"Naming the Temptation" | The Rev. Peter Sipple | March 6, 2022

In 19th century Britain, young men of means rounded out their formal education by taking what was called “The Grand Tour.”   This journey on the continent exposed them to other cultures and languages, but typically they would return ever more convinced that the British Empire was superior to anything they had witnessed.

Young Aboriginal males in Australia go on “Walkabout” as a way of testing their endurance and their readiness to face the challenges of a nomadic life.  And in this country and elsewhere, people willingly undergo a grueling Outward Bound course, pitting their physical prowess and emotional stability against the natural challenges of the wilderness or the open sea.  To come through such an ordeal, participants summon up courage and stamina until then untested or even undiscovered.  Along the way one can hear: “I didn’t know I could do that!” “I didn’t think I had it in me!”  Unlike the young Englishman’s Grand Tour, which tended to be self-reinforcing, the Aborigine’s Walkabout, basic training in the military, and other such physical challenges stretch the participant beyond the comfortable and accepted view of self to something stronger, more resilient, more capable. 

We Christians regard the period of Lent as a time when, following Jesus’ example, we are willing to be stretched.  But before testing our moral and spiritual integrity, we acknowledge our frailty and limitedness, our very humanity.  Last Sunday, preaching on the Transfiguration, Emily reminded us of the spiritual mountains we climb, sometimes in confusion and suffering on the way up, and then, after a period of self-study and prayer, more enlightened coming down.  In the Ash Wednesday liturgy read this past week, we recognized failures and asked God to forgive us for those many ways we renege on our birthright as children of God.  During Lent we reaffirm our Baptismal vow, that we will persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever we fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord.  This pledge recognizes evil as a persistent force in our lives.   In light of our acknowledged frailty, we truly have our work cut out for us!  How do we even recognize evil in its many guises and disguises?  It’s tempting to view evil as the remote and mythical dancing figure of Satan with horns and tail, rather than the insidious, real, potent and personal enemy, always present, always contentious.

In undertaking the persistent struggle against evil, we have the example of Jesus who was tempted in every way as we are, yet did not sin.  Luke tells us that after his baptism, Jesus returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil.  In this harshest of challenges to body and will, Jesus is tested beyond anything we have to or could endure.  The period represents a rite of passage.  Before Jesus teaches about and demonstrates the power of love, he contends with its polar opposite.  His followers had better know how insidious and tempting the dark choices can be before trying to walk with him in the light of love.  And Jesus experiences the reality of evil—not simply the aggregate of individual bad deeds, but a power that insinuates itself into human life and society.  Evil masquerades as good, for the devil is clever, misleading us by telling lies about God. 

Let’s think about the particular temptations Jesus faces: changing stones into bread would benefit hungry people, so the devil offers Jesus the chance to do good.  But this act of compassion meets a limited and transitory need only—not to the spiritual welfare of humankind.  It ignores the far broader social justice Jesus calls the Kingdom of God.  Next, the devil invites Jesus to establish his authority on earth, to counter Caesar with a far greater Caesar.  But Jesus recognizes that power in this world corrupts.  His kingdom will be of a very different kind.  The devil persists with the third temptation: all things are possible to them who believe.  If Jesus were to cast himself from the pinnacle of the temple, could he not trust God to bring him safely to the ground and so provide spectacular proof of the power of faith, compelling others to join him?  Jesus replies that testing God is the opposite of trusting God.  The person who asks for proof has not learned the meaning of faith.

In dealing with these temptations, Jesus holds to God’s way and rejects the devil’s; he turns expectations upside down and inside out.  The psychotherapist, Carl Jung, noted that “while the whole Jewish nation was expecting an imperialistically minded and politically active hero as a Messiah, Jesus fulfilled the Messianic mission not so much for his own nation as for the whole Roman world, and pointed out to humanity the old truth that where force rules there is no love, and where loves reigns, force does not count.  The religion of love was the exact psychological counterpart to the Roman devil-worship of power.”   And, we might add, that same power remains so remarkably still with us.  

So how, given our frailty, can we persevere against such a trickster as the devil, who makes evil look so attractive, who tries to convince us that a good end is worth using bad means to attain, and who appeals to our hope that our authority over others will ultimately work to their benefit?  Jesus gives us a powerful weapon to apply in this persistent combat with Satan:  he names the evil.  He identifies it for what it is.  The very naming of the temptation allows Jesus to connect with the hypocrisy and the loss in something that appears at first blush so honest and winning.  St. Paul counseled the Christians in Rome to keep their lips and hearts working together.  What we believe and what we say must connect.  Thus, after naming each temptation, Jesus tests its assumptions against those of God, as found in Deuteronomy.  “One does not live by bread alone.”  “Worship the Lord your God and serve only him.”  “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”  These are foundation stones of Judeo-Christian theology, extensions of the first great Commandment, to love the Lord your God with heart, mind, and soul.  The naming of our temptations comes first.  Then we can measure them against what we know to be essential about God.  

What are you and I called to name?  There are personal temptations such as overeating and drinking that may damage our body and undermine our self-respect.  We may be tempted to use others for our own self-gratification. There are communal temptations such as those created by our race or socio-economic status that may bring about insensitivity to the needs of those in other communities.  There are national temptations, brought about by the urge to maintain a position of power and prestige among other nations—an urge the people of Ukraine are witnessing at close range.  What temptations do you name?  And having named them, what means will you take to persevere against them?  In my view, fasting or otherwise sacrificing for Lent is meaningless unless it’s the way we choose to counter some insidious worm making its way into our personal, communal, or national lives.  Sometimes we need help identifying those temptations that God calls us to name and confront.  So during Lent, we may seek the help of family and friends in identifying the evils that tempt us collectively, and name them for what they are; for Satan will disguise them, sugar-coat them, and is happy to let us keep them covered and untended.  Our first, and perhaps most challenging test, is to call them what they are: wrongs, bad stuff that holds us back from being the child of God we want to be.  Once we name them, then we can summon the courage to persevere against them.  Such an encounter is as grueling as any Walkabout or Outward Bound challenge.

Our collect for this Sunday asks for God’s speedy assistance as we deal with temptations; for as we are weak, we believe that God is mighty to save.  To that prayer I would add: may God grant us the will and courage, following the example of Jesus, to name the evils that diminish our lives, so that we may strive to overcome them and help bring about God’s Kingdom on earth.   AMEN