Scripture: Mark 1: 9-13
(9) In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the
Jordan. (10) And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart
and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. (11) And a voice came from heaven, "You
are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." (12) And the Spirit immediately
drove him out into the wilderness. (13) He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by
Satan; and he was with the beasts; and the angels waited on him. - Mark 1: 9-13
We have begun the season of Lent, a journey of forty days of self-examination,
contemplation and spiritual renewal. Wherever we are on our own journey, the church has
always taught that in this season we are to prepare to meet God from our own places of
need in a special disciplined way through a rededication to prayer, meditation, fasting,
study and service. In Lent we enter into the barren places of our lives - the places of
spiritual wilderness during these 40 days, fixing our eyes on the cross and allowing its
shadow to fall upon us. The cross represents the inevitable consequence of Jesus' daily
choice to follow the God of love and to live out that love in all that he did, healed,
confronted, taught and proclaimed - even into the heart of the world's evil and our own.
That shadow now falls upon us, both judging us and beckoning us to see that even in the
worst that we do, there is cause for hope.
Traditionally, the first Sunday of Lent begins with the account of the baptism of Jesus
followed by his temptation in the wilderness. The temptation stories foreshadow the
struggles Jesus will have within his own soul as he is arrested, flogged and put to death
on a lonely hill.
Today, the temptation story is from the Gospel of Mark. Mark is characteristically
brief when compared to the other Gospels. Luke and Matthew offer rich descriptions of
Jesus' baptism and go into considerable detail about the specific temptations that Jesus
encountered: turning stones to bread, being placed at the pinnacle of the temple, and
being offered all the kingdoms of the world. Mark, on the other hand, is short and to the
point. Jesus comes from Nazareth to the Jordan River. He's baptized. The Spirit descends.
And immediately Jesus is driven by the Spirit to the wilderness. He's tempted by Satan.
The angels wait on him. The details are left to the imagination of our hearts.
When I think of urgency and immediacy, I remember my own family of origin. Everything
my parents did was immediate and urgent. The joke was that my father and mother always
leaned into the wind even when there was no wind. They created their own wind: working
hard at this, working hard at that, rising early in the morning and working until past
sundown. They'd fall asleep in front of the television in the evening, or go to a church
meeting, and then start the day over again the next morning seven days a week.
I grew up in their footsteps. Even today I'm drawn to their way of living. When someone
asks me, "Can you chair this?" I immediately say "Yes!" When someone
has an idea I say, "Let's make it happen." I live for the creative and the new.
I love to bite off one more morsel of life's smorgasbord. I love to change what is into
what could be. And like my parents, except when I'm on vacation, I find it very hard to
sit still. I pack every moment of the day with activity and commitments.
I was born wound up and have great difficulty just being. Maybe you know the feeling.
You race through work or your half dozen voluntary commitments plus your obligations to
family and friends. You finally make it home, but the treadmill is still going. You pick
up the remote control, flip through eighty channels and not one holds your attention for
more than a few seconds. When you're not working, doing, or fulfilling some
responsibility, you feel fidgety and anxious. When the pace of life slows down, if only
for a moment, there is an emptiness and a vacuum that cries out for something to fill it.
"The Spirit immediately drove Jesus out into the wilderness. He was in the
wilderness forty days tempted by Satan" (Mark 1:12-13).
There are a dozen ways people fill up the empty places in our lives with noise,
clutter, things and quick fixes to stave off the silence and emptiness of our driven
lives. Some go shopping, some crank up the noise of the television or the radio, some stay
longer at work, some eat chocolate, some drink alcohol, some do dope and some look for a
younger mate who will promise to stave off mortality.
The empty wilderness is a frightening place. The wind blows hard and dry. The sun bakes
down. The wild animals howl. In the emptiness of the barrens the demons come out:
the demon of resentment when years of racial slights and exclusion have made the heart
grow bitter.
the demon of despair when a relationship has ended without hope of reconciliation.
the demon of control that falsely assumes we are in charge of our own destiny;
the demon of unexpressed grief that shuts off new life;
the demon of fear of failure that paralyzes decision-making;
the demon of fear of success that suppresses the goodness of our gifts.
The human psyche prefers to avoid these demons, so we fill our lives with clutter,
noise and busyness - anything to escape dealing with these lurking demons.
What is so powerful about this ancient story is that the Spirit actually drives Jesus
to confront these demons. The full force of the wind - the breath, the Spirit of God -
drives Jesus to confront his weakest, most vulnerable points and his spiritual conflicts
like a Santa Ana wind driving across the Mojave Desert. Jesus does not avoid the devil,
nor dismiss him nor underestimate him, but contends with him, wrestling with him in an
agony of spiritual sweat.
The confrontation that the story suggests is that we, too, are to face these demons in
the barren places of our lives with the perseverance of Jesus. It means looking at
ourselves beneath the elaborate facades we create in order to protect us from the truth.
It means persevering in the spiritual wilderness to contend with our own emptiness, hate,
bitterness and wounded egos. That is why in this season we equip ourselves with prayer and
meditation, fasting and study so that the struggle with evil in the world can begin with
the struggle with evil in ourselves.
We allow the Spirit to drive us into the barrens to contend with our wounded pride, our
fear of not being appreciated, our anger of being taken for granted and the injustices
that have been done to us that poison our soul. We allow the Spirit to drive us into the
barrens so that we can experience the ultimate renewal that comes to us in the Easter
miracle. When we do so, we experience the ministration of angels:
In our confrontation with racial wounding, we discover in the church a commitment to
multiethnic community where all people are welcomed.
In our grief, we discover in the church the company of others who are bereaved who
provide mutual support until the sound of laughter is heard again.
In our confrontation with the demons that demand more doing, we discover the support of
small groups that allow us to be.
There are many routes to renewed life that is the heart of the Easter faith. All must
travel into the wilderness where the shadow of the cross falls. Into the barrens we go,
knowing that God will meet us there, sinners in need of forgiveness sinners comforted by
the knowledge that the founder of our faith has walked that way as well, and shown us that
beyond the wilderness the desert blooms, beyond evil lies triumph, beyond the shadow of
the cross Easter shines.