The Voice That Says You Are

I wonder what your temptation of choice is? For my cats it is their morning treats. For me it is Cadbury’s chocolate. The word ‘temptation’ is used a lot in marketing, including for those two products, and there are many more. It has come to be synonymous with indulgence, a word that lures us in and promises something delectable.

In our gospel reading the temptation is that of power. The devil tries to get Jesus to grasp after authority, power, control and wealth, all things that most of us find difficult to reject.

It is still the beginning of Jesus’ ministry - in Matthew’s gospel this passage follows on immediately after Jesus has been baptised. He has just been through that affirming experience of hearing the voice from heaven declare him the beloved son, and then the next thing he knows he has been led into the wilderness, by the Spirit, in order to face temptation while he is hungry and vulnerable. This is where the first Sunday in Lent takes us, into the desert to face our temptations. So I wonder what your temptation is?

The word that keeps coming up with each new thing offered to Jesus is ‘if’. Perhaps the greatest temptation here is the urge to try and prove one’s worth. The devil tries to get Jesus to validate himself by demonstrating his divinity. He tries to push Jesus to give in by implying that maybe he’s not as great as he’s made out to be. ‘If you are really the son of God…’ If you are worthy, prove it. If you are loved, demonstrate it.

I wonder how this translates for us. How often do we live inside that ‘if’? Where might we feel the urge to prove ourselves, when all it accomplishes is a flaunting of power that benefits no one but ourselves? When do we think we need to demonstrate control or authority, when what we really need is rest in the knowledge of our identity as God’s children?

Each temptation that the devil puts before Jesus offers him a shortcut. A way to bypass trust. A way to grasp instead of receive. But Jesus refuses to validate himself, instead rooting himself in scripture and obedience. And in doing so, he does something extraordinary. He begins the renewal of humanity. We’ve recently been introducing our 2 year old to Disney movies, and one of the latest watches was Beauty and the Beast. In that movie, the only thing that can break the curse is love — not sentimental love, but transforming love. A love that calls the Beast out of the selfishness that has guided his previous decisions. A love that asks him to turn away from temptations of power and control, and to let go instead, to make himself vulnerable. The beast goes through his own wilderness, and learns that the temptations of wealth and power turn out to be hollow. Finally, when he chooses selfless love over possession, the curse breaks and he is restored once again, able to live into the best version of who he can be. It is a story of renewal.

In our reading from Romans Paul also talks about renewal. He explains that just as sin came into the world through one man, so grace also now abounds through one man — Jesus Christ. The old story begins to be rewritten by a new story, and that rewriting begins in the wilderness. This encounter of temptation is a story of a new beginning.

As Paul says, where sin once reigned, grace now abounds through Jesus Christ. That is why Lent is not a religious version of a January reset. It is not about proving how disciplined we can be. Instead it’s about allowing Christ to see all of our vulnerability and restore us into the fullness of who we were created to be.

The temptation remains to try and be holy by ourselves. We want to prove our abilities, and it’s all too easy to listen to the whisper that questions, “If you are…?” But God has already said, “You are.” That is the difference. Temptations aren’t always dramatic. Often they are subtle. The temptation to control a situation rather than trust. The temptation to protect our image rather than tell the truth. The temptation to grasp for recognition rather than quietly serve.

But Jesus does not need to prove his belovedness. He simply rests in it. Perhaps renewal begins for us in the same way — not by trying harder, but by listening again for the voice that calls us beloved. So we fast not because food is bad, but because we are learning what truly feeds us. We pray not because God is absent, but because we are relearning trust. We give not because we have extra, but because generosity loosens our grip. I like that in today’s collect it assumes that temptation is not unusual. Instead it acknowledges that we face many of them, that temptation is simply part of being human. The reminder is that God knows our weaknesses already, so there is no need to hide them from either God or ourselves. So Lent simply becomes the season where we are able to stop pretending. If nothing else, there is something very restful about that!

So what is your temptation? It’s the question this season puts before us, inviting reflection at a deeper level than cat treats or chocolate. Are you willing to loosen your grip and lay your temptation down, and to instead embrace renewal? That is what is offered here in our wilderness time. It may feel like forty long days. It may feel uncomfortable to face the places where we rely on control, or image, or power. But God is in the business of restoring what has been distorted, and guiding us to become the most Christ-like versions of ourselves that we can be. We may not be transformed from Beast to prince, but we can be remade as we hold onto our identity in God.

So this Lent, may we loosen our grip, rest in the truth that we are already beloved, trust the voice that says “You are,” and let that be the beginning of our renewal. Amen.

Romans 5:12-19; Matthew 4:1-11