Our Lenten Survivor Episode Deuteronomy 26:1-11, Romans 10:5-13, Luke 4:1-13 February 29, 2004, Year C Lent 1 The Rev. William V. Livingston, Rector Church of the Resurrection, Starkville, Mississippi A parishioner recently admitted she was such a Survivor fan that she feared the Super Bowl would preempt Super Survivors. Reality shows such as Survivor dominate the network broadcasting. I imagine most of us think of the Survivor series as a 21st century creation. But, think again. Consider today's Gospel text. Is this not a 1st century Survivor episode? Like a World Wrestling Federation match or a Survivor episode, it's hard to tell where reality and hyperbole begin and end. John, the wild, camel hair clad zealot seems like a good choice to be the "Survivor," but he not only steps down but instead anoints his cousin Jesus. However, the profound call is followed by the profound challenge. Emerging from the Jordan River, Jesus walks, full of God, full of God's Spirit, into the wild wilderness out of which John had come. As all Survivor fans know, wilderness provides the trials and tribulations for testing someone's mettle. Deprived of the comfort of water, food, and warmth, the wilderness tests Jesus' spiritual muscles. But what's a good reality series without a mole? Temptation never comes in the form of a foe but always in the form of an apparent allie, and a new character appears in this episode, offering Jesus a way to win without risks, without pain. Such characters are always sly: playing into the other's vulnerability. So, he offers to assuage Jesus' universal fears and desires. For the scarcity mentality of the world, he tells Jesus to eliminate his hunger by turning these rocks into bread. Everybody wants power, it's yours for the asking. Oh yes, of course you want some fame, go ahead, get everyone's attention by jumping off the pinnacle of the temple. But as with any really good mole, these really aren't the test. There wasn't three tests, there was only one: "If you are who you are by your baptism, then . . ." Luke provides us very vivid images, and we might be tempted to think, "What a great story and didn't Jesus give very clever answers, but what could this passage really say to us?" We might be tempted to wonder if we're ever really full of the Holy Spirit, and we might not be able to imagine ever being offered a look at all the kingdoms of the world in an instant. Unlike modern day Survivor episodes and other reality shows which have nothing to do with reality, this lukan text, as do all Gospel accounts, not only reveal insights into God via the earthly life of Jesus, but they also reveal to us how to be fully human. So, what does this passage have to offer us? Actually, quite a lot, because the realities of fullness and emptiness, grace and temptation, are very much a part of all our lives. Jesus' wilderness experience wasn't a Survivor episode; it was an intensely personal time of soul-searching in which the temptations that we face daily had a visible form. If we consider the devil in this lukan narration to be a terrifying being, we are mistaken. Temptation comes not in the form of wanting to do physical harm to another or to rob a bank. No, it comes in forms of allowing others to do violence or to steal on our behalf and to pretend we don't know it. It comes in the form of our scarcity mentality, a hunger, that convinces us it's okay for us to pay a few dollars less for merchandise made in third world sweat shops, or for us with medical insurance to ignore the millions who don't. It comes in the form of unquestionably accepting the privileges that come with our power. In the wilderness story it happens so subtly we can almost miss the fact that when the devil offers Jesus all the kingdoms of the world, they were apparently his to give. So the temptation is to deny that no matter how vehemently we claim to be a Christian nation and no matter which party is in power of the White House or Congress, power is incompatible with the kingdom of God. Temptation comes in the form of a palatable offer: "Power, wealth, satisfaction, there's nothing wrong with that, everybody wants it." For us as with Jesus, there is really only the one temptation, "If you are . . . then . . ." If you are the good parent you claim to be, then buy your child's love. It's easier than being there in the hard times. If you are the kind sensitive person you believe you are, then stay in that adulterous relationship rather than do the hard work of staying in your marriage. If you are the leader others so admire, then it's okay to harm others on your way to acquiring power. We, thus, deny our identity and forget our baptismal realities. Often these temptations fly in under our spiritual radars because they don't look evil; they look like something good. It takes spiritual discernment to realize that something I eagerly want and pursue may actually destroy or weaken my relationship with God and those I love and especially those I avoid loving. One of the reasons we're given a Gospel passage on the temptation of Jesus at the beginning of each Lent is to remind us that the church encourages us to use Lent as a time to do this kind of reflective discernment. If we truly do this, it is hard. It is painful. We have become so accustomed to accepting the subtle temptations, to be without them is like someone addicted to painkillers whose prescription has just run out. I dare say almost all of us are addicted to something, whether it is eating, shopping, blaming or taking care of other people. Our addictions, our temptations are fed by our yearnings to belong, to be loved and to love, to make a difference, to endure - even beyond death. The simplest definition of an addiction is anything we use to fill the empty place inside of us that belongs to God alone. Lent invites us to encounter the world without anesthesia, to find out what life is like with no comfort but God. That hollowness we sometimes feel is not a sign of something gone wrong. It is the holy of holies inside of us, the locked room with God of Ash Wednesday. Nothing on earth can fill it, but that does not stop us from trying. Whenever we start feeling too empty inside, we stick our pacifiers into our mouths and suck for all we are worth. They do not nourish us, but at least they plug the hole. However, love revealed in Jesus, shaped and tested by the forty-day discipline of Lent, has for generations called us to our own vocations. While each person must discover (or uncover) specific meanings of God's call, all share the baptismal certainties: you are God's child;you are God's delight; you are God's love. If we will do this, God surprises us by bringing transforming love through Christ's incarnating presence. A surprising paradox reveals God's continual presence using sacrifice, suffering, and even death as the media through which we find love, wholeness, and life. God uses that which we avoid to provide that which we most deeply desire. The Good News is that God actively engages our lives, sending us wake up calls, one after another. Once we entertain the possibility that God dwells within each of us, then we too can choose. We can choose to listen for the love, seek the love, and allow the love of God to awaken within us The season Lent invites us into our own Survivor episode of true reality, to go into our wilderness with the Holy Spirit who helps us confront the hard times, and supports us as we turn again to living the life God calls us to live. So, please consider using this Lent to bring opportunities to awaken to God's love. Show up for prayer and participate in worship. Dare to trust that you have God at the center of your being. Dare to ask, seek, and find Love within. Dare to risk praying. Pray - not with wordy, noisy, chattering instructions to God - but with the kind of praying that sits in quiet, expectant listening, watching and waiting for your awakening to love's reality. Pray with your soul's ears, instead of your mind's chatter. Learn through your personal experience that you have within you God's still, small voice.