March 9, 2014
Matthew 4:1-11
Have you ever been in a conversation about religion with someone whose response to every statement is “Yes, but the Bible says….” I always want to refer them to the story of Jesus being tempted in the wilderness because even the devil can quote scripture to his advantage! In fact, “the way this passage is written, at first it sounds like a nice, civilized debate,” with the two parties both quoting authorities to support their argument . . . or perhaps upping the ante in a poker game. “I’ll see your reference [to the psalms] and I’ll raise you [with Deuteronomy].”[1]
It sounds like a game, doesn’t it? Or, to our modern ears, it just sounds kind of foolish, especially if we picture the devil as a little red guy with horns and a tail. Even if we do take the story more seriously, it is still tempting to think that the temptations weren’t a big deal, or at least not to Jesus. After all, Jesus was the Son of God, right? Traditionally, the church has said Jesus is both human and divine. So of course Jesus could withstand a little temptation. How ridiculous to think otherwise.
But before we dismiss the story, we have to remember our covenant with the Bible. As much as we might like to, we cannot simply ignore it. We can argue with it. We can disagree with it. But we cannot simply walk away from it. So let’s see if we, like Jacob with the angel, can wrestle until we get our blessing.
First, the devil tempts Jesus to turn stones into bread. Sure, that’s difficult to resist for someone who has been fasting in the wilderness. But what makes it more difficult is that Jesus is interested, not just in feeding himself, but in feeding all who are hungry. Turn stones into bread? “There was no shortage of stones in Israel, and no shortage of hungry people. Wouldn’t it be just like the Son of God to feed the multitudes, providing bread for the world in a miraculous way?”[2] Turning stones into bread seems right up Jesus’ alley.
Then the devil tempts Jesus by telling him to throw himself off the pinnacle of the temple—a height that would kill an ordinary mortal. But because the angels would save him, he would thereby prove that he is who he claims to be. Just consider how much time that would save him. He could reveal his true identity, almost like Clark Kent ripping open his shirt right in front of Lois Lane and the whole staff of the Daily Planet. With one act, Jesus could prove to the people that he is who he claims to be—not just a healer or miracle worker or itinerate preacher, but the Son of God. That would be tempting.
Finally, the devil tempts Jesus by promising to give him all the kingdoms of the world; all Jesus has to do is worship the devil. This is the one that really seems outrageous, right? Jesus worshiping the devil? But what the devil offers is what Jesus is after. “Isn’t he trying to establish the kingdom of God on earth, and couldn’t he do it more quickly if all the earthly kingdoms were already his?”[3]
All of these temptations were powerful, not because they would undermine his calling, but because they gave the promise that they would enhance it, expand it, and expedite it.
Jesus knows that he is called to be the Messiah. And he knows what people expect of their Messiah. They expect power and glory and a fulfillment of all their identified needs—in other words, the very things the devil is offering. But, as Jesus has already shown, he knows his bible. He is familiar with Isaiah’s vision of the servant of God who suffers for others. He knows that his mission on earth will not be accomplished through political power or at the end of a sword.
And so he has a choice before him, a choice that ultimately will be a choice between life and death. He chooses the life that appears to be a road to death because he knows that that which appears to be life will bring a different kind of death.
Still think it was easy? a debate, a poker game, or a foolish tale with no relevance to our contemporary lives? Not if you’ve ever wrestled with your own demons, you don’t. Not if you’ve ever fought temptation . . . and lost.
Our demons look different, no doubt. In all the temptations I’ve faced over the years, not one has been to throw myself off the steeple of the church to prove that angels will save me. As one preacher states it: “When it’s our turn, none of us is going to get the Son of God test. We’re going to get the regular old Adam and Eve test, which means that the devil won’t need much more than an all-you-can-eat buffet and a [higher] tax refund to turn our heads.”[4]
Temptation comes in many forms. And, unlike opportunity, temptation does not knock only once.
A number of years ago, there was a famous psychological experiment done with children called “the marshmallow test.” It was a test about delayed gratification. Children were placed in a room by themselves, seated at a table. In front of them was placed a marshmallow. The children were told that they could eat the marshmallow if they wanted, but if they waited until the instructor left and came back, they would be given a second marshmallow. Then a hidden camera recorded their actions.
This test has been repeated many times, but in the version I watched on Youtube, the children used a variety of methods to resist temptation. Some covered their eyes. Others held their hands away. Some of them sniffed it, or pretended to eat it. One little girl took little nibbles, all around the edge, then put it upside down, hoping the person in charge wouldn’t notice. Those who designed the test took away the best options for resisting temptation: the ability to “step away from the marshmallow!” If the children had been able to move away from it, they might have gotten distracted by other things, or at least would have been able to put some distance between them and the temptation. But no, they had to sit in the chair, right in front of the marshmallow in all its ooey-gooey-ness.
But that’s the way it is with temptation, isn’t it? Sometimes it is all-consuming. Sometimes it is everywhere you look. Whether it’s the chocolate or the alcohol or the retail therapy—sometimes it seems you can’t get away from it. It would be easier if you could. You might get distracted and find something else more appealing. You might be stronger at a distance. You might be just lazy enough not to get off the couch and get the stepstool and move the stuff off the top of the refrigerator in order to get to the cabinet where you hid the Easter candy.
But let’s say the temptation is to something a little more worrisome than Cadbury eggs. Let’s say it’s that person at work . . . The one who thinks you’re funny. (Your spouse knows all your jokes.) The one who says “Nice outfit. Is that new?” (Your husband either didn’t notice or complained about the cost.) The one who says, “Have you been working out?” (Your wife just complains about you spending more time away.) The one who drops hints about their unhappy marriage: “Your spouse is so lucky.” (“Lucky” is not the word your spouse would use right now.) And suddenly you have all that ooey-gooey temptation right in front of you. Only, unlike the kids with the marshmallow, if you resist, you’re not going to get two! You’re going to get what you already have, which may not be so ooey-gooey anymore.
How do you resist? Cover your eyes? (If I don’t look at him, I won’t see that smile.) Hold your hands away? (I can look at her; I just can’t touch.) Take a sniff? (Dang, they smell good.) Nibble around the edges of temptation, thinking that a little might satisfy your craving, and is surely not enough to get caught?
This is one of the temptations that can change our lives, and most often not for the good. We know other life-wrecking temptations, of course. Now, for the record, I don’t list addiction as an issue of temptation. You cannot overcome an addiction through simple willpower or self-restraint, so that falls into a different category altogether.
Still, we know the big temptations, and although they can wreck our lives, and although they can seem huge at the time, they actually in some ways are the easiest merely because they are so obvious. We know we’re crossing the line because the lines are clear.
But what about the other temptations that rule our lives? Perhaps your temptation is performance. If not performance, maybe pretense. If not pretense, then maybe past tense (and the lure of living there). If not the past, then maybe the future holds your power. Maybe it’s power itself that sucks you in. Maybe it’s sucking every last drop of sweet revenge that you can’t resist. Maybe you can’t resist living by the fist if not of might than the power of right . . . being right, doing right, withholding rights from those who say you’re wrong. You can be tempted by what’s wrong, or be tempted by what’s right but not for you, or be tempted by what’s left when you promised what’s first to God. You can be tempted to leave because it’s easier than the work it takes to stay, and you can be tempted to stay because it’s the devil you know. Temptations come in many forms and few with horns, though some in sack cloth and some in low-cut cloth. I can’t name them all, though I can claim quite a few.
How do we resist these temptations? We have a choice to make. We have choices to make. Again and again. And we do it the same way Jesus did: by being true to our calling. Yes, he wanted to feed the hungry; but his calling was to feed them body and soul. Yes, he wanted to establish God’s kingdom, but God’s way; no shortcuts. And yes, he wanted people to know he was who he claimed to be, at least eventually, but he couldn’t be who he claimed to be if he gave in to evil.
Jesus made the right choice by being true to his calling. And that’s how we do it, too. You may be thinking, “Well, that’s easy for you to say; you pastors are clear about your calling. I’m a stay-at-home mom. Or I’m a manager; I’m a teacher; I’m retired. How does that help me resist temptation?” Because your calling isn’t your career. Your calling is this: “Love the lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. And love your neighbor as yourself.”
That is your calling. That is my calling. It’s as simple as that. And as difficult as that.
When love is our calling, there is no room in our lives for bigotry. When love is our calling, we can’t ignore the needs of those around us. When love is our calling, even good desires like providing for our families must be tempered by the question “At what cost?” When love is our calling, temptation doesn’t have much of a chance.
Jesus was true to his mission. In the end, Jesus did every one of the things the devil tempted him to do—but he did them his way. Instead of turning stones into bread, he multiplied bread and fish to feed a multitude. Instead of being worshipped for being powerful, he is worshiped because he became a servant. And instead of hurling himself from the pinnacle of the temple, he gave his life from the pinnacle of a cross.
Whatever else that may have been, it was a choice made out of love.