Deuteronomy 26:1-11; Psalm 91:1-16; Romans 10:8b-13; Luke 4:1-13
[Image: Tall glass vases filled with stones, branches stripped of foliage and painted white]
First of all, I would like to express my thanks to Shirlanie and Jacques and Nancy N. and Tana for coordinating the Lenten decorations for our worship space. I walked in Friday and thought, ‘now that is a really good illustration for Lent, and especially for today’s Gospel: you can really see the wilderness in these stones and branches.’ And the funny thing is, they are both stark, and beautiful.
Wandering Alone
Today we hear about wandering in the wilderness of Egypt; as well as wandering in the wilderness of Holy Land--granted, both places have lots of areas which are flowing with milk and honey, or at least water and green plants; yet others are unending miles of rocks and desert. I learned to appreciate both when I was living in the Middle East. The desert wilderness, in which it is difficult to sustain life, tends to be empty of people. After a while, I realized that emptiness is a sojourn; the emptiness gives you a blank slate to start reflecting on the things that are going on in your mind and in your life. There’s a reason the desert fathers, the mystic monastics, and Jesus, head out to the wilderness for long periods of time; it’s a good place to get clarity.
Now, this could also seem to be a lonely time--and we usually start out the season of Lent with this gospel passage of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness. We might feel like we are expected to make Lent an extremely personal and lonely, somber journey. However, I’m going to recommend for this year, that perhaps we don’t think of it quite as such. After all, we are most easily tempted when we’re alone.
And Jesus was tempted out there, alone--separated from his family and friends, perhaps even feeling separated from God. He was just at that point of gaining real fame and notoriety in his social circles. People knew that he possessed some gifts and power, even if they didn’t quite understand it all. And, indeed, the temptations the devil presented him with are temptations to exploit that power.
We know every time we see the news that people in power are always succumbing to temptation to exploit power, to exploit others, to get wrapped up in one scandal or another. It seems almost inevitable. I think part of the reason is reflected in the saying, that it’s lonely at the top. When you are put on a pedestal, it’s easy to lose perspective; it’s easy to lose touch with the people who help keep you grounded. And then, it’s all too easy to fall off that pedestal, be put to shame and public ridicule, and have to figure out how to put your life back together again.
Wrestling With The Devil
Now, today is Health and Healing Sunday in the PCUSA--and I think there are so many things from which we need healing, that cause us to feel isolated and cut off from our circles of support, whether family and friends, or even feeling that we have been separated from God.
Yesterday at the presbytery gathering, we talked a little about the devil--and, how we don’t talk about the devil that much in Presbyterian circles. However, we know that sometimes people who struggle with addictions, or mental illness, find that the image of wrestling with the devil is very poignant for their lives. Other people may find it to be a good way to describe the shame they feel over something that happened in their lives a long time ago, whatever it might be. Perhaps what Paul has to say about shame in today’s epistle speaks to that experience. At any rate--these are all painfully isolating things in our lives, that lead us down a lonely journey. And other situations too come to mind--such as any illness that has us homebound, or even keeps us in bed a couple of weeks, or even the grief we feel over losing our loved ones, even long after it might seem the world expects us to have moved on.
There is one more thing that I’d like to say about the devil this morning, that seems to be a theme in scripture when he shows up--whether it’s in the Garden of Eden, or in the heavenly courts while considering the righteousness of Job, or here in this Gospel story. The devil is that one which brings all the questions: Not the good, constructive, wise kind of questions to ask, mind you. Instead, the devil seems to bring all those nagging, undermining questions inside your mind that never let you rest, never let you truly enjoy whatever is going on in your life, or being present in the moment. The things that you know you’d be better off not asking, or not even considering, but which can bring you extremely low, make you terribly insecure, and tempt you to do everything in your power to protect yourself against the perceived dangers--whether by exploiting others in your life, or exploiting your privilege, or manipulating people and situations to your advantage, or drowning everything out in the oblivion of destructive behavior.
Hope For Deliverance
So what would it mean, in the face of any one of these situations, to be delivered or healed?
I think, it’s not always in ways we expect. Sometimes, we want to be completely physically healed of our illnesses or disabilities, and medical science simply can’t do that for us. Sometimes, we wish painful memories could simply be erased from our psyches, but even the best psychologists or even strong pharmaceuticals, can’t do that for us.
Sometimes, the healing comes in the realization that we are more than whatever seems to be destroying us or consuming us at that point in our lives. That our lives have more meaning and value than whatever is afflicting us.
And we might realize that both because of our connections with one another, or that the realization allows us to find community with others and be at least healed of our loneliness and isolation. Support groups that meet to deal with particular kinds of illnesses, addictions, or other life situations recognize this, and many people find them helpful.
In some ways, you could even speak of church congregations as places where we join together at the end of one long week in our individual lives, to find re-connection with God and one another, in order to be renewed and equipped to get back out there for another week of our lives. How often do we find some kind of healing in scripture, or prayer, or in the words of a favorite hymn, or even afterwards in the coffee and a cookie and a chat with a friend? After all, it all matters.
And, how many people have found healing from life’s burdens by turning outward and helping others with their own difficulties, especially through volunteer service? How many of us have been transformed through mission trips or group projects or the opportunity even to build relationships, short or long-term, with people in very different life circumstances from our own? After all, we know that we may not be the greatest painter or house-builder on the planet, but we find ourselves transformed by the journey, and the traveling companions, and these very relationships, even as our presence gives encouragement to people facing such difficult challenges of their own.
Jesus took that time away in the desert. You could say he took the time to contend with his demons out there. Perhaps we all need a little time like that. But he didn’t let the isolation and temptation overpower him. He came back, and he used whatever gifts and power he had to help others, to bring healing to painful and broken lives. His disciples were healed of the things in their lives, and became helpers and healers to others. And the story goes on and on, even until today in our own congregations.
Our scriptures today speak of God being our refuge and strength, but what exactly does this do for us? What is our refuge and strength? I might say that this is whatever we find that does allow us to move out past our own isolation and fear, to re-connect with others, to get beyond our own difficulties so that we may even be a blessing to others through our own lives and the gifts which we have. Maybe when we envision it, it is like a rock to us. Maybe it is like a flowing river that gives us that life and growth back where we thought all was lost. Maybe it is simply that place into which we duck when we don’t know how else to cope with whatever it is life throws at us. But in all these things, we come back to God being our source of hope and comfort. We are not alone, because we are always in God’s presence. Who we are, and what we do, matters to God. After all, this is a God who answers the loneliness of death, with the community of Resurrection.
My hope for you today, and always, is that you would not languish in isolation--whether due to illness or injury, or even anger, or shame, but that in all things you would know that trust in God as our rock and refuge, and from that place of safety, step forward in loving hope, as disciples of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
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