The Lies We Tell Ourselves - Luke 4:1-13

On Ash Wednesday, Kate reminded us of the importance of self-reflection during Lent. She said it’s a time for us to map out our hearts. Today, on this first Sunday of Lent, our scriptures invite us to take the first step in this “heart-mapping” by investigating our various temptations. For some, this may be one of the darker corners of our hearts that we don’t care to examine very often. I am firmly in this camp. So perhaps, as a start, we’ll look at the temptation of Jesus, first.

Matthew, Mark, and Luke each tell this story in their own, distinct way. In Luke’s version, the Spirit leads Jesus into the wilderness after he is baptized, and he has nothing to eat or drink for 40 days. We’re told he is famished. During these 40 days, the devil tempts Jesus three times. First, he suggests that Jesus turn rocks into bread to satisfy his hunger, and Jesus’ response is one for the books: “it is written, one does not live by bread alone.”

Next, the devil offers him power over all the kingdoms of the world, if only Jesus will worship him. Jesus responds with another classic: “It is written, worship the Lord your God and serve only him.” Finally, the devil tempts Jesus to prove his divinity to the world by jumping from the temple and letting God save him. Here, Jesus offers his final quip of the day: “it is said, do not put the Lord your God to the test.”

At first glance, the devil’s methods for tempting Jesus seem shrewd. By suggesting bread from rocks, he tempts Jesus with ease in a world full of tumult. By offering the kingdoms of the world, he tempts Jesus, a poor and disenfranchised Jewish man with unfathomable power. By proposing jumping from the temple, he tempts Jesus with proving God’s power without having to die. On a good day, any one of these temptations could win me over, let alone after 40 days in the wilderness.

But as is usually the case with Jesus, there is more to the story than meets the eye. And as usual, the messiest part is right in the middle. The devil’s second temptation is the most complex. It goes like this. "Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, ‘To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.’”

The most striking part of this temptation is the devil’s claim that the glory of the world and authority over it has been given over to him. Is it possible that our God, loving creator of the heavens and the earth, would give over their glory and authority to anyone, least of all the devil? Most assuredly not. We seem to have caught the devil in one of his many tricks. There is another level to this temptation. The tempter invites Jesus, and us, to believe that he has authority over the world and can give it to us if we submit. The temptation is not just to accept this flashy offer, but to believe that the tempter has something to offer in the first place. The temptation is to believe the lie.

I will tell you that a temptation of mine is to use this sermon to expose all the lying tempters in our world from politicians to preachers. But you don’t actually need my help with that. Each of you, like Jesus in the wilderness, is perfectly capable of spotting a snake oil salesman when you see one. No, the most dangerous lies, the ones we fall prey to again and again in this life, are the ones we tell ourselves.

We are tempted by the offer of the kingdoms of the world all the time. Vote for me and I’ll guarantee safety in your community. Buy this face cream or this natural smoothie and you will simply stop aging. Read this book and adopt this method and your struggle with self-discipline will disappear. We know these are false promises. But we buy in anyway. We lie to ourselves that these alternatives to faith can, in fact, save us from trial and tribulation.

The true path to safety and thriving in the world is through prayer and worship and living in community in the image of Christ, which takes hard work. And at the end of a long day where the world got the best of us and we weren’t our best selves, it can be much easier to make an impassioned post on social media or swipe a credit card for a little treat, than to spend a few minutes alone with God.

Over the past few weeks, as I have begun to integrate my grief over the loss of my father into my daily life, one lie I have told myself is that efficient task management will ease my pain, even make it go away. The deceit is revealed in myriad ways, not least of which is the simple fact that grief and efficiency don’t mix well. But bringing my grief to God is an intimidating proposition. It means sitting in the fullness of my pain.

I know that with time my grief will ease. I wish it would hurry up, but it’s impossible to rush the work of resurrection in the world. The Good News is that we can’t stop it either. The Holy Spirit will break in to shower us with grace and forgiveness, security and ease, all in the most unexpected ways. And Lent is the perfect opportunity to practice tuning out the temptation to look elsewhere, and instead to prepare our hearts to receive the grace of God.

Our task as people of faith is not to select the correct tempters that offer us the best kingdoms. Our task is to remember that tempters, including ourselves, are deceitful. Because God has not given over glory and authority to any person, any product, any religious denomination, any political party, any nonprofit, any way of life other than the way of the cross. It’s a hard way, but only there will we find the path to true security and health and ease. Searching for them elsewhere is like trying to live on bread alone. Amen.