1st Sunday in Lent, Sermon by The Reverend Loree Reed

Deuteronomy 26: 1–11
Luke 4: 1–13
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.

This year, in our Gospel readings, we have been listening to Luke tell us and show us who Jesus Christ really is.  This is important.  It’s crucial — because his ministry will flow from the depths of his self–understanding.  So we saw Jesus’ humility on the day of his baptism when he bowed his head in prayer to the Father – even before he’d waded out of those waters.  We saw his consideration of Mary, his mother, when he turned the water into wine at the wedding in Cana.  And we heard him embrace Isaiah’s lowly vision of Messiah at his first sermon in Nazareth when he announced his intention to serve the poor, the outcast, the down–and–out.
But this morning we are seeing Jesus from one more point of view – and that’s from the point of view of the scriptures that formed him, the scriptures he’d learned at his mother’s knee, growing up in Nazareth.  And this point of view is so central to his understanding of who he really is that before he begins his ministry, Satan himself comes and tries to persuade him to disown and disavow it.
To help us see it our Old Testament reading today shows us the confession of faith every Jewish man, woman, boy and girl made at least twice a year as they came in thanksgiving before the Lord.  Look at that response in the reading from Deuteronomy in your bulletin this morning.  Each person – boy, girl, man or woman – was to confess four things:
First – my father was a wandering Aramean.  They are talking about Jacob, who at one point wandered around northern Syria.  What they are saying is that they come from a people totally vulnerable, totally at risk.

Second – they are to remember that they once were poor people, cheap labor in Egypt, working at less than minimum wage and totally exploited.  But God heard their cries and brought them out to begin a new life.

Third – God brought them out of this life of exploitation into a life of well–being, of abundance, where they could live in prosperity and safety all of their days.

And fourth – This history of risk, deliverance – and, finally, incredible abundance – is supposed to define their l ives forevermore.  So the gifts of the harvest they now offer to God are to be signs of their intention to live with and for this God for the rest of their days.
Sometimes we forget that Jesus grew up totally Jewish – that as a baby he was circumcised and dedicated to God in the Temple.  As a teenager he went regularly with his parents to Jerusalem on pilgrimage.  And in the years in between, at least twice a year, he confessed to belonging to a people of humble beginnings, deep vulnerability and profound gratefulness to the God who had promised never to forsake them.
So after Jesus’ baptism, when Satan tempts him after a long fast in the wilderness – it’s this confession of faith, this identity that Satan is trying to get him to betray.  “Why be vulnerable?” Satan asks Jesus.  “Why go hungry?  You know you can turn these rocks into bread if you choose to.  Just do it!”
But Jesus knows something else.  He knows it’s the Holy Spirit of God who called him to this fast in the first place.  And it’s to the Spirit of God he has to be faithful.  So he answers Satan out of the very same Book of Deuteronomy that first told him who he was.  Quoting from the eighth chapter of Deuteronomy, he answers Satan by saying, “It takes more than bread to really live.”
Next, the devil tries to tempt him with worldly glory.  In a flash he shows Jesus all the kingdoms of this world and tells him, “It’s all mine – all that glory, all that wealth – it’s mine to give to anyone I want to.  Just do homage to me and it will all be yours.”  But once again, Jesus knows a deeper truth.  Quoting from the sixth chapter of Deuteronomy he replies, “Scripture says we’re to do homage to God alone, and worship him with singleness of heart.”
Finally, either in a vision or in actual fact – we don’t really know which – Satan takes Jesus to Jerusalem and sets him on top of the Temple.  Then, quoting from Psalm 91, he reminds Jesus that his heavenly Father loves him so much he will send his angels to rescue him if Jesus will only jump off one of those high towers into thin air.
Now surely, by this time, Jesus was longing for comfort and safety.  Surely, by now, he was wishing that the whole test would soon be over.  But he also understands that risk is simply part of his life – just as it was for his ancestors in the faith.  So instead of replying out of a sense of the way he wishes things were, Jesus replies out of that deeper sense — the way he knows they are.  “It is written,” he says to Satan, quoting again from the sixth chapter of Deuteronomy, “Don”t you dare put God to the test.” And with that the Tempter finally retreats.
Now if Jesus had fallen for any of Satan’s tricks, if he had allowed Satan to distract him from his God–given identity, the world would hardly have blamed him.  Instead, the world would have applauded if he had done miracles to show his power or performed acts of daring just to show how much the Father cared for him.  But Jesus knew he’d been called in humble vulnerability to a life of risk – and all to the glory of God.  So he wasn’t about to accept Satan’s alternatives – no matter how plausible the Father of Lies made them sound.
Now you and I have not been called to a 40–day fast in the desert.  Nor have we learned confessions of faith drawn from the Book of Deuteronomy at our mothers’ knees.  But, deep down, we too know the Lord.  Deep down we too have a true self, a self that is called by the Holy Spirit of God to be the best person we can possibly be.  And though few of us, I think, could say in so many words who that best self really is, we know, somehow, when we are moving in the right direction – towards God and towards his calling.  And we know when we are being tempted to go in the wrong direction.  And we will resist that wrong direction mightily.
I think we have all seen the Holy Spirit of God inspiring courage, strength and determination in the Ukrainian people over the past ten days since Putin invaded their country.  Putin expected them to cave in immediately when he surrounded them with massive armaments and battalions of soldiers.  Putin expected them to cave in as soon as he began shooting them and bombing them, indiscriminately.
Instead, we’ve seen courageous young fathers getting their wives and children to safety on the borders of Poland, Hungary or Moldova – and then accepting the risk of going back to Ukraine to defend their homeland.  We have seen elderly people facing down Russian soldiers – sometimes soldiers in tanks – with nothing more than their words and their precious Ukrainian flags.  We’ve all been moved by the examples of gentle mothers who chose to stay in Ukraine with their children in underground bomb shelters, realizing they might be better able to protect them there than they would if they attempted the hazardous trip to some neighboring country.
When reporters ask them how they can do this, where they are finding such reserves of inspiration and courage – they say, “It is who we are.  We are Ukrainians. and we are strong.  We are Ukrainians, and we care deeply for our country.  We care deeply for one another.”
And that is not all you and I have seen.  We have seen the people of Hungary, Poland and Moldova, prompted by the Holy Spirit of God, rise up and provide hot meals and warm houses for wave after wave of these new refugees.  We have seen the whole free world rise up and send whatever military, financial or humanitarian aid they can.  For that is who they are too.  They are godly neighbors, and they care.
Last but not least, we ourselves have been down on our knees these past ten days, praying that God will preserve these brave people, praying that God will stop the evil that has risen up against them.  For that is who we are too.
Amen.
 
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