The Desert, Jesus & Temptation

February 14, 2024

My first sermon at the Wycliffe Hall Tuesday Communion service. Given on February 13th, 2024 on the theme of "desert." My chosen readings were Matthew 4:1-11 and Deuteronomy 8:1-10.


A couple of years ago, my husband and I drove around the western half of the USA and spent some time driving through the desert of Nevada. Far from petrol station, mobile coverage, other drivers or any kind of civilization, it is a long way from nowhere. While we were in a truck—with a full tank of petrol—there was still that awareness that if something were to go wrong, in the desert it would go very wrong indeed.


The desert is a tough place to be. It is a hard and it is a testing place.


Psalm 107 echoes this reality. It tells of God’s deliverance that from various troubles—not least the perils of the wilderness. “Some wandered in desert wastes, finding no way to an inhabited town; hungry and thirsty, their souls fainted within them.

 

It is a place without easy access to food or drink. It does not have the security of a city wall or any kind of place to securely lay down for the night. It is rough and dangerous terrain.


In a similar way that going “into the woods” in a fairy tale usually indicates some kind of foreboding—we might think of Little Red Riding Hood’s encounter with the wolf or Hansel and Gretel’s discovery of an ominous house made of bread—the desert in Christian history clues us in to a difficult time. On the Day of Atonement, it is where the sin-bearing goat is sent—to the demon Azazel whose home is in the desert. In Isaiah 13 it is the wasteland that Babylon will become post-judgement: devoid of life and goodness, but filled with ominous and dark creatures.


Athanasius wrote of an aptly named “desert father” Antony of Egypt, who spent much of his life in spiritual battle in the desert, having sold all he had, ensuring the wellbeing of his younger sister and giving the rest to the poor. Antony went into the desert and so began some fierce spiritual battle.


Athanasius’ account of his life tells of various rounds of the struggle. First the temptations were more basic: to indulge in physical desires, his sexual impulses. To fold to the more basic stuff of our bodily existence. The craving for connection and intimacy. The impulses themselves weren’t enough so the devil came before him taking an alluring female form. Later there were rounds of physical assault and injury. At other times, the devil tried to lure Antony in with gold coins and a silver platter. After multiple rounds, eventually God delivers Antony from his struggle.


And Antony responds with a startlingly honest question for God. Why didn’t you come sooner!? Why didn’t you do something before my body was broken and near to being extinguished? To my ears (at least), that’s a reasonable question!


God’s answer? “I was here Anthony, but I waited to watch your struggle. And now, since you persevered and were not defeated, I will be your helper forever…


Anthony, like the Israelites after their liberation from Egypt, faced testing and humbling in the desert. Why? To learn how to trust in the bread that comes from the mouth of the Lord. To persevere. To remain steadfast.


***


The desert is a place of testing. As it was for Jesus in Matthew 4. Jesus is taken out into the wilderness by the Spirit. Why? To be tested by the devil. Forty days without food or water, in difficult and risky terrain, at the end of which Jesus is spent. He is famished. And right on cue, the devil shows up.


And the devil’s strategy really revolves around one thing: his identity: “If you are the Son of God…


The reading Matthew picks up just after Jesus has just been baptized. Matthew describes the extraordinary scene that speaks to the significance of this man who’s appeared with John. Crowds witness it. They see the heavens torn open, hear the words of divine affirmation. But now, that glorious moment has gone, and Jesus is now alone and hungry, with the devil looking to trip him up.

 

And in contrast to the Israelites in the wilderness after their own ‘baptism’ through the Red Sea: Jesus succeeds where they failed. In each temptation, Jesus does straightforwardly what the Israelites could not do: trust God’s provision of food, trust God for his safety and trust God for authority. And all in God’s timing.


***


The First Temptation

Where Israel had to be taught and learn to “understand that one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD” -- Jesus does not. The devil goads him to provide for himself. We know Jesus will go on miraculously provide food to his followers—so why not do so for himself?


The text doesn’t give us what was going on in Jesus’ mind. But it does tell us this was not really about food. "If you are the Son of God…" This was an invitation for Jesus to prove his identity, by a providing a miracle.


But I suspect Jesus recognises where he is—the desert—and who he’s talking to—the devil. And a time of testing is not over when we say it’s over. It’s over when God’s faithfulness is revealed. When he provides in our waiting. Think of Job’s spiritual desert and suffering. A waiting that culminates in God’s revelation of himself.


The Second Temptation

The devil then turns to challenge Jesus’ sense of safety. Quoting Psalm 91, the devil invites Jesus: throw yourself down. Prove that God will rescue you. Prove that He cares.

         

How easy it might be to self-justify at this point. For Scripture does say indeed say “He will command his angels concerning you.” But Jesus is not persuaded by the devil’s misuse of God’s word. Again he quotes Deuteronomy, “Do not put the LORD your God to the test.” (Deut 6:16) Like the Israelites who did so at Massah.


Jesus is the one facing testing—he is not the one to test God.


The Third Temptation

Lastly then lastly the devil gets down to brass tacks. He makes a direct appeal: worship me and I’ll give you power and influence. Don’t worship God. Switch loyalties. In essence: be my son, not God’s. Do what Israel so often did in its history: renounce your loyalty and increase your status.


But Jesus engages with equal directness: “Depart, Satan.” Deceiver. I know you.


Again he quotes from Deuteronomy: “Worship the Lord the your God and serve Him only.


And so the devil departs. And then angels come and minister to Jesus.


***


So what are we to make of Jesus’ steadfast and unwavering fidelity to God? Are we to shore up the same resolve for us, gird up our spiritual loins and strive for such holiness ourselves when we find we have been plunged into the desert?


And plunged we might be. Stephen and I chose to drive through the desert of Nevada. Anthony of Egypt chose to go into the desert. But that’s not always the case. Sometimes a time of testing can appear from nowhere: a spouse walking out, a betrayal, a long-held hope and dream finally proves itself untenable. The expectation of what we think ministry is going to look like—versus what it actually is. Sometimes it’s a severe break, an obvious crisis moment, other times it’s the culmination of countless small injuries. Something that breaks us out of our civilised, safe, inhabited worlds into the rugged and unknown deserts where who we were and who we thought God was, is suddenly up for grabs.


As Anthony of Egypt and Orthodox spirituality in general is rather good at reminding us: there is a very real battle to be fought. It is not without reason that 1 Peter 5:8 beckons us:


Discipline yourselves; keep alert. Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour.


We are beckoned to bed down into the truth of who we are in Christ. To stand firm.


But let’s not fool ourselves into thinking for a minute that resolve and strength in the face of temptation is what really matters. It is imperative. It is indeed necessary. But none of us can face the devil down and win.


Except. For. Christ.


The same one who was tempted in the desert, was tested also in Gethsemane and surrendered on the Cross. He could have called a host of angels to deliver him, but he did not do so. He waited for the resurrection.


The devil offered Jesus a shortcut: worship me and I’ll give you the kingdoms of the world. But Matthew 28—at the other end of the book—tells us Jesus got the kingdoms of the world and more—without ever having to forsake his God, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” Not only does Jesus now have authority over all of the earthly kingdoms, but all of the heavens too—including the devil himself.


Anthony of Egypt, in one bout of particular spiritual battle, lay wiped out from the enemy’s assaults. His body had been ravaged by demons who had taken the form of wild beasts. And then the account of his life says this:


“[Antony] groaned because of the pain felt in his body, but being in control of his thoughts and as if mocking them [the demons], he said: “If there were some power among you, it would have been enough for only one of you to come. But since the Lord has broken your strength, you attempt to terrify me by any means with the mob; it is a mark of your weakness that you mimic the shapes of irrational beasts.”


“If you are able, and you did receive authority over me, don’t hold back, but attack. But if you are unable, why, when it is vain, do you disturb me? For faith in our Lord is for us a seal and a wall of protection.”


If and when we find ourselves in the desert, out of the familiarity and security of our lives as we know them. Perhaps faltering on who we are. Maybe wondering where God is. While we have our part to play in holding onto the promise and truth of what God has done for us and who we are in Him, make no mistake:


We will prevail, not because of our spiritual prowess or anything special about you or me. But because the Enemy has already been defeated. His power has been broken. By the One who has faced the very same temptations and is now seated—with all authority—at the right hand of God.




******


By Suse McBay March 17, 2026
Are you 100% sure about that? Last December, Stephen and I headed for Prague for a few days. We were looking forward to Christmas markets, mulled wine, and shopping. Because we had booked a really early flight, we decided to stay in an airport hotel the night before. We hadn’t banked on one thing though: how to get from the bus station at Heathrow to the hotel. We could see our destination towering ahead of us as we exited the coach, but there was no reliable way to get there on foot. Much like Houston, navigating the surface roads of Heathrow is much easier for those in a car. So, we asked for directions from one of the airport staff. She pointed us over to two elevators, sat right next to each other. One had a line of at least twenty people. The other one had none. Those at the front of the queue hadn’t even pressed the button. That seemed strange and indicated that perhaps the people in line didn’t know what they were doing—or weren’t used to London airports. But why was one line so long and the other non-existent? The signs above weren’t exactly clear, but here were two lifts side-by-side, surely they went to the same place? Towards the back of the line was a middle-aged man, surrounded by luggage and family, who realised what we were trying to puzzle out. “Nah, you can’t use it. The other lift doesn’t go down. Doesn’t go to the same place,” he told us. We looked at him quizzically. “Are you sure?” we asked. “ One hundred percent , mate. One hundred percent.” The certainty with which he declared his answer was persuasive. He crowed like he was the CEO of the airport. That lift would not go where the other one was going. He repeated himself again. 100%. Only, he was wrong. We risked looking like fools. We walked to the vacant elevator, hit the button, and—lo and behold!—an elevator appeared that went to the exact same location as the other. The middle-aged man surrounded by luggage was 100%... in the wrong. Utterly and completely. *** Words, words, words, but no wisdom I don’t personally know the man who so-confidently revealed his wrongness. I’ve no idea whether his bluster was out of character from his usual self. But in the moment of our encounter, he acted every bit the ‘fool’ we find in Book of Proverbs: "A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing personal opinion." (Proverbs 18:2) There is much wisdom in Proverbs 17:28: Even fools who keep silent are considered wise; when they close their lips, they are deemed intelligent. It seems to me that we live in a world saturated with words, whether written or spoken. There’s an ever-growing number of websites, social media platforms, podcasts, and so on. Even more so now with AI. Yet for all this verbal abundance, there does not seem to be any more wisdom than there used to be. I would argue with AI, there seems to be less (or perhaps it’s simply exposing our foolishness). Part of me wonders about the virtue of writing a blog, when these are so often half-thoughts, explorations, and ideas: am I just adding to the plethora of opinions that exist on the blogosphere? Last year, I was teaching on how to plan and lead funerals with our final year ordinands. I spoke with confidence about what works and what doesn’t. What the role of the cleric is, how to work with the grieving family, how to craft the sermon, what to do afterwards etc. It felt good to be able to give real, lived experience having worked in a church for a decade. But it was only during the Q&A when I realized something. I realized my confidence was borne of a very specific context: I ministered in a large, Episcopal church in Houston, Texas. Not a small parish church, somewhere remote in England. Did the wisdom and experience I bring still have value in the Church of England, where the Church is an established one? Where those who minister do among many people who don’t dare to cross the threshold of a religious building except in such moments of life and death? Now I happen to think it does; but only with some qualification. For what I realized in that moment is that it’s not quite as readily transferable as I’d assumed. Church cultures are different. Expectations are different. How people respond and react to their local vicar is different! What works in one scenario doesn’t necessarily work in another. Consider Proverbs 26:4-5: 4 Do not answer fools according to their folly, or you will be a fool yourself. 5 Answer fools according to their folly, or they will be wise in their own eyes. Proverbs 26 has a seeming contradiction that speaks to the importance of context. In the situation where you’re faced with someone spouting foolishness, what should you do? Speak or not speak? Engage or not engage? The modern equivalent to v.4 might be to say to yourself “not my monkeys, not my circus” and walk away. But what about the times when it is your circus? When they are your monkeys? What about when to walk away is to leave someone blind to their mistakes and doomed to make more? What if responding might feasibly help someone see beyond their own blinkers and make a different choice? Sometimes v.4 might be the path of wisdom. Other times it’s v.5. But it’s not always apparent which is which. Overconfidence is not just dangerous for making us look like fools or giving bad advice. If we stay in our certitude, we miss the heart of the issue revealed in these two verses: we need wisdom. So where do we find it? *** Does ‘wisdom come with age’? I’ve heard it said that ‘wisdom comes with age’. Ironically enough, this line was used when I was in something of a disagreement with someone much older than me. But claiming moral high ground or superior understanding on the basis of some unalterable characteristic that you have but I don’t, is more indicative of pride than wisdom. If age does come with wisdom, there would be no conflict or disagreement within the human species as we age. If age is the sole arbiter, we should collectively do better as the wrinkles and grey hairs multiply. Yet that’s not what happens. Wisdom, sadly, is not inevitable. It can come with age because of one very simple reality: the more time you’ve had on the planet means you’ve had more opportunity to become wise. Now whether or not you’ve taken those opportunities is quite a different thing! *** Wisdom: a gift that needs seeking Proverbs has an interestingly balanced view of wisdom. It is (1) something that requires active seeking, yet also (2) something which only God can give. Proverbs 2:1-4 talks about the need to exert effort in acquisition of wisdom. It’s not something that just lands on our laps: it asks you to be open to learning and sitting with what you receive (v.1), deliberate and intentional in putting your body in a space to grow in it (v.2), and vocal in your search for it (v.3). In other words: humble, open, and hungry. This passage concludes by likening it to searching for silver or hidden treasure (v.4). Think about that for a moment: do you search for wisdom in the same way you seek out growth in income or asset? From a human wisdom point of view, seeking financial gain for our security and future as we age (and our children grow and go off to college etc) makes good sense. But what if we were to seek wisdom with the very same fervour? What if wisdom had the same significance for our spiritual security and future? What if it is important to our growth in the Christian life and readiness for what may come our way? It’s a gift that needs seeking. But Proverbs tells us it is also a gift that is given. Verse 6 reveals “ the LORD gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding .” Our seeking is not the whole picture. Longing for wisdom does not mean we get it. Wisdom is God’s domain not ours. Proverbs 8 illustrates that God’s Wisdom is not something to acquire or harvest. It is not a commodity to be doled out. It is not a consumer good. Wisdom was present when God made the world. Wisdom is a part of God’s self that chooses when to be imparted and when not to be (compare 1:28; 8:17; 9:5, 16) The very fabric of our material world is infused with the mystery of Wisdom. Insight and understanding comes from God and helps us to navigate the complexity of our lives, but this gift is just a glimpse of a much greater reality of the divine Wisdom which exists eternally. This, perhaps, brings us back to where I started. True wisdom is never found in loud proclamations of “one hundred percent!”. Why? Because the one who is wise recognises they have a lot to learn. They know that new information can shift and reframe yesterday’s certainty. Maybe the first step is to stop claiming absolute certainty—to stop the all-or-nothing thinking. Maybe we start with recognising what Paul talks about in 1 Corinthians 13: we only see in part, know in part, understand in part. And from there, we begin actively seeking that gift which only God—from His Wisdom—can give. Wisdom has built her house, she has hewn her seven pillars. 2 She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed her wine, she has also set her table. 3 She has sent out her servant-girls, she calls from the highest places in the town, 4 "You that are simple, turn in here!" To those without sense she says, 5 "Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. 6 Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight." Proverbs 9:1-6 ****** Photo © Copyright Derek Harper and licensed for reuse under a cc-by-sa/2.0 Creative Commons Licence.
By Suse McBay February 13, 2026
What do we do on days when God seems entirely absent? Some thoughts about where I see that in my life today and, looking back, recognising how much has changed.

Join us in Oxford in 2025!

Subscribe to

My Newsletter

Sign up here to receive quarterly updates (and occasional other news blasts) about how ministry is going and our move to the U.K.