Jesus in the Wilderness

Jesus in the Wilderness

Mark 1:12-13

So, the classic way to preach about Jesus in the wilderness is clear.  Jesus is baptized.  Jesus goes into the wilderness.  For forty days and forty nights, he stays there and fasts.  During that time, “the tempter” comes and tempts Jesus—to turn stones into bread; to compromise his calling in order to get power; to demand proof of his own security.  Three times, Jesus resists temptation.   We look at ourselves and remember how easily tempted we can be, especially when we’re needy, and we think, “Oh man…good luck to us with this whole temptation thing…” Then, we fold our hands and bow our heads and pray, “Lead us not into temptation,” and somehow, we mean it just a little more. 

There’s a lot of value to considering temptation in our lives but that’s not where we are going this year.  Three of the four Gospels tell the story of Jesus in the wilderness (Matthew, Mark, and Luke.) Matthew and Luke focus on the temptations.  Mark mentions that Jesus was tempted but almost as an aside.  This morning, we’re going to try to hear what Mark is saying to us instead.

Here’s what we know from last week.  John the Baptist was drawing big crowds to the Jordan River, baptizing people and challenging them to fundamentally change how they lived.  Yes, you could hoard things.  Yes, you could cheat people.  Yes, you could use the power you have to take advantage of others.  However, if you’ve been baptized, you don’t get to live that way.  The last person John baptizes is Jesus and when he does, the spirit descends like a dove and a voice speaks:  “You are my Son, the beloved.  With you I am well pleased.”

As we suggested, this is the ultimate moment of validation for Jesus.  He’s left a whole life behind—people he loved, work that was meaningful, a place that was home.  His family thought he would care for them.  His village depended on his carpentry. Who abandons their friends?  One day, Jesus left and became known as the guy who abandoned everything.  Even If he didn’t abandon you, you would have found him a terrible example, a living invitation for your son or your friend or your carpenter to suddenly leave.  It’s hard for us to imagine this because our world is so transitory.  In those days, though, this just did not happen. Still, Jesus leaves.  He takes a huge risk.  People are totally disappointed in him. And then…a voice speaks from heaven that basically says, “You are loved. You are in exactly the right place at exactly the right time!”

Wouldn’t that be amazing!  As a therapist and a pastor, I get to be a part of change in people’s lives.  I sit with them while they work through the stuck, life-draining patterns and habits and roles in their lives.  I listen as they turn on those “givens.”  I watch as an insight comes to life, “I don’t have to do this! I don’t have to live this way!  I could choose differently.”  At which point, I wish so much that there would be some validation, some support and encouragement for them.  However, that rarely happens.  If you change and you and I are close, that probably means that I’m going to have to change, too.  What if I’m not ready to change, even if you are? What if that leads me to do everything I can to undercut your change?

I will always remember the family who begged a beloved family member to stop drinking. They did.  A few weeks later, the family realized at some unspoken level that if that person didn’t drink anymore then everyone in the family was going to have to change. They didn’t know how to eat together or what to talk about or how to be close if the drinking was gone.  Not long after that, someone asked the former drinker to pick up some groceries, “And, oh, by the way…could you stop at the liquor store on the way?” It’s our ancestors in faith, finally set free from slavery and then longing for the good old days when they were slaves.

The day that Jesus left Nazareth, everything changed. Jesus took this huge risk but he immediately was told, in no uncertain terms, that he was in the right place and doing the right thing. Now, rest assured,  I’ve never heard a voice speak from the heavens.  However, I have had someone who said something to me that seemed inspired, that seemed validating.  I’ve have had small things happen that have left me thinking, in the middle of hard change, “Maybe this is right.  Maybe this is where I’m supposed to be.  Maybe this is what I’m supposed to be doing.” It’s not that things are going so well that I’ve got proof.  It’s more like I’ve got a hunch or, maybe, what I have is a dose of hope and a dash of faith.

Of course, what we’d really prefer when it comes to validation is visible, tangible results, right? “If I’m doing the right thing then I want my return on investment.  I want my needs to be accounted for.  I want some security.  I want to be admired.  I want people to hang on my every word.  And…I’d like a nice retirement plan when I’m done.  Is that too much to ask?”  If I’m going to respond to God’s calling and do the right thing, then shouldn’t God throw me a little something for the effort?

Sure, none of us are crass enough to say such things out loud.  However, in a society where almost everything is transactional, where the the default question is, “What’s in it for me,” such thoughts are always buried way down deep in us.  Even if we are not looking to get rich or be adored because we are doing the right thing, there is always a part of us that is ready to ask, “If I’m doing the right thing then why is this so damn hard? Where’s my reward?”

It’s not easy to be a loving parent, to be a loving spouse, to be a loving friend, to keep doing the work of trying to be a faithful person.  Let’s not even get started on how hard it is to love the people we don’t love and forgive the people we don’t want to forgive, not to mention, the unachievable challenge of loving our enemies.  It’s not easy to be different and to make different choices.  We’d love to fit in! It’s not easy to do the right thing and get treated like we’re a chump.  Who doesn’t wish for a sign, for some evidence that our hard work matters, that I am where I’m supposed to be and that I am doing what needs to be done?

Here’s the thing:  God does offer us encouragement.  How do I know this?  I know this because Mark’s Gospel tells me so.  I also know it because every now and then it happens in my life. I’m betting it happens in your life too.

Mark, as always, uses the fewest words possible to suggest the most powerful things.  First, he tells us that the same Spirit that descends upon Jesus at his baptism forces Jesus into the wilderness. This is the necessary next stop in Jesus’ journey.

Think of the wilderness as,“The land of ‘no.’” You’ve been there.  You are totally ready to start your next “adventure” in life. You are like a thoroughbred in the starting gates at the Kentucky Derby, just kicking at that stall:  “Let’s go already!”  But the word that comes back to you is, “Not yet!” And…you hate waiting!

We’ve also all been through times when we had to accept what was obviously “not enough…not even close!”  (As a college student when I was exactly where I needed to be, I ate Kraft macaroni and cheese on the good days and ate the sample pizza at the grocery store on the bad days.  That’s the only way I would have the money to go back to school!). Jesus hungers and thirsts in the wilderness.  We’ve learned to live without. Maybe we learned things..  At the time, though, all we felt was the fear and the pain.

And, if it is not enough to be told, “no,” then we can also be required to say no.  (Long ago, in a previous life, when I still smoked, on the day I stopped, someone approached me with a Cuban cigar.  I thought about how much I loved Cuban cigars as I rubbed the nicotine patch on my arm.) Temptation almost always comes knocking. When it comes, we have to do the hard work of looking temptation in the eye and saying, “No, thank you. I don’t smoke…”

Mark promises us that even when life’s theme is “no” and “not yet,” there are things that still whisper to us that we are not lost.  Mark tells us that two things happen for Jesus in the wilderness: the wild animals are Jesus’ companions and the angels take care of him.  What does that mean?

Our ancestors were terrified of the wilderness because there were wild animals out there! Those wild animals wanted to eat you for lunch!  If you were lucky, maybe the wild animals might leave you alone. However, no one would have ever thought of those animals as good company!  These animals were Jesus’ companions.

Here’s the thing, though: Mark is pointing to something that we’ve probably experienced: that God is with us, even in our days of “fasting” and unmet needs.  God reminds us that we’re not alone by sending us the most surprising companions.  So, here you are in the hospital recovering and you’ve looked for comfort from your friends and family and your physician but they’ve all gone home for the night.  Then, the cleaning lady comes in your room and she, of all people, puts her mop down and sits with you.  She, of all people, comforts you. She’s a God-send.  

When we find ourselves struggling in a time of “no,” we have to remember that God will to surprise us with the most unlikely of companions.  We should look for the least likely person doing the least likely of things and listen carefully.  God will find you. God will show up as the bagger at the grocery store or as the person walking that totally annoying dog or as the homeless person who  approaches you.  Smile at them. Look them straight in the eye.  Listen carefully to what they say.  Remember— God is way more into relationships than bottom line results.  God delights more in sending us everyday prophets rather than high profit margins.

Jesus is also cared for by angels.  We will be fed a glimpse of God’s presence every now and then.  As with our ancestors, we will be given just enough manna for the day, no more, no less.  Like our ancestors, we may even turn on the angels and say, “Manna, again?”  It’s like communion—just a bite of God’s grace and a taste of God’s love to help us remember that God is right here with us.  We might even learn that somehow a little bit is more than enough.

Maybe if we want evidence of God’s presence,  we shouldn’t be asking if we have everything we ever wanted.  Maybe we just thank God that we have some.  Maybe we accept that enough is all we need.  What if it is the angels are caring for us when we step outside on a cold night and, for no good reason, look up and get lost in the stars?  What if we become angels ourselves when we recognize that the person who caught our eye looks a lot like they are lost in the wilderness, themselves.  So, we reach out and care.  We are a part of what sustains them in their time of “no” and “not yet.”

Sometimes, we find ourselves where we would rather not be, struggling to hold on.  God will be there in the surprising companions we meet, in the glimpses of “something more,” that provide a glimpse of light in the gloom.  God is not more present when we like how things are going.  God is not less with us when we don’t.  God is simply with us…no matter what comes our way.  Knowing that, we can finally get ourselves out of God’s way and get started…