Lent 1 A  2005

Genesis 2:15-17,3:1-7

Psalm 32

Romans 5:12-19

Matthew 4:1-11

 

 

Here we are in Lent.  The churches time of waiting and watching and hearing the stories of Jesus on his way to the cross.

 

We start of right after the baptism of Jesus,  when Jesus is led into the wilderness for 40 days and 40 nights.  Fasting and praying.  And then,  when he is good and hungry the devil comes along with those three temptations.

 

Turn these stones into bread…

Throw yourself of the pinnacle of the temple…

Worship me and all this will be yours…

 

And Jesus,  does not succumb to any of the devil’s temptations.  No sirree.  Not one.

Jesus stands firm and  finally sends the devil away.

 

Like a boxer in a ring,  ducking and bobbing and finally knocking his opponent out,  for the time being.  And then the angels come and wait on him.  And strengthen him for the next round.

 

 

 

Great stuff.  Standing firm,  not letting the devil tempt you with physical desires,  the need to show off,  political gain…

 

Nice isn’t.    And then we hold up these texts and say,  “Look at Jesus,  see how strong he is!  See how he stands firm.  Now, your turn.   You can do it.   Don’t give in to the devil.”

 

Yeah,  but look,  here’s the news flash.  We are not Jesus!   I’m sorry folks,  but I can’t go without breakfast,  much less 40 days of fasting.  I’d be making bagels out of rocks as fast as I could.   And who doesn’t want to do something flashy to be noticed….think how people would flock through the doors to see me jump of the roof and be caught by angels.    And boy oh boy,  a little power over the kingdoms of the world…I have an idea about creating peace in Iraq

 

You can see that I don’t find it particularly helpful to be told to stand firm like Jesus.  To push away temptations.  To treat the devil like Jesus does. 

 

For we are human.  Caught up in the world and all that comes with it.  We are dealing with sin everyday.

 

Sin.  The big S word that we like to avoid.  On the one hand I’m not like Jesus,  but on the other hand I’m not quite ready to take Sin seriously.

 

 

 

 

So we call failings   crime and treat it with punishment.

Or we call failings  unhealthiness and treat it with therapy.

 

But God still calls our brokenness sin.  And treats it with grace.

 

Sin.     Brokenness.    Missing the mark.  Wanting to be God.    Wanting it all for ourselves.

 

 

We live in relationship.  No getting around it.   We have families and colleagues and neighbors and friends and a town and a county.   We are part of the relationship making up the state and the nation and the world.

 

All part of the web of life.   

 

But our relationships with one another and with God are not perfect.   We have all experienced brokenness in our families,  in our community,  in our world.

 

And this brokenness of relationship is sin.  Keeping us separate,  tearing us apart,  causing us to fight wars.

 

 

 

 

 

This brokenness can be within our own self,  as we seek to accept ourselves and our  gifts and failings.   Or between sparring spouses,    quarreling neighbors,    the division of this community between town and gown,   the rich verses poor,    white vs. arab,

Christian vs. Muslim….

 

 

We see it everywhere.  The news is full of it,  but we also see reflections of it in the mirror in the morning.     Wanting to be loved,  to have control,  to have some power over our lives.

 

The Adam lives,  no longer in the garden,  close to God.  But at a distance,  not trusting Eve.  Wondering about this God.

 

 

But it doesn’t end with sin.   We are not forever caught in a broken web of hatred, violence, mistrust,  self-doubt.

 

 

For the opposite of Sin is Grace.   And Grace is the acceptance of God.   A God who knows we are not Jesus.  We are not as strong or as confident or as brave as Jesus.

 

 

 

 

 

God knows this yet continues to love us.   And shower us with grace.

 

Not because we have earned it or deserved it.  But because God,  at heart, is love and healing and hope.

 

This grace often catches us unaware.     It strikes us when we are in the midst of despair,  when we are restless and estranged.  It strikes us on that cold winter morning when we look once again in the mirror and see not the sinner but the saint.

 

It is the look in a stranger’s eye that does not judge.  It is the trusting gaze of a small child.

 

It is the clasp of hands across the borders of hate.   It is the working together of rich and poor to solve problems that affect us all.

 

Grace is the  understanding of one another  that goes deeper than words.   Sitting in silence at a bedside,  walking together in the park.

 

Being accepted by God, warts and all.  

 

And in that moment we are changed,  transformed,  transfigured into better people.

 

 

 

 

All right.  It doesn’t last.  But it does move us in a new direction.  Empower us to brush ourselves off and try again to mend fences.  

 

Those moments of grace also show us, for moment, the world as God created it.  Peaceful,  lush,   unbroken.  

 

Grace giving moments that see us through life.     That let us say yes,  to ourselves and to others.   That make us whole.   And give us hope.

 

We are not Jesus.   We fall into sin,  are overcome by temptation.   Seek after personal gain,  fame and power.  

 

But God know that about us.   And continues to call us back into right relationships.   Accepting, guiding, forgiving, loving us.  Then sending us back into the fray to try our hand at accepting others.

 

Sin and Grace.  How we have received and continue to receive  the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness from Jesus.

 

 Know that God accepts and loves us and desires the best for us.   May our Lenten journey be filled with moments of grace and times of peace.

 

Amen.