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 May 29, 2025
****** “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.” I’m not sure if it’s true, but George Lucas, the creator of Star Wars, is credited as popularizing a big change in film production: not having opening credits. Instead of old Westerns and black and white films that began by naming the director, producer, key stars and so on, Lucas began the Star Wars films with the very famous line: “ A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away .” And then came the opening “crawl” that sets up the viewer for the story to come: "It is a period of civil war. Rebel spaceships, striking from a hidden base, have won their first victory against the evil Galactic Empire..." And so it sets up the story of Luke, Leia and Han Solo. Well, I want to suggest this morning that here in Acts 1 we have the opening words and “crawl” to the Book as a whole. And what sets the scene? Jesus’ ascension. *** In Acts 1, Luke recaps from where his gospel left off in Luke 24, with similar talk of the spread of gospel to the ends of the earth, that his disciples will be his witnesses, and his instruction to wait for the promise of God to come that is His Spirit, as well as, of course, Jesus’ ascent into heaven. But the Acts version has a specific focus: repeatedly mention the watching and looking of the disciples, the taking and lifting up of Jesus and the repeated mention of his destination: heaven. So why this attention in Acts' “opening crawl”? How does this set the scene for the story of the church that is told in Acts and continues today? Well, in contrast to the first victory in the opening of Star Wars, perhaps preparing for more victories to come, the Ascension grounds us in the defining, cosmic-shaping victory of Jesus that began with his resurrection and conlcudes with his exaltation in the spiritual world. Echoing Daniel 7, Jesus is taken up on a cloud, the chariot of the warrior-God, and is now enthroned to rule in heaven. The work of the church is done in light of this all-encompassing victory that has already been won. Christ is already King. But it’s not only that. Often we talk about Jesus’ ascension from a human perspective: his physical departure from earth. Here the disciples see for themselves Jesus’ exaltation and the opening of heaven: they are gripped by it. Through Christ’s entrance into and rule in heaven, he is made more readily available to us on earth. T he work of the church is done by living in a new space that recognises this opening of heaven: consider God’s promised Holy Spirit who comes in Acts 2, how angels appear here and throughout Acts, as well as people being healed, delivered from evil spirits, miracles taking place and people coming to faith . The spiritual realm is breaking in. So, this Thursday of 5th week, with deadlines, looming exams and soon-to-come ordinations: where will we look? Will we stare upwards and wonder where Jesus went? Or will we look outwards, and live in the light of the one who rules the heavens and has opened heaven to us, and for whom we wait to rule the earth as well? ******
By Suse McBay May 13, 2025
*** True Colours I was in a situation a few years ago where someone I trusted and expected to act in a certain way didn’t do so. In fact, they did they did the opposite. It hurt. It hurt because there were consequences that affected me, but it also hurt because I thought I knew the person, that I knew how’d they’d respond to pressure. When the rubber hits the road and things get real. Instead, their true colours emerged, and I was wrong. Who I thought this person was, and who they told me they were, was in reality quite different from who they actually proved themselves to be . The specifics aren’t for posting online, but I’m sure you can relate. Most of us can recall some kind of experience of someone we love, someone whose character we trust, letting us down. Someone who you might have believed in—maybe even defended to other people—choosing to do something that shows they weren’t worthy of that trust. Showing that your assessment of them was, essentially, quite different from the reality of who they are. They lacked integrity. Esther’s Example This term at Wycliffe, my colleague John is teaching his way through the book of Esther for the Bible expositions in chapel. Now the book of Esther famously doesn’t even mention God: so what is its purpose? Well, in part (as my colleague has been discussing), it’s a book about wisdom. Will we learn from the wise in the story: Esther (and Mordecai)? Will learn from the foolish: King Ahasuerus? The wicked: Haman? At the start of the book, Esther is a young, timid woman, who’d been through a lot. She was orphan and had been raised by her uncle. But she shows willingness and some social savviness and does what Mordecai tells her to do. By the end of the book she’s bold and courageous. Yes, she knows how to play the political game, but she does so in order to stand up for her people who are being persecuted by Persian imperial policy. She exposes Haman’s duplicitousness. Esther has a remarkable integrity and commitment to who she is and what she values. She is willing to risk her life to stand up for what is right, even knowing the cost. She has integrity. Her insides match her outsides as her character develops through the book. When We Fail Stephen and I go to a large Anglican church in the centre of Oxford. A couple of weeks ago, we had a visiting preacher (who is also a poet and philosopher) preaching about baptism. In the course of his sermon, he reminded us that who we really are is who we are when no-one is watching. And that Jesus died for us, knowing exactly what we do when the curtains are closed and no-one can see us. Again, it speaks to integrity—and that Jesus has come to deal with it. If everyone else thinks I’m a model Christian, but at home, by myself, I’m angry, compulsive, critical, selfish or greedy, the latter is a far more honest assessment of who I am and needs some spiritual help. It exposes a lack of integrity: I have an exterior self who looks one way, but an interior self (that I hide away) that looks quite another. What will happen when the pressure is on? That interior self will come out, one way or another. The good news is Jesus went to the Cross, even for that interior self. And with his help I can be forgiven, heal and become whole. That’s in part what baptism symbolises: me dying to all that ugliness and ungodliness. Naming it, owing it and leaving it with Jesus at the Cross, and then rising to a new life that where my insides match my outsides. A person of integrity. Learn from the Wise: Daniel 11-12 But what of the original situation: when others we trusted in and believed in have let us down? I’ve been teaching my way through the book of Daniel and its been fascinating to muse on this topic. Daniel 7-12 describe a series of visionary experiences that give God’s perspective on the political problems and extreme religious oppression that led to the Maccabean revolt in the 160s BC. These were largely due to the decisions of the Antiochus IV who was on the throne of the Hellenistic empire, a Greek of Seleucid descent. You can read about Antiochus IV in 1 and 2 Maccabees, but the snapshot version is that he installed puppet high priests in the Temple at Jerusalem, looted it for money to fuel his military campaigns, outlawed the Torah (including Sabbath observance and circumcision) and, most egregiously, desecrated the Temple with pig sacrifices and an altar to Zeus. These orders resulted in many faithful Jews having to try and keep Torah secretly. When discovered, those who had done so were public shamed and then executed (e.g. 2 Macc 6:10). It was miserable existence (2 Macc 6:9). Antiochus IV’s diabolical political rule was one thing, but the book of Daniel also wrestles with this: what do we do when our religious leaders let us down? When their outsides don’t match their insides? When we discover they are white-washed tombs (Matt 23:27)? The high priest and many other religious establishment figures were swayed by Antiochus IV at the expense of their loyalty to the Lord Most High. Daniel 11 and 12 in particular speak to this situation. Daniel 11:32 says that Antiochus will “seduce with intrigue those who violate the covenant” in contrast to “the people who are loyal to their God.” A few verses later we learn why: “Those who acknowledge him [Antiochus] he shall make more wealthy, and shall appoint them as rulers over many, and shall distribute the land for a price” (v.39). Antiochus used his power and means to get what he wanted, and those who showed more fidelity to him than to the God of Israel, got to share in that wealth themselves. So, what is Daniel’s answer to when the stewards of God’s covenant and teachers of God’s law reveal their true colours? When their words and who they’ve said they are don’t match up with who they have shown themselves to be? When those around us lack integrity, what are we to do? Well, it’s not to keep hanging on and believing in religious leaders who have proven themselves to be corrupted by political power (they are destined for shame and contempt, Dan 12:2). Daniel’s suggestion is to fix our eyes elsewhere instead: “ The wise among the people shall give understanding to many; for some days, however, they shall fall by sword and flame, and suffer captivity and plunder. ” (Daniel 11:33) Look to the wise. Look to those with understanding. Come to understand for yourselves. But this is not an easy answer. For these are the folk that get into trouble. Who perish by the sword. They don’t look like winners. This is perhaps why Daniel’s own response to the visions is one of weakness, fear and trembling. To understand and see reality for what it is can be deeply disturbing. In Daniel, understanding revolves around knowing God is God of all and all kings should have limits to their power. Even when kings like Antiochus IV trample on what is sacred, and transgress into the holy of holies—divine space—God through his angels is contending with powers beyond human ones and will bring all to judgement. But the waiting in the meantime will not be easy or pain-free. That’s why the promise of resurrection is so important in Daniel 12: it’s reassurance for the faithful—for the wise—to keep going. It is they who will be raised and will be like angels: "Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever." (Dan. 12:3) When those we’ve trusted and believed in fail us, God is at work. There may not be easy answers, and sitting with the reality of betrayal is painful, but God is not done yet. Sometimes what is happening is part of a much bigger, cosmic picture and God will intervene. Others’ words and actions may not line up, but ours can. Our insides can match our outsides and our words match our actions. With God’s help we too can become “ people who are loyal to their God ,” those who “ shall stand firm and take action. ” (Dan. 11:32) ****** Cover picture: John Everett Millais, Esther, 1863–65, Oil on canvas, 77.4 x 106 cm, Private Collection

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