Sermon Luke 4.1-13

Four priests were spending a couple of days on retreat preparing for Lent. On the first evening they decided to tell each other their biggest temptations.

The first priest said, “Well, I am so very embarrassed to confess that but my big temptation is racy pictures. Once, instead of the Church Times, I bought a copy of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition.”

“My temptation is worse,” said the second priest. “I’m afraid it’s gambling. One Saturday instead of preparing my sermon, I went to the races to bet on the horses, and I lost all the previous week’s Sunday collection.”

“Mine is worse still,” said the third priest. “I sometimes can’t control the urge to have a drink. Just last week, finding not one bottle left in the rectory, I actually broke into the sacramental wine.”

The fourth priest who was usually very talkative indeed, was suddenly very, very quiet. “Sisters and brothers, I hate to say this,” she said, “but my temptation is worst of all. I love to gossip – and if you will all excuse me, there’s a few phone calls I’d like to make!”

Oscar Wilde famously said “I can resist anything but temptation” . A line I think many of us could probably relate to (at least sometimes)!

The very nature of temptation is that it is so hard to resist – it‟s designed to make you give in.

Temptation is linked with the ides of doing something that we shouldn’t- something forbidden or banned, something dangerously elicit.

Rarely do we think of someone tempting us to do good! Can you imagine – “Go on ! Why don‟t you give away your best coat to that poor, cold homeless person on the street, go on – you know you want to!”

No, the little whispers in our ears are more likely to be encouraging us to think that we can get away with a tiny white lie or with “borrowing something‟ that isn’t ours without asking permission, maybe eating that tiny chocolate bar or drinking just that one glass of sherry that we gave up for Lent.

“It won‟t do any harm” the little voice says.

Well, of course that‟s what the serpent told Eve about eating the forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden and look what that led to!

I’m sure you will have seen the comic book portrayal of a person being tempted – the one with an angel hovering on one side of them and a little red demon on the other side.

The battle ensues with the demon tempting the individual to do something bad and the angel reminding them of the consequences and trying to convince them to do right.

It’s portrayed as a battle between good and evil as are many of the stories in books, films and television dramas – an all too familiar tale.

In biblical thought ‘to tempt’ means to test something or someone to determine or demonstrate their worth or faithfulness. Or it can mean an attempt by Satan to invite a person to sin, like in our comic book example.

The gospel passage we read today was about Jesus being led into the desert by the Holy Spirit in preparation for his ministry. Luke places this event after Jesus’ baptism – the event where he was acknowledged as God’s son and God’s love and acceptance of him was publicly proclaimed ‘You are my son, whom I love, with you I am well pleased’.

Luke also lists Jesus’ lineage here as if to emphasise his credentials to us, the reader.

We are told Jesus fasted for forty days and nights – and that number, the number forty, is a significant number in other parts of the Bible too – remember Noah and the flood when it rained for forty days, what about Moses who was up the mountain for forty days, Nineveh was given forty days to repent and Israel spent forty years in the wilderness being ‘tested’.

It’s at this time, when he is hungry, that the devil comes to tempt Jesus. Bible commentators often see Jesus essentially being challenged about three things in these temptations: his identity, his means of obtaining the kingdom and his use of power. They are all temptations to doubt Gods will and intention for Jesus’ life and ministry.

The first temptation is about his identity and his use of power. He is being asked to prove who he is by using his God-given power and authority to turn the stones into bread – to meet his own physical need, but also to use miracles to prove his identity. It’s as if the devil is saying “Come on, use what you’ve got to get what you want”, but Jesus responds with words taken from scripture – he doesn‟t enter into an argument or discussion : declaring “It is written: Man does not live on bread alone’. In Matthew these words are added “but on every word that comes from the mouth of God”.

Jesus’ need to eat is not a sin, but how he obtains what he needs is important.

Jesus recognises that God will provide and he needs to trust him to provide what is necessary and Jesus understands that he doesn’t need to prove who he is by miracle working – that is the wrong way to establish his identity. Jesus is willing to wait – to do his father’s will is his bread.

In the second temptation Jesus is taken to the mountain top –traditionally, a place of prayer and of God‟s presence.

A shortcut is offered to him – that he can have all the kingdoms of this world if he worships Satan. Jesus sought to establish a kingdom –God’s kingdom on this earth.

Many of his parables illustrated what this kingdom was like. Jesus wasn’t seeking to be king of the kind of kingdom he was being offered by Satan.

Jesus answered again with a sentence from Deuteronomy. It is written ‘worship the Lord your God and serve him only’.

The same sentiment echoed in the Lord’s Prayer that Jesus taught his disciples – Our father who art in heaven, your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.’

What Jesus taught and modelled to his disciples was servant leadership – that the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and offer his life as a ransom for many. Obedience to his Father was his ministry.

In the third temptation Jesus is led to the highest point of the temple in Jerusalem – the place where his earthly ministry would end. The devil questions his identity again “If you are the son of God…” and using scripture, tempts Jesus to put God’s word to the test by throwing himself from the rooftop.

What a sensational event it would have been – a dramatic sky jump without a parachute and God sending his angels to the rescue. Another shortcut being offered – a sign to prove he is the Messiah and God‟sGod’s son– – what a fantastic way that would be to launch his ministry.

But Jesus responds again with the word of God “Do not put the lord your God to the test”.

Not only is Jesus not prepared to ‘prove himself’ in the wrong way, he is not going to ask God, his father, to prove himself either.

On the cross, once again Jesus is challenged by bystanders with the same temptation – “If he is the son of God, let him ask God to come and rescue him – to prove he is who he says he is”.

He resists right to the end continuing to obey and trust God – not demanding to be rescued from the cross.

Luke ends the passage by telling us that when the devil had finished all this tempting, he left him until an opportune time.

This suggests that he will be back. That Jesus will continue to face temptation to take the easy way, the shortcut, to doubt who he is and use his power to prove his identity.

Satan is tempting him from taking the way of the cross, he is tempting him to abandon his true mission and ministry – but Jesus resists – there is no shortcut to salvation. He will be challenged time and time again, particularly by the Pharisees, about his identity, his teaching, his authority and his use of power.

He will also face the cross and that will require all these temptations to have been overcome before the ultimate testing of all – he will have to trust he is doing his fathers will, even when he no longer feels his father’s presence.

Why have you forsaken me? he cries out on the cross, before commending his spirit to his Father in trust at the last breath. He was tempted but he never gave in, he never sinned, he proved his faithfulness and was worthy to win our salvation for us.

We are eternally grateful he did it God’s way, not his way, not the way Satan was tempting him to go.

It’s no accident that the gospel reading for today is the temptation of Christ – we wouldn‟t be looking forward to Easter today, there would be no Lent if Jesus had yielded to those temptations.

We are in the days of Lent – forty days – they are a time of preparation for us – to recount all the suffering, but also to have one eye on the glory of the resurrection.

We are invited to ‘walk with Jesus’ through this time – as disciples we too are called to the way of the cross.

There are no shortcuts for us –  no easy life just because we are Christians. We are loved, we are children of God but our trust in God – who he is and who we are will be tested.

In difficult times – we may be tempted to do things our way – to doubt our identity as children of God, to put God to the test, to find another God to worship who doesn’t make demands of us.

But there is always an opportunity to choose the right pathway – to trust our heavenly Father. There is no shortcut to the victory and glory of Easter without passing through the pain and sorrow of Lent.

Lent gives us time to discover our identity afresh as children of God, to re-establish our trust in Him for our needs to be met, to reaffirm our trust in Him for our salvation. Committing ourselves anew to obedience and living the kingdom life are ways we can respond to the call to be his disciples.

I pray you have a blessed and holy Lent and that you are drawn closer to Him who is our saviour and our redeemer – Amen.

The liturgy for Ash Wednesday offers us an opportunity to stop, to reflect on who we are and to whom we belong – to adopt an attitude of humility, hit the reset button, and begin again.

We are invited to stand still in the whirlwind of life and the multiple activities that surround us on all sides and remember:

God hates nothing God has made; God forgives the sins of all who are penitent; our God is the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness.

And as if all this is not enough, the reminder that we “are dust, and to dust we shall return” ought to put our lives in Christ into a proper perspective of humility.

Of course, this is made visible and tangible with the imposition of ashes, traditionally made from the Palm Sunday crosses from the previous year. This act retraces the Baptismal Cross on our foreheads as a reminder of the promises we make each time we renew our Baptismal vows:

• to participate in the full life of the Body of Christ, his Church
• to say we are sorry whenever we have violated our relationships with God and others, all others
• that everything we do and say will proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ
• that we will seek and serve Christ in all persons
• that we will strive for justice and peace for all people, and respect the dignity of every human being

The Church has long recognised how challenging it is to keep these core promises that constitute walking in the Way of Christ. This is why we set aside these forty days each year for self-examination and repentance; prayer, fasting, and self-denial; to read and meditate on God’s holy Word.

The ashes of Ash Wednesday remind us not only of our mortality and need for regular repentance, but also that it is only by God’s gracious gift that we are given everlasting life through Jesus Christ.

Although we are to remember that we are dust, and to dust we shall return, we ought never to forget that we are Holy Dust, created and inspired by the very breath and Spirit of God.

Just as Moses was reminded by the burning bush that he was standing on Holy Ground, so the ashes of Ash Wednesday remind us that everywhere we stand, everywhere we walk, every speck of dust is Holy Ground – and that we are made Holy from the moment of our very first breath. Receiving these ashes is meant to remind us of these humbling and defining truths.

Next to the Cross itself, there is no more tender and revealing moment in God’s Holy Word than that proclaimed on Ash Wednesday by the prophet Joel, who in days of great darkness and gloom calls the people of God to a solemn assembly to pray for deliverance. Yet, amid this call to return to the Lord with all our hearts, the prophet reminds us of God’s very essence, and then imagines just how much the Lord our God loves us:

“Yet even now, says the Lord,
return to me with all your heart,
with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;
rend your hearts and not your clothing.
Return to the Lord, your God,
for he is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love,
and relents from punishing.
Who knows whether he will not turn and relent,
and leave a blessing behind him,
a grain offering and a drink offering
for the Lord, your God?”

When we are enveloped with such darkness and gloom that we are unable to make the appointed sacrifices to God, unable to turn our hearts and minds back to God on our own, the prophet imagines that the Lord God himself will make the appointed sacrifices himself, leaving a grain offering and a drink offering on our behalf – which offerings constitute the essence of our Holy Communion. We are those people who, like the prophet, can imagine that God enters our lives and leaves an offering and blessing for us every Sunday – because our God is the God who is “gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing.”

This realisation of God’s love and care for us brings us to our knees and a Litany of Repentance in which we rehearse all the possible ways in which we stray from the way of the Lord God, the Way of Christ. It is after this remarkable and thorough confession that the reset button is pressed, and we are forgiven by Almighty God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, so that the rest of our life hereafter may be pure and holy, and that at the last we may come to his eternal joy.

Ash Wednesday is a day to stop, reflect on who we are and to whom we belong, to adopt an attitude of humility, and hit the reset button of our life in Christ. A day to remember that we are dust, but that we are Holy Dust, animated by God’s own breath. For it is God’s own Spirit that enlivens us and sustains us, day in and day out. A day to remember that God loves us so much as to make sacrifices for us when we are unable to do so ourselves. A day to allow God in Christ to forgive us so that we might live the rest of our lives reflecting the very love that God has for us and for all of creation. A day that we may remind ourselves with great humility to love God, love all others, and love all of creation itself. For that is what it means to be the Holy Dust of God!

Amen.

* Exodus 34:29-35 * Psalm 99 * 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2 * Luke 9:28-36, (37-43a)

In the coming week, churches around the world will undergo a transformation of sorts, as the liturgical calendar moves us from the season after Epiphany into the season of Lent. Our praise-filled shouts of “Alleluia!” will give way to Lent’s solemn petition, “Lord have mercy.”

Many churches will put away their finest brass and festive hangings in favour of simpler and more contemplative objects. And the lectionary will lead us down from the mountaintop where the transfigured Christ is revealed in glory, through the valley of the shadow of death, and ultimately to Jerusalem where the cross and tomb await.

Lent can weigh very heavily on some of us as it urges us to recall the suffering and death of our Lord. So, in many ways, we arrive at this final Sunday before Lent with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, a combination of joy and dread. It is no accident that every year on this Sunday, we hear again the story of Christ’s transfiguration on the mountaintop because, at the heart of this story, we find these all-too-familiar feelings: anticipation diluted by anxiety and joy thinned by dread.

Luke’s Gospel tells us that Jesus summons Peter, James, and John to the mountain top. Without understanding the context, we might be tempted to believe that the chosen disciples happily agreed and gleefully followed Jesus without any reservation. But, we must recall that just a few verses earlier in chapter 9, Jesus tells the disciples that he must undergo great suffering, be rejected, killed, and then rise from the dead.

“If any want to become my followers,” Jesus says, “let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.”

As Peter, James, and John journey with Jesus to the mountain top, they are forced to come to grips with the horrifying truth that Jesus, their beloved friend and leader, must suffer and die!

When they reach the top of the mountain, the Gospel tells us that Jesus was transfigured before them and Moses and Elijah appeared. As the disciples looked at their Lord, they realised that they were in the very presence of God. But even in this incredible moment of divine transfiguration, Peter could not forget what Jesus had told them before they came to the mountain.

“Master, it is good for us to be here,” Peter says, “Let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”

At some level, most of us can’t help but sympathise with Peter. Who among us would knowingly submit our self or our loved ones to pain and suffering? Peter’s efforts to protect Jesus are undoubtedly acts of love and devotion – but they are also acts resulting from Peter and the disciples’ need for safety and security. They had seen a glimpse of God’s glory in the face of Jesus, and they wanted desperately to hold onto it, to protect it.

But the moment that Peter gets into cahoots with James and John to try and hold onto and protect Jesus, is the moment that a voice from above breaks in, proclaiming: “This is my Son, my chosen; listen to him!”

And notice what happens next: As the disciples came down from the mountain top, they didn’t rush into the closest town and tell the first person they saw about what they had just witnessed. They didn’t wait until Jesus wasn’t looking to talk about it. And they didn’t take to Social Media with the news. Luke’s Gospel tells us that they “told no one any of the things they had seen.”

Although most biblical scholars interpret the disciples’ silence as a mark of fear about what they had seen and heard – which is certainly a plausible explanation – so perhaps there’s more than one dimension here. What if the disciples’ silence allowed them to be obedient to God’s command?

The disciples had heard God say, “This is my Son, my chosen; listen to him!” So instead of running and telling the world what they had seen on the mountain, what if they chose instead to obey; to be silent so that they could listen?

In a world bustling with noise and chaos, where words and rhetoric are shouted with impunity, stirring up fear and anxiety, perhaps this is the word from the Lord that we need to hear.

Amidst all of the joys and heartbreaks of the world; in the face of all of the delight and despair that surrounds us; and despite all of the things we know and can never know, God beckons us, ever so gently: Listen.

Imagine for a moment, what the world might look like if we listened – not in preparation to respond, but in order to understand.

What might our politics look like if we listened more and argued less? What might our schools look like if we taught our children how to listen as intently and deliberately as we taught them how to speak and to write? And what might our churches look like if we listened intently for the voice of God from those who differ from us?

In his book, Bread for the Journey, the Catholic priest and theologian Henri J.M. Nouwen writes:

“To listen is very hard, because it asks of us so much interior stability that we no longer need to prove ourselves by speeches, arguments, statements, or declarations. True listeners no longer have an inner need to make their presence known. They are free to receive, to welcome, to accept… The beauty of listening is that, those who are listened to start feeling accepted, start taking their words more seriously and discovering their own true selves. Listening is a form of spiritual hospitality by which you invite strangers to become friends, to get to know their inner selves more fully, and even to dare to be silent with you.”

As our Lenten journey approaches, and the chaos of the world presses in with voices of despair clanging in our ears, may we remember how to listen. For it is in listening that we truly hear one another.

And it is in listening that we hear the voice of God.

Amen.

* Genesis 45:3-11, 15 * Psalm 37:1-11, 39-40 * 1 Corinthians 15:35-38, 42-50 * Luke 6:27-38

Old Mrs Cameron was celebrating her one hundredth birthday.

She’d received her telegram from the King. She’d been made a fuss of by her grandchildren and great grandchildren and now she was being interviewed by a reporter from the Raggy.

“One hundred years old” the young reporter exclaimed. “You must have done so much in all those years! Tell me what are you most proud of?”

After a moment or two, Mrs Cameron responded, “Well, I don’t think I have a single enemy in all the world”.

“What a beautiful thought! How inspirational!” said the reporter.

“That’s right, not one enemy in all the world” the old girl said,

“I’ve outlived every last one of them!”

For many people, even those of us who identify ourselves as Christians, this morning’s gospel passage may be one of the most difficult in all of our holy scriptures.

Love your enemies.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes that expression seems to me to describe an ideal that feels totally unrealistic and unattainable.

In contrast to the humourous little story I told you about old Mrs Cameron (which of course was entirely fictional – but possibly reflects the real attitude of many), I want to tell you a true story.

It’s the story of Maria Goretti.

Maria was an Italian peasant girl who is remembered both for her extreme devotion and for her tragic death at a young age.

Born in 1890 in Corinaldo, Italy, Maria was the youngest of the five children in her family. Her childhood was marked by poverty and hardship, and her parents struggled to make ends meet. But Maria was known for her deep devotion to her faith and for her love of prayer. Despite the difficulties of her life, she was said to be a joyful and generous child, always willing to help others.

In 1902, at the age of 11, Maria was attacked and stabbed by a 19 year old neighbour, Alessandro Serenelli. Despite her severe injuries, Maria forgave her attacker and asked that he be forgiven before she sadly died of her injuries the following day.

Maria’s death and her forgiveness of her attacker made a profound impact on those around her and quickly spread throughout the local community. Serenelli, her attacker, was arrested, tried and convicted of her murder, and served 30 years in prison. He later converted to Christianity and credited Maria’s forgiveness and her intercession for his redemption.

Maria’s mother, Assunta, also forgave Serenelli and testified on his behalf at his trial.

A true story of forgiveness.

We live today in a world of great turmoil – of terrorism, a world full of violence and murder, of vicious vendettas and wars that are often stirred up in the tabloid press and online media. Is Jesus really saying to us that acts like these are not to be avenged?

In order to understand what Jesus is really saying to us, we have to put aside our prejudices and assumptions and really listen to his words.

“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who treat you badly.”

In the Old Testament hatred and vengeance towards evildoers was presumed to be the right attitude to have. But Jesus, as he so often does, turns this on its head and calls for an attitude of love towards the enemy and the persecutor.

Often, the first big hurdle for us is the word “love”. It is of course a very emotional word, implying both affection and intimacy. For us to “love” is often to “be in love with”, to “be attracted to”.

But Jesus is not telling us to be in love with our enemies. He is not even telling us to like them.

Rather he is telling us to express the kind of love that God has for us. It is a one-sided love in the sense that a return is not expected. God reaches out in infinite love to every single person without exception.

Our problem is that we can sometimes focus too much on ourselves and our own immediate needs and so overlook the needs of others.

To love as God loves is to focus more on others.

To begin to ask “Why do they act in this way? What is hurting inside them that drives them to such behaviour?” Already we are just by thinking in this way, beginning to care for our enemy and beginning to love him or her.

And is this not a much better solution to the problem? To bring peace back into that person’s life and initiate a healing process in them and between them and me.

Jesus is not at all asking us to do something “unnatural”. We do not naturally want to hate or be hated. We want to love and to be loved.

We see many parts of the world where – for years – there has been a process of hatred and retaliation in a never-ending spiral of vengeance and loss of life.

The only way to break this cycle is to follow Jesus’ advice. It is not a lose-lose or lose-win situation; it is a win-win situation where everyone benefits.

Perhaps these words of the late Mother Teresa are appropriate here:

“Love, to be true, has to hurt. I must be willing to give whatever it takes not to harm other people and, in fact, to do good to them. This requires that I be willing to give until it hurts. Otherwise, there is no love in me and I bring injustice, not peace, to those around me.”

To put Jesus’ teaching into effect is not a matter of strengthening our will to do something very difficult but to change our conventional thinking at the deepest level, to see things his way. Once we do that, it becomes much easier.

And, through us, the compassion of God can then be experienced by all people.

To end today, let me tell you about Myriam.

In December 2014, a children’s television crew visited Iraqi Kurdistan, where they planned to tell the stories of child refugees who had fled from ISIS. But in a camp in Erbil, something even more profound took place. Presenter Essam Nagy met a little girl who would change his life and inspire millions around the world.

Nine-year-old Myriam was from Qaraqosh, the largest Christian town in the Nineveh plains. She loved watching this particular children’s programme and was delighted to talk to the presenter on camera.

Despite her suffering, Myriam said she felt grateful to God for protecting her family and providing for them. Then, the presenter asked her how she felt about the ISIS fighters who had seized her hometown – and Myriam spoke the words that would resonate with millions.

“I will only ask God to forgive them,” she said. Did Myriam forgive them herself? Yes, she replied – without missing a beat.

Myriam’s words were powerful because they show the heart of the Christian faith. Some of Jesus’ last words on earth were, ‘Father, forgive them, because they don’t know what they are doing.’ Myriam’s testimony shows the same faith.

I’m going to finish with the words with which Myriam finished her interview –

“God is always protecting you, and you can count on Him,” she says. Then, with a light in her eyes, she speaks about Jesus. “He is my friend, my brother … my everything.”

Amen