The Third Temptation

The Third Temptation

Luke 4:9-13

Two weeks ago, we explored the first temptation.  Jesus is tempted to turn stones into bread.  Essentially, the temptation here is to make the focus of his life be the fulfillment of his own needs.  Jesus says that there is more to life than just bread.  Later, he would focus our attention on those who were hungry and the need to feed them.  Even later, he would turn a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish into more than enough food to satisfy a crowd.  Finally, he would take a loaf of bread and a cup of wine and make it taste like new life, itself.  Then, he would not eat again, ending his ministry where it all began, in a fast, in being more than just his physical needs.

Of course, this temptation is still here for all of us—to focus on trying to satisfy our own needs first.  When the supply chain starts to shake in this life, we begin to itch and twitch with thoughts like, “Maybe a whole closet full of toilet paper would be a good thing!”  Scarcity brings out the worst in us because it his hard, at a human level, to live much of what is deeper about us when we cannot escape our hunger, even if what we crave is not just food or clean water but money or power or even love and affection.  “I’m going to get mine first…” is an altogether human sentiment, a temptation Jesus would understand.  However, “me first” or "me and my family first” or “me and my tribe first” or “me and my nation first” are simply not compatible with a “deny yourself and take up your cross” way of being in the world.

Last week, we took up the second temptation: to get what we want by worshiping something that is less than God as if it is God.  The tempter shows Jesus a view of all the kingdoms of the world.  Jesus is told that the whole “kit and caboodle” will be his if only he will kneel down and worship the tempter.  In a slam on all the rulers who claim either to be ordained by God or claim to be God, the tempter says he’s the one who is in charge of the kingdoms so they are his to give away.  Jesus looks him in the eye and tells him that we should have no other God before God.  

Again, the temptation remains for us.  We don’t worship the sun or the rain or the moon like ancient people.  We create much more concrete idols in our lives:  good grades or a high test score; a well constructed resume’ of achievements; a number in a bank account; a person we would love to love; or a fame that we would give anything to grasp. We kneel down before those dreams and agree to do anything to get what we want.  And, the closer we get to those dreams, the more hollow they become and the more our souls slip away.  “I would give anything to…” should be warning sign to us all that we are in danger of veering wildly off of our path.  

Remember, Jesus would soon encounter a rich man who, it turns out, mostly worshiped himself.  He was sure that he had done everything there was to do and he had done everything exactly as it was supposed to be done.  He was pretty sure he was perfect but he wanted to check with Jesus.  Was there anything else he should do?  Jesus tells him to give away all his possessions.  The man just shakes his head and walks away…

Today, we arrive at the third temptation.  The tempter takes Jesus to the very tiptop of the temple in Jerusalem’s spire.  I like to think that if they were in Chicago, they would have been standing not just on the top of the Sears Tower/Willis Tower.  No, they would be standing on top of the antenna on top of the Sears Tower/Willis Tower!  And, I suspect, they would have crawled up the outside of the building to get there, just to drive the point home.  “We are in a precarious, dangerous place, Jesus!  Now that we are here, my friend, what do I want you to do?  I want you to jump!  Throw yourself off of this place and show the world that not even a hair on your head will be harmed.  Doesn’t the Bible say that the angels will protect you?  Jesus, don’t you think you deserve a little proof, a little security?  Don’t you think some proof might sway a few observers, too?” Jesus says, “Don’t test God.”

Now, none of us have ever asked God for a little sign, right—a little “something, something” for a job well done or maybe even a little “motivation” to do what’s ahead:  “God, I want to know you’re there.  I want to know that you’re going to make this happen.  Most of all, if I’m doing the right thing, I want to know that I’m going to be okay.”  We would like to care deeply about things without having to have our hearts break.  We would like to do the right thing without it really having to cost us much.  We would like to know that the reward for our faithful action will be that nothing bad will happen to us or to the ones whom we love.

Yet, here is what we know.  If we love, if we care deeply, if we stand up for what is right, if we do the right thing, that neither guarantees our success or our safety.  What we can know and trust is that when we do the right and faithful thing, win, lose or draw, we will have been doing the right and faithful thing.  We can know and trust that when our hearts do break, we will be consoled and that God will weep with us.  We can know and trust that when we do the right thing and it looks for all the world like we have been crushed in the process, we can hold onto hope.  We are, after all, an Easter people:  the final world is not the cross but an empty tomb.  

Think of this in this way.  Consider all the faithful people who have done the right thing and paid a heavy price.  Maybe it is family member you love who sacrificed themselves to care for another family member.  Maybe, this week, it is Dr. Paul Farmer, who devoted his life to caring for the poorest of the poor and died far too young in Haiti a few days ago.  Maybe you have a sense of history and can count those who have suffered and sacrificed themselves in order to bring God’s presence to life in this world.  Take the time, to really inventory those names.  Faith is never pain free or guaranteed to be some pathway to worldly success.  Faith is simply the promise that no matter what else happens we will live with meaning and purpose and live in the presence of our loving God, no matter what comes our way.  

The conclusion that faith would be a pathway to success or would be a guarantee that nothing bad would happen and nothing will hurt is so confounding to me.  We’re following Jesus of Nazareth here, folks.  He suffered in the wilderness.  Then, he went back into the world and began to try to help people.  Early on, his own hometown folks tried to throw him off a cliff when they didn’t like his sermon.  The crowds would gather but few would follow him.  His disciples would leave more than a little to be desired, arguing about who was the best disciple while Jesus was trying to teach them to be humble.  In the end, when he needed his friends the most, they fell asleep instead.  When he needed a little loyalty, one of them sold him out for a bag of silver.  When it felt like all was lost, (“My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?”) someone taunted him from the crowd at the foot of the cross, “If you’re the Messiah, then save yourself!” He suffered physical pain and betrayal and rejection.  And yet, we think that faith is going to let us get off, “Scott free?”

We know that some things are just plain true. As soon as we “mess up” and love our pets or our parents or our children or our friends, our lives are infinitely more meaningful and purposeful but…and this is a big “but”…we sign up to suffer.  Hard things happen:  we get a bad diagnosis; we age; an accident comes for one of us.  We don’t abandon each other in such moments. We don’t quit caring.  We don’t actually think we messed up at all.  No…we learn what it means to suffer with each other.  We learn how to console one another.  In the end, we would not trade away the hard days for a minute, not when our mutual suffering is grounded in love.

Remember this.  Trust this.  Jesus wept.  He wept when he stood before Jerusalem because he knew the suffering that was coming to that city in the future.  In the most concrete of moments, though, he wept when it turned out that his friend, Lazarus, had died before he could get to him.  Lazarus’s sisters pulled no punches with him:  “If you had been here, he would not have died.”  Jesus weeps.  Then he walks to the tomb and calls for Lazarus to come out.  Understand this though:  Jesus doesn’t make Lazarus immortal.  According to the tradition, Lazarus dies again a bit later.  No, I think Jesus weeps because he wasn’t there to walk all the way to the tomb with him, to “Dance him to the end of love,” as Leonard Cohen used to sing. What Jesus shows Lazarus that day is not that nothing bad will happen and he will never die.  What he shows him is that he is loved, every step of the way.

Jesus doesn’t make us immortal either.  He loves us, right to the end of this life.  Then, again, as an Easter people, we share in the hope of the resurrection, not in some shred of proof, not in being bullet proof, but in the sure and certain belief that the God who loves us in this life will life us well beyond this life.  We support each other and challenge each other and hold onto each other for dear life as we hold onto that hope for something more together.

Then, the text tells us, the testing is over.  Jesus, clearly, has passed this three part test with flying colors.  It’s time to leave the wilderness.  It’s time to get on with this ministry.  There are people to be healed and sermons to be preached. There are miracles to be performed.  There are moments to be suffered through and times to be celebrated.  But…and this is another big “but”…the tempter isn’t gone.  No…the tempter is just waiting for the next opportunity.  I remember one that would arise.  Do you?  It’s the moment when Peter suggests that Jesus won’t have to suffer and die on a cross.  And what does Jesus say?  Jesus says, “Get thee behind me, Satan.”  Jesus calls out his friend for playing the role of…the tempter.

There is, of course, a reason why Jesus would teach us that when we pray, we should pray, among other things, “Lead us not into temptation.”  I think Jesus knew and we all know that without a whole lot of help, we will fall prey to the temptations that come our way.  Of course, we won’t be tempted after starving for weeks or by an offer to rule the world or by a challenge to throw ourselves from some tower.  No…our temptations will be to respond in kind to the person who just treated us poorly.  Our temptation will be to seek revenge rather than redemption.  Our temptation will be to withhold forgiveness or be stingy with our grace.  Our temptation will be to only love the people who love us and to only love them when when think we’re going to get a “return.”  Our temptation will be to quit caring because caring simply hurts too much.  And the tempter won’t always be some guy with a pitchfork or some stranger.  No, sometimes, like Jesus, it will be our friends who tempt us.  Sometimes—maybe in our hardest times—the voice that we hear tempting us turns out to be our own.  

Having come to grips with the place of his own needs in the wilderness, Jesus would eat and drink but care far more about other things.  Having been tempted to grab power in the wilderness, Jesus would make peace with being powerless in the world.  Having been offered the chance to grab some proof to rely on, Jesus was ready to walk and invite others to follow him on a pathway of faith.

And I suspect that the challenges of the wilderness, would soon pale next to the challenges ahead…