Sermon Seeds: Wilderness Companions

First Sunday in Lent Year C

Lectionary citations
Deuteronomy 26:1-11
Psalm 91:1-2, 9-16
Romans 10:8b-13
Luke 4:1-13

Preaching notes in preparation for the One Great Hour of Sharing Offering 2016
by Mary Schaller Blaufuss

Additional reflection on Luke 4: 1-13 for Racial Justice Sunday
by Elizabeth Leung

Sermon Seeds

Focus Scripture:
Luke 4:1-13
Additional reflection on Deuteronomy 26:1-11

Weekly Theme:
Wilderness Companions

Reflection:
by Kathryn M. Matthews

Lent, again. At the beginning of a new church season, we take stock of where we are in our biblical reflections. The lectionary has provided a challenging path for preachers and hearers alike through the season of Epiphany. We’ve been led from the baptism of Jesus in Luke’s Gospel, to the beginning of Jesus’ ministry in John’s Gospel (no wilderness or testing time there, but a festive wedding where Jesus turns water into wine); back to Luke’s Gospel for Jesus’ inaugural address in his hometown synagogue, followed by the locals’ unpleasant reaction to his words; to the calling of the first disciples; and finally, to the Transfiguration, which occurs all the way “forward,” in chapter nine of Luke’s Gospel.

In all these readings, God shows Godself in the world: it’s no wonder then that Epiphany is the season of light. We’ve also been coming to understand who Jesus is during this Epiphany season, as the stage is set for his ministry. The same thing could be said of Luke’s Gospel so far: Luke has been preparing us for what Jesus is going to do, and what he is going to teach, by making sure we have a clear sense of who he is.

We’re not in Epiphany anymore

Lent feels like a very different kind of season from Epiphany, one that begins on a somber note, in the desolate wilderness, with a story that reminds us of traditional Lenten practices like fasting, giving things up, and spending time deep in prayer. The story seems to set the right tone for all those resolutions we’ve made for the next six weeks. However, we might be so distracted by what we are supposed to do, or intend to do, that we lose track of what the story’s really about, and what God is doing out there, in the wilderness.

Yes, this is one more opportunity for us to deepen our understanding of who Jesus is, although we were told quite clearly on the first Sunday in Epiphany, by the voice from heaven at Jesus’ baptism, that he is the Son of God. Today’s lesson is more about the way, and the why, Jesus is going to go about his ministry: we might say that the ground rules for his ministry and mission are set. The Son of God is not here to grab power for himself, or to show off how much he matters to God, or to work magic for the masses. That’s not how it’s going to work.

In training for ministry

Luke never lets us forget that the Spirit of God is upon and in and with Jesus, not just at his baptism, and not just in the wilderness (although certainly at both of these times), but throughout the entire Gospel. After Jesus’ baptism, he goes out, led by the Spirit, to a long time of reflection and fasting in the wilderness, as Marcus Borg describes it, “beyond the domestication of reality provided by culture and human interchange” (Jesus: A New Vision).

In preparation for important sporting competitions like the Olympics or the Super Bowl, athletes face trials and tests in preparation for what they are about to do. Richard Swanson says, in an understated sort of way, that Jesus’ test prepares him, too, for what he is about to do, for “he will turn the world right-side-up again. This is a fairly large task” (Provoking the Gospel of Luke).

What holy people do

Jesus is following in the footsteps of “other Jewish holy men” like Moses and Elijah and John the Baptist, and the earliest hearers of the Gospel would have remembered them just as the “forty days” he spent there would have suggested to them that it was a long sojourn. (I remember when my dad used to say that he had told us something “four-teen times”; perhaps our ancestors in faith got the message about “forty” just as we knew Dad meant a lot of times.)

What happens next is witnessed by no one except Jesus, but Luke gives us a sense of the struggle that Jesus endures out there in the wilderness. Scholars are in remarkable agreement in their interpretation of this passage about Jesus facing an adversary who almost comes across as a “friend” who offers things that sound perfectly reasonable and good at first. After all, why shouldn’t Jesus satisfy his hunger with a little bread, and wouldn’t it be great if Jesus (instead of the hated Romans) ruled the world, and how impressive would it be if Jesus flung himself off the temple roof and a thousand angels came to rescue him? (We can almost hear the tempting voice say, “That would be awesome!”)

Jesus didn’t do PR

If Jerusalem had witnessed that one amazing thing, early on in Jesus’ ministry, perhaps there would be no need for the rest of the Gospel, right? Well, maybe not, Sharon Ringe writes: “Public relations stunts also contradict the gospel” (Luke, Westminster Bible Companion). Indeed, how many times in his ministry would Jesus have to wonder if the crowds gathered because they wanted to see wonders rather than to hear the good news? (And wouldn’t we have done the same thing?)

Moderns and post-moderns alike will probably wonder about “the devil” Jesus encounters in the wilderness. Commentators describe him, of course, as the personification of evil, although, as Richard Swanson writes, “Luke did not imagine pitchforks, horns, pointy tails, or the red long-johns that you see in cartoon devils” (Provoking the Gospel of Luke). No, it might be closer to imagine instead a seductive voice offering very “good” things to Jesus, an attractive strategic plan for his ministry.

Where does the struggle come from?

More than one writer even suggests that the tests come from deep within Jesus himself, hungry and alone and wondering: N.T. Wright suggests that “the devil’s voice appears as a string of natural ideas in his own head. They are plausible, attractive, and make, as we would say, a lot of sense.” This, Wright says, is a very “personal and intimate” struggle for Jesus; we remember that he was fully human as well as fully divine (Luke for Everyone). And “the devil” not only offers attractive things but backs them up by quoting Scripture, which just shows how easily the Bible can be, and has been, used for entirely wrong purposes. A sermon on this text might explore the voices in our “domesticated” culture that offer us seductively “good” things that lead us, alas, away from God.

There is more in this story to “ring the bells” of Luke’s audience. The tests Jesus faces during his forty days remind us of the tests faced by Israel during their forty years in the wilderness long ago: about trusting God to provide, and worshipping only God, and moving forward into a way of life under the rule of God of justice, mercy, and peace. Things didn’t always go so well in that earlier test faced by Israel, and Jesus himself will be tested again throughout his ministry.

What really matters?

His disciples, including us today, will have much to learn from that struggle, about priorities and power. We don’t often draw apart from the cacophony around us, or the incessant electronics of our lives, or the overload of messages and material objects, all of which seem to set up a smokescreen between us and God. Sometimes a smokescreen, and sometimes a thick, thick wall reinforced by our possessions, our place, our prestige–our security.

In a small way (compared to forty days alone in the wilderness and a test by the devil himself), our ongoing economic troubles have been an opportunity to re-examine our priorities and reflect on where we place our trust, as well as what holds power in our lives. This Lent, even better than, say, giving up chocolate, we might develop a daily spiritual practice of reflection on God’s provision, God’s abundance, and God’s power in our lives. We might learn to reframe our lives.

Sacrifice and spiritual growth

Speaking of giving up chocolate: preachers face congregations this Sunday who might find the very concept of Lent outdated and maybe even irrelevant or too “church-y.” (Is Lent “religious,” rather than “spiritual”?) We can get into the Christmas season much better than we can enter into Lenten reflections and discipline. Isn’t it old-fashioned to “give something up for Lent”? Isn’t it more positive to do good works, and to rest, and to grow spiritually, for example, rather than thinking in negative terms, like sacrifice and giving things up?

Yes and no. Certainly, we’re not pursuing salvation through works, but I do wonder if it’s not unlike getting in shape physically, which usually entails letting go of the things that pack on weight just as much as it requires doing positive things that will lead us toward better health, like adding exercise to our daily routine.

A spiritual fitness program

One way to think of Lent, then, might be as a spiritual fitness program. No single dimension is enough, for what is required is a whole-life effort to be more loving, more trusting, more courageous, more humble, yes, but also lighter, more hopeful, more filled with joy, even here in Lent. If, for example, we’re carrying a grudge, our load will be lighter if we let it go – a very different kind of thing to give up. If we are preoccupied with material things – food, our car, our house, for example, including worry about all three – we could set our minds to other things: giving an extraordinarily generous gift to another, or seeing things from another’s perspective (which really takes willlpower, and is a great spiritual practice).

A particularly challenging Lenten practice this year might be to strive to see “the other side” in our political debate during this painfully polarized election season, to find value in the views of those who disagree with us and even more, to respect them and grant them the benefit of the doubt before wondering about their intentions and vision.

And speaking of generous gifts and spiritual practices, what if we tithed for the six weeks of Lent? At the end of the Lenten season, would we be able to look back and see God’s hand at work in the world, through our faithful giving? Would we see something of great wonder, even in the quiet wilderness of our own humble efforts?

Who is Jesus, really?

On the one hand, the story of Jesus being tested by the devil in the wilderness, and passing that test, is about Jesus being the Son of God, and not about setting an example for us. Just in case we had any doubts at this point in the story, Luke makes that perfectly clear. On the other hand, many writers do find in this story a word for us in our own struggle to be faithful and to grow deeper in our trust in our God.

I would like to highlight the writing of two women in this regard. Mary Gordon has written a thoughtful and thought-provoking book, Reading Jesus: A Writer’s Encounter with the Gospels, in which she reflects on this story, evoking the hunger Jesus felt, that most human of experiences, and one that involves both body and soul. The word is not just “hungry” but “famished”: “Famished: you can feel it in the cave behind your ribs, in the midriff’s empty drum,” she writes; Jesus was in a state of “depletion, an almost dangerous, desperate state.”

Hunger and vulnerability

Hunger could have made Jesus “vulnerable” to the test he faced of putting the devil in his place, with just one word, one call to God. “One of the rare human achievements,” Gordon writes, “is to be so sure of oneself that one resists the temptation to prove one’s own worth to someone else.” Maybe, in your own way, you face the temptation to “prove you are effective, prove you are beloved, try authority on for size, and on top of it, glory….Authority. Glory. What are they but the signs that the world recognizes our worth?” This happens to ministers, of course, but it happens to all of us in one way or another. What really “proves” our value, our effectiveness, our belovedness?

No matter how far away that ancient wilderness is, or how far above us Jesus is, Barbara Brown Taylor brings the story home to us in our own spiritual lives. She begins her sermon, “Lenten Discipline,” with a short history of the way Lent developed, after Jesus’ followers had grown a little too comfortable and had lowered their expectations of both God and themselves (we might say that they had “lowered the bar” of the life of faith). Taylor’s description of our ancestors fits us painfully well today, as we too have found ways to accommodate the culture around us, completely (or at least uneasily) at ease with those conflicts between faith and that world that ought to trouble our souls.

Filling the empty places

Her history is helpful, but then she challenges us to approach Lent as a time for spring housecleaning for our souls, finding out what the “pacifiers” are that cushion our existence, making us feel safe and comfortable, making us think we can get along without God. (This is true even when these pacifiers are merely distractions from the pain and the struggles of faith.) Taylor then takes us on a Lenten journey of examination and trust, but it doesn’t sound easy, and she doesn’t give us any free passes, either.

And that’s a good thing, I believe. She challenges us to name our particular addictions, the things “we use to fill the empty place inside of us that belongs to God alone”; she exhorts us to avoid them for forty days, and then to be attentive to how preoccupied we are by what we have given up (Home by Another Way). Yes, “how” we practice our Lenten disciplines matters, including the spirit in which we fast. But so does the decision to practice a discipline in the first place, and to let God work through that practice to shape our faith into one that endures and grows and thrives, no matter what is going on around us, no matter what happens in our lives, no matter what we encounter out there, in the wilderness.

God in the wilderness with us

Speaking of wilderness, perhaps the most moving words that also tie all this together with our theme, “Wilderness Companions,” come from John Stendahl, who evokes the wilderness – not only the wilderness in which Jesus was tested, but every wilderness in which we wander, at one time or another: “For the desert is not God-forsaken nor does it belong to the devil. It is God’s home. The Holy Spirit is there, within us and beside us. And if we cannot feel that spirit inside of us or at our side, perhaps we can at least imagine Jesus there, not too far away, with enough in him to sustain us, enough to make us brave” (New Proclamation Year C 2001). And so, let us set out on the journey of Lent, toward the cross, and remembering the empty tomb beyond.

The Rev. Kathryn M. Matthews serves as dean of Amistad Chapel at the national offices of the United Church of Christ in Cleveland, Ohio.

You’re invited to share your reflections on this text on our Facebook page.

A Bible study version of this reflection is at Weekly Seeds.

For further reflection:

T.S. Eliot, 20th century
“The last temptation is the greatest treason: to do the right deed for the wrong reason.”

C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters, 20th century
“Whatever their bodies do affects their souls. It is funny how mortals always picture us as putting things into their minds: in reality our best work is done by keeping things out…”

Thomas Merton, No Man Is an Island, 20th century
“The greatest temptations are not those that solicit our consent to obvious sin, but those that offer us great evils masking as the greatest goods.”

Fulton J. Sheen, 20th century
“Why is it that any time we speak of temptation we always speak of temptation as something that inclines us to wrong. We have more temptations to become good than we do to become bad.”

Henry David Thoreau, 19th century
“Generally speaking, a howling wilderness does not howl: it is the imagination of the traveler that does the howling.”

Mother Teresa, 20th century
“I know God will not give me anything I can’t handle. I just wish [God] didn’t trust me so much.”

Henri Nouwen, 20th century
“Success, popularity, and power can indeed present a great temptation, but their seductive quality often comes from the way they are part of the much larger temptation to self-rejection. When we have come to believe in the voices that call us worthless and unlovable, then success, popularity, and power are easily perceived as attractive solutions….Self-rejection is the greatest enemy of the spiritual life because it contradicts the sacred voice that calls us the ‘Beloved.’ Being the Beloved constitutes the core truth of our existence.”

Terry Pratchett, Good Omens, 21st century
“People couldn’t become truly holy, he said, unless they also had the opportunity to be definitely wicked.”

Lectionary-based reflection on Disaster, Refugee and Sustainable Development ministries of the United Church of Christ through One Great Hour of Sharing (OGHS)
by Mary Schaller Blaufuss

Focus Text:
Luke 4: 1-13

Preaching theme:

In Jesus’ struggle with his identity, style of ministry, and definition of kingdom, he embraces power “with” rather than power “over.” The UCC in disaster response, refugee emergency, and sustainable development takes its lead from Jesus’ struggle, operating as accompaniment rather paternalism with a focus on long-term relationships and empowering local people.

Interpretation and Informing Stories:
by Mary Schaller Blaufuss

This wilderness experience helps Jesus shape the practical ways in which he will live out his ministry. He is confronted with real temptations that have real implications, not just for their end result but also for the nature of the journey. Jesus confronts the temptation to serve his own needs, to assert authority for its own sake, and to seek only safety and security. Over and over he chooses relationship with God as his reason for being and his way of acting in the world.

This wilderness experience informs UCC ministries in disaster, sustainable development and with refugees.

For example, UCC Disaster Ministries responds to natural disasters publicized in the media and those neglected by the spotlight. The amount of media coverage of a disaster event, in fact, highly influences the designated donations for a specific disaster. These designated donations are extremely helpful in helping the church with a robust and long-term response. The response to Typhoon Haiyan, which hit the Philippines in November of 2013, is an example of generosity that has yielded significant recovery and capacity building.

The UCC also is present in a robust way when the media is limited. Donations to the One Great Hour of Sharing Offering make sure that there are resources available, when a special appeal is not possible, to make an immediate response even before the global media arrives. Response to the March 2015 cyclone that decimated the South Pacific Island of Vanuatu exemplifies this commitment to serving among the most vulnerable. Emergency funds were sent for immediate response, and relationships continue to be nurtured today for long-term rebuilding.

The refugee emergency for Syria has also become an emergency for Jordan as that small country hosts millions of refugees, straining its own limited resources. In the southern part of the country, new refugees have settled alongside impoverished communities of Palestinian refugees who were welcomed by Jordan and given Jordanian citizenship a generation ago. It is a desolate area with few natural resources for the support of so many. Tensions between the former refugees and new refugees seem immanent.

Global Ministries’ partner church, the Orthodox Initiative, recognizes these dynamic by walking daily with both groups of people. Rather than trying to assert an authority that pits these groups against each other, the Orthodox Initiative is bringing them together. A new school in the area provides space for youth of both groups to study together, play sports together, and come to know each other personally. Youth, who have trouble seeing a hopeful future, experience the support of the broader community. Funds from One Great Hour of Sharing help support the Orthodox Initiative.

Sustainable development ministries seek to build resilient and sustainable communities. The people active in these ministries are vulnerable or experience social exclusion. They seek safety and security, but more than that, they seek dignity. Micro-finance is a method that enables access to the economic system through which people provide for families and build communities. Oikocredit, founded out of commitments of the ecumenical church movement for economic justice, pioneered and paved the way for a whole field of finance.

Oikocredit now embraces its role as a check on the micro-finance sector when it becomes self-serving rather than serving the people. Oikocredit concentrates on women’s empowerment with 86% of borrowers as women. It focuses on rural areas where 70% of the world’s poor lives. These micro-loans encourage Fair Trade industries. The United Church of Christ was among the founding members of the U.S. branch, Oikocredit USA. One Great Hour of Sharing is at work in Oikocredit empowering dignity.

The Rev. Dr. Mary Schaller Blaufuss serves as Team Leader, Global Sharing of Resources, with Wider Church Ministries of the United Church of Christ at the national offices in Cleveland, Ohio.

More stories on Facebook (OGHS UCC) and Twitter @OGHS_at_UCC and online at http://www.ucc.org/oghs_stories.

Additional reflection on Luke 4:1-13 for Racial Justice Sunday
by Elizabeth Leung

How is the Temptation of Jesus relevant to themes that can be preached on a Racial Justice Sunday? (see note below) Commentaries often point out the obvious objects of temptation: food, glory and protection. For Lent, not a few interpretations suggest that the followers of Jesus should imitate his resistance. While Jesus’ triumph (with the rapid deployment of Scriptures) can be readily pointed out, preachers may anticipate in their audience some struggles with the story.

In the first temptation, Jesus seemed to have the power of turning stones into bread, after forty days of fasting, but resisted doing so. If this means that we are to resist seeking after material things, would it be easier to do so for those who don’t have to worry about them? In the current context of income inequality, many worry about the future of providing food, clothing and shelter for themselves and their families. Such human needs for the material hardly rise up to the level of temptation, do they?

In the second temptation, Jesus was offered the opportunity of world domination. Many in our congregations are just trying to keep a job, or to find a job, or are practically one paycheck away from poverty. Most people are not in positions of prestige where the temptation of authority and glory is clear and imminent. Maybe some of us have hoped for a bit more, like finding satisfaction in our work. Would that amount to the temptation of glory?

In the third temptation, Jesus was being placed on the equivalent of the top of a church steeple, where he was one step away from falling to the ground. How is one to follow Jesus’ refusal to secure personal protection in this regard? The human need for bodily security could hardly be categorized as temptation, could it?

The 2015 Pastoral Letter on Racism: A New Awakening reminds us that “the racism we face today … is not the racism Americans of all races faced decades ago. Today, we are more keenly aware that racism is more than an individual sin and it involves more than a private injury. Our understanding of racism as more than a black/white issue has deepened and now we are able to see that racism is also institutional and systemic.”

Racial justice is the systemic fair treatment of all people that results in equal opportunities and outcomes for everyone: opportunities and outcomes like freedom from hunger, police violence, predatory lending, environmental pollution, disproportionate incarceration, and freedom to access housing, employment, healthcare, public education, equal protection under the law. In the language of Christian faith (Gen. 1:27; James 2:14-17), it is the action of honoring the image of God in all.

Our human needs for physical sustenance, for livelihood and for personal security are not the temptations that Jesus resisted in honor of God. Our temptation in the face of persistent racial inequities is to continue living as if we are the only ones deserving of getting those needs met. By doing nothing and remaining complacent with public policies that perpetuate systemic racism, all of us are effectively supporting the continuing disfiguration of the image of God in those around us.

If there is any grace for us, it is the Holy Spirit that we rely upon in struggling against systemic racism. To apply Ephesians 6:12, “our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness.”

Note: Preachers who are hesitant in using texts other than Genesis 1:27 and Galatians 3:28 to teach about racism can refer to Racializing Jesus by Shawn Kelley, Race and Theology by Elaine A. Robinson, Racism and God-Talk by Rubén Rodríguez, Christology and Whiteness edited by George Yancy.

The Rev. Dr. Elizabeth Leung serves as Minister for Racial Justice with Justice and Witness Ministries at the national offices of the United Church of Christ in Cleveland, Ohio.

Additional reflection on Deuteronomy 26:1-11
by Kathryn M. Matthews

Wasn’t it little Simba, in The Lion King, who heard his father’s voice reminding him, “Remember who you are”? And didn’t that reminder help Simba in deciding what he needed to do next, how he needed to act? What we do and who we are, or who we believe ourselves to be, might be seen as a DNA molecule, twisting and turning together in a beautiful and necessary dance. As Christians, we trace our lineage and our identity to our ancestors in faith, the people of Israel long ago. Those ancestors wandered in the wilderness, lost their way, hungered and thirsted, rebelled against God and put their trust in idols made of gold. You might say that they were just like us. And like them, we need to remember, to hear the story that shaped us and to be reminded of where we came from, and especially of the One who has brought us this far.

Today’s reading comes at the beginning of another Lenten season, a time of lengthening days…not just in hours but in slowness, in taking time to linger over our spiritual lives, over our identity as a people of faith, over the texts that form us and the quiet places in which God speaks to us, still. Timothy Shapiro urges us to observe Lent as a kind of Sabbath space in which we take the time to engage our scripture texts not as solitary students but as communities in which we allow “more time for the Word to work in the soul” (New Proclamation Year C 2007).

This far by faith

Here, at the beginning of Lent, we might begin by looking back: back at the story of the Israelites so long ago, grateful for having been brought “this far by faith,” as the great African American hymn says. Ironically, the Israelites were slaves freed by God to find a new home, and African American Christians were brought to a new land as slaves. The story is painful in many places. But the memory is of a God who was with the people every step of the way, and gratitude is the first response to the story. Gratitude, and then generosity. We begin Lent not only with a reminder, an overview, of the history of a people but a command to remember always the hand of God active in our lives and to give thanks by offering not our leftovers but our first fruits to God.

We read the story of “where we came from” over and over, and most of us have some awareness of Jacob, our “wandering Aramean” of an ancestor, and the time Israel spent in the desert, and the falling of Jericho’s walls, and so forth. But do we connect who we are with this story, or with the pieces we know? If Lent can be seen as another “New Year’s” experience for us, a time of resolution to get “in shape” spiritually, with more time to read and pray and serve, then Bible study is an important part of this practice, and beginning with the story of a people on the edge of the Promised Land is not a bad place to start. In many ways, we see ourselves as already living in a land flowing with milk and honey, not to mention countless other delights. But who do we say we are now, and how do we behave? How did we get here, by our own efforts, or by the grace of God?

Generosity as response

And if it truly is by the grace of God, how do we express our gratitude? Giving in the United Church of Christ averages 1.9 percent of income; how does this passage from the Book of Deuteronomy inspire you to reconsider your own giving to the church? How does this passage instruct us about giving to the community where we are formed in faith, where we learn about generosity and are inspired to be generous and nurtured in giving through the generosity of others, many of whom lived long before us but provided for us nevertheless? And how does this passage inspire us in our voting, our political beliefs, our hope and vision for our public life, and our sense of who we are as a nation, in which we care for “the widow, the alien, and the orphan,” too?

In these instructions that shape our identity as much as our ritual, we find a command to “make sacrifices of well-being, and eat them there, rejoicing before the Lord your God.” We might recall these words even as we bring our offering forward, an exercise in some churches that is often marked by awkwardness or stiffness, or perhaps even reduced to simply a plate or basket in the back of the church.

Giving with joy

Today’s reading challenges us as pastors to re-think our offering and its place in the liturgy as an expression of thanks and joy, a response of the people to hearing the story and finding their place within it. After all, we Christians are people of memory, too, and were told to “do this in memory of me” every time we gather at the table for the feast.

And all of this, the celebration, the remembering, the sharing, and the thanksgiving, all of this is not just a good idea or a suggestion. It is to be carved in stone: “You shall write on the stones all the words of this law very clearly.” While the churches continue to argue over who’s allowed to be at the table, and who’s included in the story, God’s law “very clearly” draws is toward gratitude and sharing. That is who we are, and what we are called to do.

Additional reflection for Racial Justice Sunday
by Elizabeth Leung

Additional reflection on Luke 4: 1-13

How is the Temptation of Jesus relevant to themes that can be preached on a Racial Justice Sunday?[1] Commentaries often point out the obvious objects of temptation: food, glory and protection. For Lent, not a few interpretations suggest that the followers of Jesus should imitate his resistance. While Jesus’ triumph (with the rapid deployment of Scriptures) can be readily pointed out, preachers may anticipate in their audience some struggles with the story.

In the first temptation, Jesus seemed to have the power of turning stones into bread, after forty days of fasting, but resisted doing so. If this means that we were to resist seeking after material things, would it be easier for those who don’t have to worry about them? In the current context of income inequality, many worry about the future of providing food, clothing and shelter for themselves and their families. Such human needs for the material hardly rise up to the level of temptation, do they?

In the second temptation, Jesus was offered the opportunity of world domination. Many in our congregations are just trying to keep a job, or to find a job, or are practically one paycheck away from poverty. Most people are not in positions of prestige that the temptation of authority and glory is clear and imminent. Maybe some of us have hoped for a bit more, like finding satisfaction in our work. Would that amount to the temptation of glory?

Racial justice is the systemic fair treatment of all people that results in equal opportunities and outcomes for everyone. Opportunities and outcomes like freedom from hunger, police violence, predatory lending, environmental pollution, disproportionate incarceration, and freedom to access housing, employment, healthcare, public education, equal protection under the law. In the language of Christian faith (Gen. 1:27; James 2:14-17), it is the action of honoring the image of God in all.

Our human needs for physical sustenance, for livelihood and for personal security are not temptations that Jesus resisted in honor of God. Our temptation in the face of persistent racial inequities is to continue living as if we are the only ones deserving of getting those needs met. By doing nothing and remaining complacent with public policies that perpetuate systemic racism, all of us are effectively supporting the continuing disfiguration of the image of God in those around us.

[1] Preachers who are hesitant in using texts other than Genesis 1:27 and Galatians 3:28 to teach about racism can refer to Racializing Jesus by Shawn Kelley, Race and Theology by Elaine A. Robinson, Racism and God-Talk by Rubén Rodríguez, Christology and Whiteness edited by George Yancy.

Lectionary texts

Deuteronomy 26:1-11

When you have come into the land that the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance to possess, and you possess it, and settle in it, you shall take some of the first of all the fruit of the ground, which you harvest from the land that the Lord your God is giving you, and you shall put it in a basket and go to the place that the Lord your God will choose as a dwelling for his name. You shall go to the priest who is in office at that time, and say to him, “Today I declare to the Lord your God that I have come into the land that the Lord swore to our ancestors to give us.”

When the priest takes the basket from your hand and sets it down before the altar of the Lord your God, you shall make this response before the Lord your God: “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in number, and there he became a great nation, mighty and populous. When the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, by imposing hard labor on us, we cried to the Lord, the God of our ancestors; the Lord heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression. The Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with a terrifying display of power, and with signs and wonders; and he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. So now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground that you, O Lord, have given me.” You shall set it down before the Lord your God and bow down before the Lord your God. Then you, together with the Levites and the aliens who reside among you, shall celebrate with all the bounty that the Lord your God has given to you and to your house.

Psalm 91:1-2, 9-16

You who live in the shelter of the Most High,
    who abide in the shadow of the Almighty,
    will say to God,

“My refuge and my fortress;
    my God, in whom I trust.”

Because you have made the Lord your refuge,
the Most High your dwelling place,
no evil shall befall you,
no scourge come near your tent.

For God will command God’s angels
concerning you
to guard you in all your ways.

On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.

You will tread on the lion and the adder,
the young lion and the serpent
you will trample under foot.

Those who love me, I will deliver;
    I will protect those who know my name.

When they call to me, I will answer them;
    I will be with them in trouble,
    I will rescue them and honor them.

With long life I will satisfy them,
and show them my salvation.

Romans 10:8b-13

“The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart” (that is, the word of faith that we proclaim); because if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For one believes with the heart and so is justified, and one confesses with the mouth and so is saved. The scripture says, “No one who believes in him will be put to shame.” For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him. For, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

Luke 4:1-13

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.'”

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.” Jesus answered him, “It is written,
     ‘Worship the Lord your God,
         and serve only him.'”
Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written,
    ‘He will command his angels concerning you,
       to protect you,’
and
   ‘On their hands they will bear you up,
       so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.'”

Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'” When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.

Notes on the Lectionary and Liturgical Colors
by the Rev. Susan Blain, Curator for Worship and Liturgical Arts (blains@ucc.org)
Faith Formation Ministry, Local Church Ministries, United Church of Christ

The use of colors to differentiate liturgical seasons is a custom in use among some Western churches for hundreds of years. Although the custom of using colors is an ancient one, there has not always been agreement on what the colors should be. The Council of Trent in 1570, a Roman Catholic response to the Reformation, codified the colors for the Roman Catholic Church. When we talk about “traditional” colors today, we usually are referring to that codification. There were four basic colors in that codification: purple (penitence), red (Spirit or Martyrs memorials), green (long season after Pentecost) and white (festivals). Other colors, or no color at all, were acceptable variants in some regions.

The Reformation of course was a watershed for Christian ritual practice. Anglican and Lutheran churches often used some form of liturgical colors; however, the Reformed tradition of churches, where the UCC falls, for the most part did away with the custom of using colors, opting for much more simplicity. During the ecumenical liturgical movement of the mid-20th Century, Protestant churches began to look back at some of the ritual and colorful practices of the past with an eye toward reclaiming them to help give expression to feeling, tone, and imagery underlying the lectionary stories.

Before the Reformation’s iconoclasm, and Trent’s code, practices varied from place to place, often depending on what was available. Indeed, in some places the custom was to organize vestments into practical categories of “best,” “second best,” and “everyday” — not depending on the color at all. For Christmas and Easter the “best” vestments were used, no matter the color! Other, less prominent feasts or Sundays got “second best” or “everyday.”

So, here is a challenge to worship planners: Take it upon yourselves to develop and expand the “received” tradition!