“The Demanding Life of Love”
Matthew 4:1-11
Allen Huff
Jonesborough Presbyterian Church
3/9/14
It may seem strange to us – the Spirit deliberately leading
Jesus into the wilderness to face the wily enticements of Cruella DeVil. It's not the kind of thing we expect from a
parent figure, is it? Indeed, our
culture expects the opposite – that a loving parent will protect his or her
children from all manner of harm. Many
parents work hard to protect their children from temptation itself. And while a certain degree of that may be
warranted, over-protection can be an even bigger problem.
When well-meaning parents try to protect their children
from everything, usually they are
really trying to protect their own reputations, an idealized self-image. Sheltering a child for selfish reasons can
become a mild form of child abuse.
Though for all its love-languaged mildness, it does its damage. Over-protected children tend to become adults
who are bedeviled with a neurotic sense of entitlement. Excess and preferential treatment become
their birthright. When that’s our truth,
we tend to want, expect, and even proclaim a
Jesus who will give us what Jesus himself refuses in his temptation.
The story of Jesus’ temptation is a coming-of-age story,
the story of the painful but redeeming vocational initiation of a man blessed
with a unique capacity for bold love and healing compassion. In this story he faces his call to live with
and for all creation by living in solidarity with the poor, and with neighbors,
strangers, and enemies alike. Through
his own blood, sweat, tears, and laughter, this beloved child of peasants – one
far-removed from power and privilege – pioneers an alternative future for all
creation. This new future dares Rome to
face the ultimate futility of her worldly wealth and muscle.
To live according to the demands of agape, or what we might call Vocational
Love, is to live vulnerably in a dangerous world. This capital-L Love inevitably puts the one
who loves at odds with power. So, in a
very direct way, the story of the temptation of Jesus is like the dawn of Good
Friday itself, because to defy the devil is to defy Caesar – and not Caesar the
Man, of course, but Caesar the Archetype, the Institution. In whatever
form he takes, in whatever context, ancient or modern, Caesar cannot tolerate
opposition. He cannot abide defiant,
unprejudiced Love.
Jesus commits to announcing, inhabiting, and welcoming
others into his new future by living a new way of life, even if it kills
him. His new life begins with a
depleting and cleansing fast. So when
facing the specific temptations, Jesus is already vulnerable and weak.
“If you are the Son of God,” challenges the tempter,
“command these stones to become loaves of bread.”
The first temptation a starving Jesus faces is to allow in
himself a sense of entitlement – the entitlement not to feel want or
need. He is tempted to tell himself, “I
AM God's beloved Son! I shouldn’t have
to feel the squeeze of scarcity or dependence on another. I deserve to have all I want and
more!”
What Jesus faces isn't really about food. It's about the temptation to feel as if he
does not need to bear the inconvenient demands of relationship with God, with
other people, and with the earth itself.
Such relationships necessarily involve vulnerability. Relationships require us to face our need for
the nourishing bread of wholeness, something which is impossible to create,
purchase, or conquer on our own.
The bread of wholeness is recognizable and available to us
only when we enter the struggle of mutual relationships. Relational give-and-take defines and develops
our strengths, but it also exposes our failings and weaknesses. It exposes us to the same imperfections in
others, as well. And without that
blessed vulnerability, we cannot truly love and be loved. We cannot forgive and be forgiven. We cannot feed and be fed.
So, the first temptation is the temptation to avoid the
demanding life of Love.
“If you are the Son of God,” says the devil, reaching
deeper into his bag of tricks, “throw yourself down…” and let God’s angels take
care of you – in front of all Jerusalem.
The second temptation, to leap from the top of the temple
in Jerusalem and land unharmed in the hands of angels, is a temptation that
human cultures turn into a kind of lusted-for ideal. It is the deep-seated desire to turn our
whole lives over to ego, to create an outward persona based on the shiny veneer
of celebrity. In a world starving for
the bread of wholeness, why do we turn over and over to celebrities for images
of what we should be, and do, and have, and look like? When feeding selfish, celebrity appetites,
one can never get enough. That is the
tragedy of addiction: You can never, ever get enough of that which is not good
for you.
More and more, Facebook has become a kind of temple pinnacle,
a platform for one self-referential leap after another. It’s a competitive and all-consuming quest
for attention and importance. And I’m
not claiming the high ground here. To
get a bunch of ego-stroking “Likes” on something I post becomes a kind of drug. I like to feel that buzz, too. But by the grace of God, this passage reminds
us that when fixated on the one-dimensional self we like to project, we lose
sight of the real and eternal wholeness within and around us. And when lost and blind, our capacity to love
as we are loved by God deteriorates like a muscle that never gets used.
So, the second temptation is the temptation to avoid the
demanding life of Love.
“Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and
showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor; and he said to
him, ‘All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.’”
The third temptation is the temptation to hold power, and
not just in the world, but over the
world. It is the temptation not only to get one’s way, but to force one’s will on others. Unchecked, this appetite leads to the
institutionalizing of a power, a morality, and a status quo that benefits only
a specific few. No institution is immune
from such Love-less arrogance – not the Church, not democracy, certainly not
the corporations piling up money in investment accounts. An individual family can even become a
dynasty that consumes more resources and wields more influence than some
nations can afford.
Institutions that refuse to think critically of themselves
will resist transformation, and they inevitably become parasites,
life-diminishing organisms that exist only for themselves. Such creatures thrive on our worship of the devilish deities of power.
Remember, the dominion God grants to humankind is not the
dominion of unconditional control. It is
the dominion of Love, Love made known in and through servant-hearted
stewardship of self, neighbor, enemy and earth.
So, the third temptation is the temptation to avoid the
demanding life of Love.
All temptation boils down to the temptation to abandon
Love, or at least to try to mitigate its demands. But Love defies defiance.
Lent began last Wednesday.
And while the journey leads us to Sunday, we must pass through Friday,
the day which bears witness to the defiant triumph of Love. Love triumphs not because an angry, spiteful
god kills Jesus instead of us. That’s
not reconciling Love. That’s just
retaliation. Love triumphs and saves
because the cross and the life that leads to it reveal, once and for all, the
impotence of violent un-Love.
Still, brutality, greed, and fear are ever-so
tempting. They look powerful and
decisive. But they are not only
destructive, they're just too blamed easy, too self-aggrandizing. Caesar has populated the world with swords
and guns, coliseums and casinos, crosses and death chambers, but all of these
will fail. In the end, as at the
beginning, and in every blessed, hard-wrought Kingdom moment along the way,
Love Wins.1
As we gather at this table, the living Christ meets us here
to feed us with the staples of his intrepid, resurrecting Love. As the elements are passed, I challenge you
to receive and offer not just a tray of something edible. Offer Love.
Look your neighbor in the eye and say, “The Love of Christ given to you,
that it may be shared through you.” Or
say whatever comes naturally to you.
Regardless of the words you use, give and receive the demanding and
transforming Love of Christ.
1A few years ago, pastor and author Rob Bell
wrote a book entitled Love Wins. Though I have not read the book and do
not quote anything from the text of the book, I do acknowledge that the phrase
“Love Wins” belongs to Mr. Bell.
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