Gospel: Matthew 4:1-11
March 1, 2020
Jesus’ Baptism was followed by an ordeal. The Spirit, the very breath of God, led Jesus into the wilderness where he had to contend with the elements for 40 days. This was no camping trip, this was a spiritual proving ground. He would be confronted by the Adversary of Scripture with temptations but not until the very end, when Jesus was presumably at his weakest, most vulnerable moment. It seems hardly fair for Jesus to have spent 40 days where food was scarce to non-existent, and then to have the opening salvo of temptation be food! But, fairness in these “hunger games” was never part of the deal. The stakes were high, for it was a battle for our souls that would culminate on the Cross of Calvary. As Paul describes it in his Letter to the Romans, “By the one man’s obedience the many will be made right with God.”
In Lent we are reminded of the Apostle Paul’s view of the Incarnation: Jesus became what we are, so that we could become what he is. Christians make the faith claim that Jesus of Nazareth, as the 2nd Person of the Trinity dwelling among us at a point in history, was fully God and fully human at the same time. The fully human part in this equation means that Jesus while in the wilderness was vulnerable like us, that Jesus was hungry, afraid of the unknown, and subject to temptation. Jesus is the model for Christian life, so let’s not be under any misconception that life is guaranteed to be easy. A comfort zone was never part of the deal. In Lent, we look carefully at the wilderness metaphor, because like it or not, wilderness is part of our journey as well.
We encounter a spiritual wilderness at any point we enter a time of great uncertainty. Like some of you, Layne and I are reading the daily Lenten reflections in the “Living Well through Lent” booklet. In today’s reflection entitled “Wilderness,” Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde notes that in life we encounter 2 kinds of wilderness: the kind we choose to enter and the kind that “comes to us without warning.”
For me, an example of the kind of wilderness we choose was my decision to retire. At first, I thoroughly enjoyed not having to rise early, not having to rush through getting ready and not having a daily commute. I loved the change. But, it did not take long for the high from the initial freedom to wear off a bit and for boredom to come into play. In this wilderness of my own choosing, I learned more deeply that I was more than the job that had defined me for so long. I learned that I was not ready to “throw in the towel” and sit around the house all day. I learned that activities of self-improvement and hobbies alone were not enough for me to be the person I felt called to be in this phase of life. That was about the time a member of the Diocesan staff called me early in 2018 asking how I would feel about being considered as Interim Rector at Grace, Galveston.
An example of the kind of wilderness you don’t choose, one big example that many of us have in common, was Hurricane Ike. I served as head of school at Trinity Episcopal School in those days. As the school year began in 2008, none of us had any idea Galveston would be devastated by flood waters from the 3rd most destructive storm ever to make landfall in the United States. Ike hit in the early morning hours of September 13, and the damage was such, we could not reopen school until October 20! Usable classroom space was very limited, but it worked because only a fraction of our students returned at first. Some days we had electricity and some days we did not; Xerox copies of textbooks had to be used in place of those that had been destroyed. Teachers and students adapted to circumstances; there was no other choice. Reflecting on all of this at the end of the school year in May, I noted that we had all changed in some way. Were there things we no longer took for granted? Did the stuff we own no longer seem as important as before? Was there a greater sense of connection among those who were recovering? Was there a greater desire to help others who were victims of tragedy? I think we came out of it all with a new perspective, stronger resilience, and a greater ability to see God at work among us. As the years go by, we need to remember those days and try not to lose sight of the insight and character gained. Though, let me underscore this, dear God please, none of us want to go through that again!
Whether chosen or not, we all, at one time or another, find ourselves in the wilderness. Bishop Budde explains that the wilderness always has a pearl of great price to impart. I think Jesus left the wilderness knowing he would never say “no” to God. In the end, he was victorious over death, winning our salvation, being obedient all the way to the Cross.
The journey of Lent means owning the wilderness in which we find ourselves at this point. Some of the uncertainties we share. What’s going to happen when Covid-19 comes around? How will the ideological divides in my community play out? Other uncertainties seem more specific to the individual. What is that biopsy or that blood test going to reveal? How do I parent my adult children? It is so much easier to examine the old wilderness times than the ones we might be in the middle of now. But I think, at least, if we can see the pearls that came forth in the past, perhaps we find enough hope to be on the lookout when we leave the place of today’s unknowns.
Repentance is a recurring concept in Lent. It’s the best theological description of the pearl to be found in the wilderness of Lent. It comes from the Greek word “metanoia.” The term includes contrition, but it means more than that. The term “repent” means a complete turning around. In other words it means transformation as in the transformative power of God’s love.
Perhaps, real change does not happen in a comfort zone. Educators have the idea that there are two kinds of tests and assessments. The one with which we are most familiar is summative; this kind shows what you know. But there is another kind of test called a formative assessment. This is the kind of test in which you learn and grow by taking the test itself. Real life is more like a formative test, and the wilderness experience can be a formative test when we find a pearl of great price in it. AMEN.
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