deuteronomic theory in the Old
Testament that if a person were devout and morally good, then he would prosper.
If a nation obeyed God, then it would prosper. Hence prosperity was seen as a
sign of God’s favor. Wisdom literature, of which Job is a part, on the other hand, said that unfortunately the good
often suffer and bad people prosper. Why then do the good suffer? Why does God
let good people suffer? Job is tempted to “curse God and die.” Job goes through
horrendous loses and pain but refuses to curse God. The resolution of this
conflict appears to be the answer that the nature of God in the universe and in
life is to a large extent unknowable - beyond our comprehension. What we do
know is that we continue to survive and to find new life and new beginnings and
new hope. Part of the profundity of God, of the mysterium tremendum, is love. His never giving up on us and our
renewal is a sign of God’s love. The love that we have for one another, for
husband and wife, parent and child, for friends, although inexplicable, is a
sign of the love God has for us. In the end, as MacLeish tells it, the answer
is that there is incomprehensible, irrefutable love. The story of Job tells us
that while you and I are tempted to renounce God, God does not renounce you or
me.
So temptation is the issue that
touches us right on the psychic nerve. Now, I want to tell you a story.
Twenty-some years ago I was celebrating the Eucharist at Courtland Gardens
nursing home. Thirty patients were lined up in front of me in their wheel
chairs and their walkers. They were in decrepit condition. Most slumped, some
slept and a few gazed vacantly around the room. When it came time for my homily
I discovered that the Gospel passage was about temptation. “How am I ever going
to make the issue of temptation real to these old people?” In a moment of
inspiration I remembered that during the early 1940s there was a song called, “Temptation.” Hoping to use that as a way of getting into various areas of
temptation in life, I started singing. “You came. I was alone. I should have
known…” At that moment thirty patients snapped bolt upright and with gesture
completed the refrain with, “YOU WERE TEMPTATION.” I was stunned. I tried to
talk about temptation, but they all flopped over back to sleep or whatever
catatonic state they were previously in.
Upon reflection I realized that when I
sang that song I brought them back to the 1940’s. That was when they were the
most active, most engaged and most alive. Now they were in their late 70’s and
80’s. But back when they were in their 20’s, 30’s, 40’s and 50’s there were
lots of temptations. Obviously there were the temptations of the appetites.
There was the desire for gratification. Food or bread is of course one of those
means of gratification. There is also the desire to feed the appetites of
others. Surely that can be seen as a good thing. A chicken in every pot may be
the slogan for a politician, but it is also the dream of millions of people
worldwide. In our youth there are the temptations to do the impossible – to be
a rock star, to be famous, to find the cure for various dysfunctions, to set a
record in sports, academics or business. All of us dream of doing things that
would test the ingenuity of angels. Most insidiously there are the temptations
for power. Simply put, we all like to control things. In each of us there is an
“I want to do it myself” DNA computer chip. You and I like to fix things.
Sometimes we even want to fix others!
The truth of the matter is that
temptation greets us at all stages of life. We are tempted to feel sorry for
our selves, to feel jealousy and resentment, to nourish grudges and hurts, to
control our lives by being mean to others. When my mother-in- law was in
Courtland Gardens, I used to watch the dynamics of the old ladies at the dinner
table, as they would cajole, maneuver and bully one another. It was subtle, but
clear and often cruel. The devil and temptation were very much at the table.
Where there are the sparks of life and
of choice, where there are those basic elements that constitute life in us,
that is where the essence of our individual life resides. It is there, at the
heart of the matter of life, the life of our lives, that the conflict with
temptation exists.
On the one hand, the story of the
temptation of Christ tells us that Jesus was both human and divine. It is
illuminated by our knowledge of the Passion and Resurrection stories. It
continues the tradition of Job in
which the most faithful servant of God is tempted and refuses to give in. At
the same time the story goes beyond the theology of Job and points to a unique messiahship, which eventually includes
the Kingdom of God and eternal life. By stating that man is sustained not only
by bread but also by the word of God, Jesus reminds His audience that life is
more than material possessions and earthly appetites. Moreover, by refusing to
allow Himself to be born by angels after a jump into space, Jesus maintains that
toying with God for magical relief violates the importance of faith. To seek
spectacular, wondrous acts is to appeal to “do it yourself” magic and quick fix
gimmicks. Finally, by refusing to seize power over the kingdoms of this world,
Jesus rejects the dream of a messianic kingship and a new kingdom of bricks,
mortar, blood and conquest. So on the one hand, the story of the temptation
tells us that Jesus was both human and divine.
On the other hand, the story tells us
something else. It tells us that in Jesus Christ God has entered into the heart
of the matter. He has entered into that place where there is the struggle in
our hearts between choice and fatalism, where there is the tension between
doing things homeocentrically or
theocentrically – man and woman centered or God centered. By being tempted and
refusing, Jesus breaks the power of the Tempter. You and I are not doomed
always to choose bread over the word of God, to choose the material over the
spiritual. By God’s acting in Jesus, the spell is broken. The power of the
extravagant exhibitionism of narcissism is stifled. It is by resisting the
earthly crown of control, the desire to make small kingdoms in life and big
kingdoms in the world, that the influence and appeal of earthly power is
diminished and shown to be hollow.
The story of the temptation of Christ
in the end shows us a God who speaks to the heart of the matter, to the heart
of our hearts, and reveals Himself as one who enters right into the area where
things are determined to be done and left undone. The story foreshadows the
Passion and Resurrection narratives. Here we see Christ’ victory over
self-centeredness (being homeocentric,) over materialism, over grandiosity,
over narcissism and over the seductive power of control. Having defeated those
temptations, Christ achieved victory for you and me over the stifling power of
the temptations of self-centeredness, materialism, grandiosity and control.
This story is a prelude. Later in the gospel story Jesus by His death and
resurrection will break the grip of and emerge victorious over sin, evil and
death.
This lent do not despair. Do not feel
captive to the temptations of self-centeredness, materialism, grandiosity and
control. Their grip has been broken. You and I are called to work with God,
valuing things spiritual as well as earthly, engaging in dreams and visions
without tempting or mocking God, and enjoying the freedom found in being loved
and in loving. In Christ you and I are offered the liberty of feeling safe and
assured of meaning and purpose in the cosmos, in the world, in life and in our
lives. This Lent be both honest with yourself and thorough in your
self-examination. At the same time, relax. Like the old ladies in the chapel at
Courtland Gardens, push your temptations to the past and sing, “You came. I was
alone. I should have known. You were temptation.” The difference is, of course
that you are not alone. Your old battles with temptation have already been won
by Jesus Christ. Reach out and take God’s hand. Better yet, reach out and allow
God to take your hand. Amen. – Fr. Gage-
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