The Power of No - Luke 4:1-13

I’ve been thinking all week about the word, “no.” It’s a small word with a long history in the Church. We usually associate “no” with rules - specifically what’s off limits for Christians. The apostle Paul liked to make long lists with fancy words like avarice and licentiousness. Today, depending on where you are in the Christian landscape, you might be told certain rules like no dancing (think Kevin Bacon and his overly strict pastor dad in Footloose). Or no drinking, instrumental music, statues and images, swearing, or premarital shenanigans. Come to think of it, there are several Christian no’s when it comes to relationships, depending on the denomination. Over the years, the Church has spent an enormous amount of time on the list of things we should not do. 

But that is only one small use of the word “no.” Rules, whether or not they are good ones, are just the introductory level of religion. Things get far more interesting from there, and more complicated. Every human heart is confronted by challenges that cause us to veer off track from ourselves, from one another, and from God. Each one of us can be swayed by destructive things. Sometimes this is clear and straightforward, and we know that we need to change course. At other times, we find ourselves enmeshed with things we once thought innocent or good that turned out not to be. When that happens, “no” becomes a word with a great deal of power in the life of faith, especially when it is used as a tool against true temptations. 

Every year at the beginning of Lent, we pray the Litany of Penitence on Ash Wednesday, which moves me deeply with its beauty and its honesty. In it, we confess a broad and truthful list of the spiritual temptations into which we fall. We confess the ways that we have not loved God very well, and how we have not been true to the mind of Christ. We confess our unfaithfulness, and the pride, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives, our self-indulgent appetites and ways, our mistreatment of others, our anger at our own frustration, our envy of others, our intemperate love of worldly goods and comforts, and the dishonesty of our daily life and work. We pray for our negligence in prayer and worship, and our failure to commend the faith that is in us. We ask God to accept our repentance for the wrongs we have done, for our blindness to human need and suffering, and our indifference to injustice and cruelty. For our false judgments, uncharitable thoughts toward our neighbors, our prejudice and contempt toward those who differ from us, for our waste of God’s creation, and our lack of concern for those who come after us. Finally, we ask God to restore us, and to accomplish in us the work of God’s salvation. I don’t think I have ever heard a more honest description of the temptations we fall into in the spiritual life, nor a more beautiful description of the hope we have to find our way again. 

The Litany of Penitence is a powerful reminder that we should ask ourselves, with some regularity, what we need to say “no” to, in the name of our faith (Will Willimon). In today’s Gospel, we find ourselves in the wilderness with Jesus, facing his own temptations. His decisively clear “no” is one we need to hear, to be reminded of our power to say “no” to the temptations in our own lives. 

The devil figure in the scene is far more clever than we usually give him credit for. The options he offers to Jesus might seem easy or obvious to reject - turning stones into bread, jumping off the temple roof to be caught by angels, and agreeing to bow down to the devil in exchange for worldly power. But like all true temptations, these are difficult because they are more ambiguous than simple. For example, imagine how many hungry people Jesus could feed if he turned all those desert stones into food. Imagine how many people could be brought to faith if they could see him saved from a disastrous fall. And imagine how much good Jesus could accomplish if he ruled the kingdoms of the world, having only to pay the small price of worshipping the devil. In an interesting side note, the scriptures casually mention that the devil has authority over the kingdoms of the world. The headlines over the past week would seem to agree. The world was troubled in Jesus’ time, as it is today. Jesus’ resounding “no” to pride, to power, to possessions, temptations faced by every one of us and world leaders alike, is a clear and powerful “no.” Over and over again throughout his ministry, Jesus modeled for us how to say no to temptation, while saying yes to sacrificial love and the way of the cross. 

Sometimes the word “no” is the most powerful word we have as followers of Jesus. Episcopalians are perhaps not as well known as other denominations for what we stand against, things like dancing or instrumental music or who can get married or ordained. But we have some very important no’s to say. At our best we say no to the temptations in the litany of penitence, to idolatry, to hardness of heart, and to a lack of concern for the least and the lost. When we fall into such things, today’s gospel calls us back. 

And, at times the Church loses its way, but it too can be called back by the power of a faithful no. When the state churches in Germany signed over their support of Hitler’s regime, theologian Karl Barth famously pounded his fist on the table and said no. I’m sure it sounded more impressive in the German with a loud “Nein!” This inspired a group of pastors to write a joint declaration (The Barmen Declaration) rejecting the cooptation of the church by an evil and earthly power, and the Confessing Church in Germany was born. It would continue to oppose totalitarianism and fascism for years to come. In the wilderness of temptation, there are times, thank God, when the Church has said no. 

Church life is often about our yeses in wonderful ways - how we can help one another, what programs we can offer, what we can to do to support those in crisis, as in Ukraine right now. Our yes can be powerful. But there are times when our no is needed, when we inevitably lose our way in the temptations, and when the idolatries of pride, power, or possessions get the best of us. So as we begin our Lenten journey, I invite you to consider the power of the word “no” for Christian discipleship. Because of your faith, what do you need to say no to? What temptations sneak into your life, even under the cover of something good or promising, and lead you astray from yourself, from others, or from God? The Gospel reminds us that those temptations are nothing compared to the sacrificial love and grace of Jesus. In him, we have the power to say no to anything less.