Luke 4.1-13 – Lent 1C - SVLC - February 21, 2010
Grace to you and peace from the Holy Trinity. AMEN.
Sisters and brothers in Christ, this is a perfect Gospel text for the Lenten
journey that is before us…because this story of Jesus in the wilderness,
being poked and prodded by the tempter, reminds us that Jesus always
goes before us and always, always is victorious. That Jesus is the one we
follow into the desert this Lenten season.
I actually had the opportunity to drive through the desert this week. And
I realized that we Southern Californians are at an advantage when it
comes to texts like this one because we know first hand something about
what the desert feels like. Hot, dry, both barren and beautiful, cold at
night, often windy--and when the clouds come, like they did yesterday,
and even better, when rains come, the desert becomes rich with color
and light and shadows. The desert is extreme--some of the very hottest
and the very coldest temperatures, some of the ugliest and some of the
most beautiful panoramas. The desert is the extreme handiwork of God.
I think the desert is just as much a character in these types of stories as
the characters themselves. I don’t think the story would be as powerful
if Jesus was tested instead on the lonely, lush prairies of Galilee or the
softer, gentler rolling hills outside of Jerusalem. Nobody there either and
that’s certainly wilderness too. But the desert. Brutal. God’s harsh and
extreme handiwork.
This Lenten season, we have the opportunity to turn from our own
temptations and follow Jesus--our Master teacher, our Savior--into that
same desert. Literally Pastor? Maybe, as Southern Californians. Take a
trip to the desert these forty days. But mostly I’m speaking figuratively.
This Lenten season we follow Jesus into a place where “stuff” is stripped
away, and because of that the environment becomes more extreme.
Think of how much “stuff” we have that we don’t need. Maybe we
convinced our selves that we needed it when we bought it, but we don’t
have to think for long to know that we don’t really need it. I’m talking
about material things in a material culture. I think in many ways we’ve
rationalized our way into this, that buying things for ourselves can
somehow help others, can boost our droopy economy. And this is true
to a certain extent. But it’s kind of a helping others in a rolling-hills kind
of way. It’s a softer, gentler way of reaching out. If I buy this for myself, I
will help others. Sisters and brothers in Christ, we are invited to follow
Jesus into the desert. What about helping others in a more desert-kind
of way? Not round-about, softer, gentler, less direct, sweeter, where we
send money or send a card. But a desert kind of way--extreme care,
hands on self-sacrificial care, the kind of care that hurts as we pour out
love and time and compassion for our neighbor. If we are tempted to
buy that new shirt, and then we convince ourselves to do it because in a
way we will be “helping” a child or a young woman in Cambodia, giving
her work, or supporting the livelihood of a family man at the executive
headquarters of shirt-making company here in the U.S. What if this Lent
we “go to the desert” instead; we help in them in a more desert kind of
way? [pause] So we pass on buying the shirt (or the car or the gadget or
the whatever) and instead we go online and find out how to make
contact with programs that support the health and well-being of children
in Southeast Asia, or we get a little pen pal in Cambodia. It’s not about
money, it’s about connection and re-connection. (speaking of pen pals
across the generations and across the globe, anybody ever seen About
Schmidt? Great Lenten flick about journey and transformation.) We
follow Jesus and in so doing, we have the invitation reach out in a more
desert kind of way this Lent. And don’t stop at this attempt to reach out
to sisters and brothers across the globe. Bring it home! Reach out to
that executive family man too. (know what I’m saying?)
Again pass on buying the shirt, the “stuff” and instead find that executive
family man who works around the clock at the corporate headquarters.
Offer to take him out to dinner. Ask him about his family. If he’s a
workaholic, pray for him to see what’s most important and to spend
more quality time with his wife and kids. Maybe he’s living two houses
down from you. Maybe he’s your cousin. Maybe he’s they guy you see
every morning at Starbucks. Maybe he’s you.
Make the deeper connection or re-connection this Lent. Stimulate the
economy of grace and compassion in this world, in this country, that I
would venture to say is far worse off emotionally and spiritually than
financially…and that’s saying a lot, right? But economic prosperity is not
going to fix our hearts and souls.
Which leads me to my final point. So far I feel like I’ve kind of been
giving you a lecture about what you should do this Lent. (Please know
that I’m giving myself a lecture for I was actually doing a little shopping
myself this week. I didn’t tell you what happened in the desert. I found
an outlet mall there.) But I sort of feel like I’ve just been telling us what
we should be doing.
But the whole reason for this offer to live and love in a desert-sort-ofway is because that’s how Jesus lives and loves us first. So we have the
opportunity to respond in a desert sort of way. Jesus first goes the
desert, before us, before the world. Jesus first goes to the desert, not
the soft gentle hills or the luscious prairies, Jesus goes direct and harsh,
extreme. And the experience there is direct and harsh and extreme.
That’s how Jesus’ love works. He doesn’t gently in a round-about way
forgive our sins, forgiving us by forgiving someone else and so
forgiveness and grace will sort of trickle-down to us, so that we get a sort
“cut” of the grace and the love of God. No middle man in God’s
economy of grace and peace. It’s grace TO YOU DIRECTLY; it’s peace TO
YOU DIRECTLY. Jesus goes extreme--the desert-kind of forgiveness.
Direct, “in your face devil!” That kind of love is what’s first poured out
for us. Extreme direct, harsh, both beautiful and challenging love. That’s
desert love. And only desert love has the power to turn us around this
season, to turn us away from whatever is drawing us away from deeper
connections and re-connections. That desert love accompanies you now
through the week, through the journey of Lent and into eternity. Thanks
be to God. AMEN.