Welcome to Lent, forty days of reflection, self examination, “coming back to ourselves.” That’s a description of it I heard this week, which I liked. I am a believer in paring down life this time of year as far as we’re able. Going without isn’t a punishment; it’s a gift. A chance to reset. Remember what matters. A chance to be mindful of how cluttered our lives and minds can get when we’re just going about our normal life. I know some of you grew up in other Christian traditions, and (not all, but many) have this idea that Lent is punishing; like the Church wants us to be miserable for the next forty days, nevermind why.
It’s not that way. Lent is a gift. The more complex the world gets, the more appreciative I am of this chance to really examine how we spend our time, what we reach for in the empty moments, what we’re hiding or denying because, with enough distraction and clutter, we can.
Our church helps us in the observance of a Holy Lent. We try here at St. James to pare down, just as we encourage you to do. Sundays for the next five weeks will be simpler, and we have reminders of this all around--in our wooden altar cross and candles, the unbleached linen vestments worn by the clergy. There are no baptisms in Lent; we don’t say the “A word” (remember!). It’s meant to be distinct from the rest of the year, to help us focus more on why it is we’re here, and what being a person of faith means.
At the announcements I’ll say more about what programs we have that you may want to take part in this Lent. But again, the tone for the season is simple, and pared back.
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After his baptism, 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.
How well do you know the devil? I won't ask for a show of hands, don’t worry. Though I bet we all think we know what the answer to that should be.
It’s surprising in the Gospels how often Jesus interacts with the devil, or demons. They see him coming, they call out his name--they know his name. They even call him “Son of God” before anyone else.
People in the Gospels perceived Jesus as being on intimate terms with the devil. Last week I had to write a meditation for the diocesan Lenten journal for clergy, and in the passage they gave me from John’s Gospel, the people Jesus is talking with accuse him of “having a demon” because of the things he says and teaches.
In Mark, the religious authorities accuse Jesus of being one and the same as “Beelzebub,” another name for Satan. To which he replies “How can Satan cast out Satan,” defending himself against this accusation that he himself was actually the devil. Devils talk to him, sass him, recognize him. They know his name.
If these things weren’t known widely to have been said of Jesus in his day, the Gospel writers probably would have discreetly dropped some of them. But because they were known, people would have noticed had they been left out. At least that’s one theory of Biblical scholars.
But it’s also the case that the devil, or the adversary, or demons, or whatever you want to call the force that pulls us away from the good, is a necessary companion in the spiritual life. There is no such thing (in any faith that I’m aware of, and definitely not Christianity) as a spiritual life that can progress without being on intimate terms with (1) the wilderness, those places of desperation and desolation; and (2) the forces of evil--devils, demons, Satan.
Both appear in our reading for today, always the same on this first Sunday in Lent: Jesus’ temptation (or test) in the wilderness. Like Moses and Elijah before him, he spends forty days in the desert fasting and praying. Along comes “the devil”--not at that point the little red guy with horns and a pitchfork that he’d later become in Christian tradition, but almost like another person. In Jungian (or psychoanalytic) terms, we might say, a shadow side of Jesus himself. The devil tempts him with reasonable suggestions: relieve your hunger, get people to admire you, demonstrate your trust in God. He even quotes Scripture, Psalm 91, our Psalm for today: “Throw yourself down, lest you dash your foot against a stone.”
These are all in fact the temptations Jesus would encounter over and over in countless interactions throughout his short ministry: to spare people (and himself) of their suffering, to impress and fulfill others’ expectations. This isn’t a one-and-done trial. The devil leaves him “until an opportune time.” And Jesus being fully human like us, there are many opportune times for those temptations to rear their ugly heads, again and again.
In our confirmation class Sunday evenings we’re just now studying the Gospels, and one of the things I try to impress upon the kids is that Jesus was not someone who floated above the cares of the world, he engaged them, more than most people around him were willing to do. Holy people are holy not because they’ve had the sheer good luck of living a life free of worry or hardship, but because they’ve learned, through facing their fears, to be no longer afraid of them. Jesus goes out into the wilderness; when the devil tries to talk to him, he listens. He responds.
The holier the person, the better acquainted they are with their demons.
Henri Nouwen, spiritual writer and priest, wrote a book, The Genesee Diary based on the seven months he spent in a monastery in upstate New York--I think I’ve referred to this work before. In his regular life as a teacher, priest, and spiritual mentor he was getting angry at people. (That’s not a good look for a priest!) Part of his reason for retreating to the monastery was to examine this. In one diary entry early on, he writes:
“In the contemplative life every conflict, inner or outer, small or large, can be seen as the tip of an iceberg, the expressive part of something deeper and larger. It is worthwhile, even necessary, to explore that which is underneath the surface of our daily actions, thoughts, and feelings. The most persistent advice of John Eudes [that’s Nouwen’s spiritual director] is to explore the wounds, to pay attention to the feelings, which are often embarrassing and shameful, and follow them to their roots. He keeps telling me not to push away disturbing daydreams or hostile meanderings of the mind but to allow them to exist and explore them with care. Do not panic, do not start running, but take a careful look.”
So how well do you know the devil? That’s a question this first Sunday in Lent asks each of us. Jesus knew him well, as holy people do. We begin the season examining the darker corners of our hearts and minds, not afraid of what we’ll find, trusting the Spirit to guide us in this and all ways, on this spiritual journey, of Lent.