Sermon - Lent 1 - 2/21/10

1st Sunday in Lent – Year C
March 8, 1992
Luke 4:1-13

God Doesn't Leave when Trouble Comes

One of the campus ministry groups with which I meet each week is the Pre-Seminary group. We have seven regular participants, with another four who are sort of interested. With this group, we discuss some of the finer points of theology.

Two weeks ago I hit them with a pretty tough read. It is an article I keep coming back to, particularly as I enter the Lenten journey and discuss what it is all about. The article addressed the popularity of a particular what of thinking about salvation; the growing numbers of Christians who are very comfortable with predestination. Following the acronym “TULIP,” this approach emphasizes the Total depravity; Unconditional election; Limited atonement; Irresistible grace; Perseverance of the saints. My reason for sharing the article with the pre-sem group was both to educate them, but also to test out whether the paper tiger constructed in this article really does exist. I think we found that it does.

This is a complicated theological system and I don’t mean to reduce it to an easy target, but it seems to exposes be yet another indication that there are many in the Christian community who think that so long as you are one of the saved, everything is going to be just fine, that good always triumphs, and that inner strength and conviction will forever win the day.

The Gospel seems to expose a differing way of looking at the world. It challenges our assumptions about life being simple, of life as a bowl full of cherries. Sometimes the progress of a pilgrim looks more like Dante's Inferno than a trip to Disney World.

TULIP suggests that there are many who simply do not want to be reminded of the pain and ambiguity which life represents. The Gospel exposes a different way of thinking. In the story of Jesus’ temptation seems to be saying that things have not been determined from all eternity.

In writing of Jesus’ experience in the wilderness, Mark precedes the description of what is about to happen with two very clear reminders of how it happens. Luke 4, verse 1 begins: Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness. Jesus is "full" of the Spirit; Jesus is "led" by the Spirit. What is about to happen to him is not the result of God's absence; it is the direct result of God's presence.

Led by the Spirit, the Ac¬cuser comes to visit and sets before Jesus options which may prove more appealing, simpler, or easier to understand than the path desired by God. The Accuser encourages Jesus to ignore the complexities and reduce his role in salvation history to some¬thing that could be replayed as a ten second sound bite.

The temptation begins, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread." Scripture tells us that Jesus was a person of compassion. He heals the sick and binds up the broken. How much of their suffering was the direct result of need? Had the basic necessities of life been available to them, many if not most of their illnesses would have been avoid¬ed. "Command this stone to become a loaf of bread," is more than a temptation for Jesus to satisfy his own hunger. It sets before him the opportunity to eliminate human suffering.

Some of those who call upon the name of Christ would have us believe that Jesus did change the stone into bread. They are the ones who claim that as a result of their faith they have never experienced want or need. They are the ones who tell us that if we give our life to Christ all we could ever want will come our way. They are the ones who celebrate an “Unconditional election.”

Luke's gospel calls a halt to such ways of thinking. Jesus doesn't do it. Jesus understood his mission to be something different. He was not going to eliminate our need or want. He was going to reveal to us the path of faith. Regardless of the claims made by some, Jesus does not take away all our need. He joins us in it. He does not change the stone to bread in order to satisfy our hunger, nor his own.

The next stop on the Tempter's tour is a vantage point from which one sees all the kingdoms of the world. Forget for a mo¬ment the question of ownership, whether these are indeed in the possession of Tempter. The temptation which is set before Jesus is to establish a new world order; to eliminate corrupt governments, to make the kingdom of God synonymous with the kingdoms of this world.

There are expressions of the faith which still see this as their goal. They live out their lives in obedience to the notion that Jesus accepted this temptation and that we are to work to bring it to completion. They want the mission of the Church to be defined as the process of making all persons comply with the wishes of the Church. You see this mind set at work each time someone juxtaposes the Word of God with some piece of legislation. It comes into play whenever someone tries to reduce Jesus' conversation about the kingdom of God into a political agenda or endorsement for some charismatic leader.

It would be a wonderful world if everyone did obey and see themselves as citizens of God's kingdom. But Luke reminds us that Jesus said "No!" He did not agree. As a result we will never live in God's kingdom on earth. Ours is an imperfect world and always will be.

Maybe the Tempter hoped to play upon Jesus' strength of conviction, for the last temptation comes almost as a dare. "Since you are so high and mighty," the Accuser seems to say, “throw yourself down from the pinnacle of the temple. Prove that you are the one sent by God, the one whose Word reveals the way to salvation." Of all the temptations set before Jesus, this is the one that would have done the most to make our job easier. Jesus is being offered the chance to prove that all the things he says are indeed true.

What a missed opportunity. Jesus performs so many other miracles, why won't he do the one that would prove he is who we believe him to be? All it would take would be a little show of power. A simple demonstration that God would protect him and never let any evil come his way. But again Jesus says, "No!" He doesn't do it. And we who call upon his name are forever left with the impossible job of explaining why we believe.

I don't know why Jesus doesn't meet our every need, establish his kingdom, or prove his truth. It would be simpler; it would be easier if only God would. But to each of these tempta-tions Jesus says "No!" And we are left with a call to faith, call to trust that in the midst of our ambiguity, in the midst of our continual pain and suffering, God's will is being done, God's purpose is making itself known.

I also long for the simplicity of tabloid headlines. I wish faith meant no harm would ever come my way. But life is more often like Dante's Inferno than a trip to Disney World. Jesus could have made it simpler or easier but he didn't. As a result, I am left with the complexity and the ambiguity. I don't know why God chose to do things in this way, but I realize how wrong it would be to pretend that God did things differently.

During our forty days of Lent, we will wrestle with the way of the cross. We will struggle to understand why this is the way of God. But we will refuse to ignore or close our eyes to the witness of scripture. Ten second sound bites don't cut it. The way of faith is a life-long pursuit.

Amen.