Sermon at the Sung Eucharist on the First Sunday of Lent 2017

We all know what temptation is, don’t we? It’s when you catch yourself reaching out for that third chocolate. Or when those shoes are 20% off so they’re a real bargain. Or when you see an easy way to make life uncomfortable for someone you don’t like. Life is full of such moments. Sometimes we resist, sometimes we don’t. But we all know the feeling.

Today we think about what are commonly referred to as the temptations of Jesus. But perhaps we should find a different term for what happens to Jesus in the wilderness. The story we have heard this morning is about something far more serious than whether we eat another chocolate. It is about nothing less than the salvation of the world.

Jesus faces the most massive test possible. He is asked to prove that he is up to the task that he has been born for. So perhaps we need to call this Jesus’ ‘training for ministry’. Or perhaps it is like the severe trials that machinery goes through in the manufacturing process, where it is tested almost to destruction to make sure it will not fail. What happens to Jesus is far removed from our own everyday experience. He has just been baptised in the river Jordan, and God’s Spirit has descended on him. He is ready to take up his mission. But what kind of mission will it be? What happens in the wilderness tries out the options and sets the agenda for the task that lies ahead. In the process it tests Jesus almost to destruction, perhaps a preparation for an even harder test to come.

Let’s look at what happens. The first test is whether Jesus will make bread from the stones lying around in the desert. We are told he has been fasting for 40 days, so he is hungry. But this is not about whether he will make himself some food. This is about whether he will take on the role of God himself. When the people of Israel were travelling through the wilderness centuries before, it was God who provided them with bread, the miraculous manna, which kept them alive. Jesus will have heard the story told over and over again. He knows that the creation of miraculous food is a sign of God’s presence. He knows he has God’s special blessing. He believes he can make bread from stones. What a way that would be to gain a following! How wonderful, to be able to give people free food. He knows how hard survival can be for the people amongst whom he has grown up. He could be a benevolent saviour. What could be wrong with that? But Jesus knows that it is wrong. It isn’t physical food that he has to give. It is not bread alone that matters, is his conclusion. The word of God matters too. Making bread is a distraction.

Then Jesus imagines himself on the very top of the temple in Jerusalem. It is the place that embodies the very essence of his faith. It is where religious power is concentrated. Perhaps he suspects that his mission will bring him into conflict with the rulers of the Jewish faith. He could show them, he thinks. If he jumps off, it is inconceivable that his heavenly father will not save him. He could float down, landing triumphantly in the courtyard, marching into the Holy of Holies, showing his divine authority. He could take over leadership of the faith, spread it throughout the world. It’s another noble cause – and another cause that is wrong. His mission is not about stunts. It is much slower, more earth-bound, less dramatic. It is about changing people’s hearts, not dazzling them with magic.

And finally – why not become an emperor? The Roman emperors have shown themselves to be far from perfect. Jesus would do the job so much better. Never mind the hard, slow job he suspects is ahead of him. The Jews have been promised a Messiah, an anointed one, and a king like David. But Jesus could be so much more. He could rule the world as a benevolent dictator, causing righteousness and justice to flourish everywhere. Yet he knows better. He knows that power corrupts, and worldly kingship is not the way for him.

Jesus has passed the test. He is ready for his ministry. It will be hard and more challenges will come. But Jesus’ ministry is firmly set on the right foundations.

Jesus refuses to make bread. But later he takes the loaves offered by a small boy and turns them into a feast for thousands. And later still he takes a loaf, breaks it, and says ‘this is my body’. The gift of bread comes more slowly, and at a much higher cost.

Jesus refuses to throw himself off the temple and be rescued. But later he makes his presence felt in the temple, clearing out those who cheat the poor and causing his own arrest. And when he needs rescue, he only finds it on the other side of death.

Jesus refuses to be king. But later he rides humbly into Jerusalem on a donkey and is proclaimed king by his people. His throne turns out to be a cross, and his crown is made of thorns. And his final kingdom encompasses not just the nations of the world, but the whole created universe.

Fortunately for us, Jesus passes the test. He refuses to take the easy road to success. He turns away from drama and demonstrations. Our salvation is won not by a magician, but by a saviour who knows what it is to be human, from birth to death; and who knows what it is to be hungry, who knows what it is to want admiration and power, and how to say no to all of them. Because he passed the test, it is all right that we so often fail. For us there is bread that is his body, there is rescue at our final test of death, and there is a place in a kingdom – for the ultimate test has already been passed for us by Jesus himself.