Lent 1 Year C

Lent is a time to follow the supremely human Jesus in the wilderness.

Luke 4:1-13

A young mother had been working hard to teach her five-year-old daughter how to say the Lord’s Prayer. One night she overheard the young girl reciting the prayer solo in her room just before bedtime.  The little girl carefully enunciated each word and was coming in for a solid landing when she got to the last line and she prayed, Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us some E-mail.  Amen.

Now, I’m uncertain how electronic mail fits into God’s plan of salvation, but the season of Lent has come upon us as a reminder that all the answers to the questions of faith aren’t just going to show up one day in our inbox. Rather, the search for those answers will require a sojourn in the wilderness.

The backdrop to this week’s Gospel is the baptism of Jesus. After struggling with many of the same questions of faith that you and I struggle with as we begin our Lent, Jesus stood there on the banks of the Jordan River, looking at that throng of spiritually hungry humans, and he knew at that moment the answer was that he should become one with them in the waters of baptism.

Some years ago, when I was the Ecumenical Officer for the diocese, the Commission of which I chaired organized an historic baptism service at the Roman Catholic Cathedral in the town where I served. The Roman Catholic Bishop, the Episcopal Bishop, The Lutheran Bishop and the Armenian Orthodox Bishop all joined together to baptize a baby from each tradition. I remember that one of the things we had to insure was that the Orthodox baby be baptized in separate water from the other babies. The reasoning for this was not to be exclusive, but it is traditionally held in their tradition, that if two people are baptized in the same water they literally become brothers and sisters.

Could it be that, at his baptism, Jesus decided to literally become a sibling to all of humanity? The reason the baptism of Jesus is such an important prelude to his Lenten walk in the desert, is because each of the temptations that he meets there are designed to lure him into denying the humanity that he has just consciously chosen.

St. Luke’ screenplay of that first Lent allows us to listen in as the devil whispers in Jesus’ ear:

Come on Jesus, you can turn these stones into bread, there’s no reason for you to suffer human hunger.  Real Gods don’t starve to death. Come on Jesus, Gods don’t have to work their way into the hearts of people; they don’t have to struggle to gain power. All you have to do is say the word and all the kingdoms of the earth will be yours. You’re not like those puny humans. Come on Jesus, throw yourself off this Temple pinnacle… If anyone else did it, they would surely die… but everybody knows that Gods don’t bleed. Come on Jesus!

Here’s the message for us on the First Sunday of Lent: 

Each time Jesus is given a choice, even when that choice is accompanied by a tantalizing enticement, Jesus chooses humanity. As it turns out, the only bread Jesus is interested in are the loaves that might feed the physically hungry, and the bread of life that might feed the spiritually hungry. 

As it turns out, the only power that Jesus is interested in, is the power of the lure of love, and that is why he begins his ministry with an invitation:  Follow Me.

Jesus made those choices in the frightening and foreboding Judean Desert, and Jesus invites us to walk with him in the wilderness these next forty days so that we can learn together what it means to become more fully human.

Just a couple of weeks ago, you and I were bombarded by television commercials that were meant to straighten us out on the meaning of love and just what it takes to demonstrate our love. Remember Valentine’s Day?

I’m afraid it hasn’t all been pretty. Most of you have probably seen the commercial that shows an adoring man giving a woman some kind of diamond pendant. Her eyes light up like the stars of night, and as she hugs and kisses him, an angelic choir begins to sing the heavenly announcement:

Every kiss begins with Kay.

The fact is every kiss does NOT begin with Kay. 

♦   God kissed humanity in the dirt of the garden at creation.

♦   God kissed humanity in a cold stable cave on the first Christmas.

♦   God kissed humanity when Christ willingly and knowingly stepped into the same water as tax collectors, sinners and a whole brood of vipers!

♦    And, as we will discover when we walk The Way of the Cross this Lent, God kissed humanity when Jesus Christ willingly embraced the hard wood of the cross. 

The rejected, the hurting, the lonely, the sick, the poor, the hungry, the oppressed, the outcasts, the deprived and the depraved. THESE were the jewels that Jesus desired; these were the pearls of great price. Every kiss does not begin with Kay! 

I submit to you that the temptations that well up in us with the greatest force are of the same order as those that Jesus faced in the Lenten wilderness. They are the temptations to become less human, to become someone other than who we were meant to be.

The story is told of the time that the great Hassidic Rabbi, Zusia, came to his followers. His eyes were red with tears, and his face was pale with fear. 

Zusia, what’s the matter? You look frightened!

The other day, I had a vision. In it, I learned the question that the angels will one day ask me about my life.

The followers were puzzled. Zusia, you are pious.  You are scholarly and humble. You have helped so many of us. What question about your life could be so terrifying that you would be frightened to answer it?

Zusia turned his gaze to heaven. I have learned that the angels will not ask me, ‘Why weren’t you a Moses, leading your people out of slavery?’

His followers persisted. So, what will they ask you?

And I have learned, Zusia sighed, that the angels will not ask me, ‘Why weren’t you a Joshua, leading your people into the promised land?’

One of his followers approached Zusia and placed his hands on Zusia’s shoulders.  Looking him in the eyes, the follower demanded, But what will they ask you?

They will say to me, ‘Zusia, there was only one thing that no power of heaven or earth could have prevented you from becoming.’ They will ask, ‘Zusia, why weren’t you Zusia?’

Lenten temptations are those whispers that ask us to turn away from agape, the love of the unlovable, the love of God. Sometimes I think we believe that it would be easier to be God than to love like God!   Yet to love like God is the path to becoming truly human.  Therein lies the irony of our faith. We, in the church, claim divinity for Jesus precisely because he resisted all temptations to become something less than human. 

So, let’s take some time to walk with him in the wilderness. Let’s use this time of Lent to re-discover for ourselves what it means to be truly human.