Matthew 4:1-11, First Sunday of Lent

Magnets are fascinating objects. The natural ones (like magnetite) have electrons spinning about all in the same direction, giving rise to force fields that either attract or repel other objects. We even give labels such as “poles” (north or south) to explain that like poles repel while opposite poles attract.

The Gospel story of the temptation in the desert is about the power of three magnets in our lives. Only three magnetic forces are worth our worry; the rest of the temptations are just variations of these three.

Turning stone into bread is about the magnetic pull of wealth or comfort or security. Daring to fall and be caught is the lure of pride. And owning kingdoms in this world is the intoxicating pull of power. Wealth, pride, power. These three temptations spin about our lives in concert. Not even Jesus was spared their enticement.

Their ultimate seduction is that snare of the serpent in the garden of Eden: you will be like God. In the Gospel, two of the temptations are prefaced with a dare: “if you are the Son of God”. It is the same preface the tempter uses later again in the wilderness of Calvary. If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross and let your angels catch you. It is the same condition we sometimes throw at God in moments of despair: If you are God, if you are a God of love, take this cup of suffering away from me.

These temptations to wealth or pride or power pull us away from our humanity. The hard truth is we cannot turn stone to bread; we cannot defy gravity; we do not and cannot own empires of anything at all.

The Gospel then is an invitation to accept and appreciate and be patient with our humanity. In a word, humility. We are invited to be real and true to ourselves. We are to resist the lie that tells us we are limitless. We are not gods. How can we be when our lives are messy and broken. How can we be when we trip and fall and let each other down every so often.

And yet it is our humanity that draws God to us, like magnetic pole to opposite pole. We do not need to be godlike for God to come near us.

And when God draws close to us, hope becomes possible. Faith and love too. When God is with us, and we with God, the unimaginable happens. In a word, transcendence.

And so in this quarantine time of Lent, we will not isolate or separate ourselves from who we are. We will not lie to ourselves and pretend to be who we are not. We will resist the addictive pulls of wealth and pride and power that make us forget who we truly are. 

There are reminders all around us.

Every evening that is sprinkled by even a few stars is a reminder of our true size and place. We are not the center of the universe.

Every fallen leaf is a reminder of our true lifetime. We do not need a cemetery to remind us that we are dust and to dust we shall return.

Every child or elderly person out on our streets is a reminder of our vulnerability. We need not be charged to confess our complicity.

Every act of kindness or mercy we offer is a reminder of our true dignity. In this finite and fallen world, every love we are willing to bear is a reminder of our true power.