For hundreds of years in the Episcopal Church, the Gospel at the beginning of Lent has been the one we read again this year: immediately after his baptism, Jesus is led by the Spirit into the wilderness where he is tempted.
Here, at the very beginning of his ministry, when tempted, Jesus’ choice was to not use special powers, or rather his own special position with God, to overcome. His choice was rather to put his whole trust in God, come what may to be clay in the hands of the Potter. And thankfully so, for the imitation of Christ to which we are called would be not just pointless but futile if Jesus had resisted these all-too-human temptations by use of anything other than naked trust in God.
God Pause, a website of daily Scripture readings published by Luther Seminary, said that “Beyond bread, the devil offers Jesus the kingdoms of the earth and safety from free-fall.” This Lent my mind has returned again and again to the temptation of “safety from free fall” in our lives. You know those dreadful times when the foundations shake: the moments before surgery, the shattering of a dream or a relationship, the months after the death of a beloved person in our lives, awaiting the result of medical tests, or waiting for a trial. Can we find in Our Lord’s life an example for us in these terrible times? I think so. For at our baptism, we are asked “Do you put your whole trust in God’s grace and love?” The answer is short, but not easy: “I do.”
In the desert, Jesus resisted and repulsed all the devil’s temptations and we at the end, are told that the devil then left him until a more opportune time. Now we know that the “opportune time” was when Jesus was in extremis, alone in the Garden of Gethsemane, alone before Pilate, alone on the cross. He was again in the desert and again tempted to use his position to avoid both suffering and death. It was clear in the Garden that he would rather not go through with this. “Nevertheless” he said “Not my will but yours be done.” He had come to the moment of free-fall and embraced it. Instead of resistance, he surrendered, instead of hatred, he loved, instead of recriminations, he forgave. And then he died, free falling into the hands of God.
Therefore, on the night before the Resurrection, as the new fire is kindled and the Pascal candle is blessed and brought into the darkened church, we sing:
This is the night, when when you brought our fathers, the children of Israel, out of bondage in Egypt, and led them through the Red Sea on dry land.
This is the night when all who believe in Christ are delivered from the gloom of sin, and are restored to grace and holiness of life.
This is the night when Christ broke the bonds of death and hell, and rose victorious from the grave.
How wonderful and beyond our knowing, O God, is your mercy and loving-kindness to us, that to redeem a slave, you gave a Son.
..May (this light) shine continually to drive away all darkness. May Christ the Morning Star who knows no setting, find us ever burning - he who gives light to all creation, and who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.
Louise Buck
March 2013
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