Fighting Temptation: Where we find our strength

Every year we remember Jesus' temptation in the wilderness. This year, I have spotted some things I had missed before. First, Luke's account for reference; then some notes: 

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan, and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness ² for forty days, being tempted by the devil. He ate nothing in those days. Afterward, when they were completed, he was hungry. ³ The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become bread.”

⁴ Jesus answered him, saying, “It is written, ‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God.’”

⁵ The devil, leading him up on a high mountain, showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time. ⁶ The devil said to him, “I will give you all this authority, and their glory, for it has been delivered to me; and I give it to whomever I want. ⁷ If you therefore will worship before me, it will all be yours.”

⁸ Jesus answered him, “Get behind me Satan! For it is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God, and you shall serve him only.’”

⁹ He led him to Jerusalem, and set him on the pinnacle of the temple, and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, cast yourself down from here, ¹⁰ for it is written,

‘He will put his angels in charge of you, to guard you;’

¹¹ and,

‘On their hands they will bear you up,
    lest perhaps you dash your foot against a stone.’”

¹² Jesus answering, said to him, “It has been said, ‘You shall not tempt the Lord your God.’”

¹³ When the devil had completed every temptation, he departed from him until another time.  (Luke 4:1-13)

Jesus was fasting. The devil came at a time of weakness. He watches and waits for us to be isolated from help, weakened in our resolve, in need or in distress. If he roams like a lion looking for those to devour, he looks for a moment when we are vulnerable. We can expect him. 

The first temptation is a temptation of human flesh.
Satan tempted Jesus to strengthen himself in the face of his human weakness: hunger.
Jesus deflected the temptation with the Word of God, and had strength enough. 
When we can resist the temptations of the flesh it is good, but we can expect more temptations to come. 

The second temptation is a temptation of human spirit. 
Satan tempted Jesus to gain authority and splendor in a corrupt way: by bowing to Satan. 

Jesus deflected the temptation again with the Word of God, and had authority enough to deny the prince of this world. It is a hopeful thought what kind of power we have through the Word of God, that we can deny the dark prince of this world. In the face of temptation, we can stand our ground. It must bother the evil one that there are people walking this world who do not answer to him, who hold fast against him. Enjoy that for a moment, take satisfaction that by knowing the Word of God, we can thwart the plans that evil has against us: and give glory to God. God's word continues to be our strength.
When we can resist the temptations of the human spirit it is good, but the devil is not quite done trying. 

The third temptation is a specifically religious temptation. 

Satan tempted Jesus to act rashly to prove his faith in his Father: here Satan used Scripture against him. Satan turned God's word, our strength, into a trap. Jesus deflected the temptation again with the Word of God: that Word is enough, understood rightly. And there is no need to worry that the Scriptures are too much for us to know and find the right word: Jesus fended off the evil one from a single book (Deuteronomy). When the adversary uses Scripture too, we must know more than the words: we must know God. When we set our course to honor God, the devil flees. 

The devil does return in our times of weakness. We know where to find our strength. 

Observing Lent: "Do not let your heart be troubled"

Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust also in me. (John 14:1)

During Lent I usually observe some kind of self-reflection. For me, this year's focus will be addressing fear and worry. Lent may seem an odd time to address those things; it's at advent that we read about the Messiah's Angel announcing "Fear not!" Still, it was on the night in which he was betrayed that Jesus taught his disciples, "Do not let your hearts be troubled." 

There are a lot of troubling thing in the world. Besides the troubles that come to us naturally, there are those who amplify troubles, fears, and accusations for their own purposes. There are media outlets that produce mini horror shows -- complete with caricatured villains -- and market them as news, or who thrive on shock and outrage. It is too easy to get caught up in this one fear being reasonable, that one worry being justifiable, those particular threats being a real danger. 

Of course there are real dangers in the world. "Do not let your hearts be troubled" was spoken the same night as "Let this cup pass from me." Neither do I agree with those who see "Fear not" as a commandment of obligation and therefore see fear as a sin of commission. Still, fear may make us vulnerable to temptation. Doesn't it play a role in greed, or enmity, or spite, or fits of rage? Who is more dangerous than someone who is frightened, or possibly frightened-then-angry? 

So for Lent this year I will be looking at how God and his messengers address fear and worry. 

Temptation in the Desert

The air is clear in the desert. They say the stars are spectacular when seen from the desert, with not even humidity to cloud the vision.

When I hear of Jesus being tempted in the desert, I wonder. The temptations in the desert seem unusually clear. We're tempted all the time, but we can't always tell that it's the voice of evil. The disguise of evil is too good for us to recognize it, or there's some confusion, some ambiguity in the offer. We can't always see the choice so clearly: taken to its logical conclusion, stripped of all pretense and decoration.

As others have noted, the first temptation is nearly a reversal of Eden. In Eden: in an overflowing paradise, take one more thing for yourself: a promise of being like God. In the desert: in a wasteland and very hungry, take some simple bread, even one thing for yourself -- by using miraculous powers for your own benefit, not suffering as simply man. And so in Eden a temptation to claim God's power for personal benefit was accepted by people. And in the desert, a temptation to assert divine power for personal benefit was rejected by the Lord. And does the tempter have a sense of irony? The temptation to be like God seems intended to dethrone God, and to take away the value of being "like God" for both God and for us wannabes. (I don't see any signs that there was real interest learning to discern good from evil.)

The other temptations in the desert involved status, pride, power, riches, recognition, safety, and escape from cruel and undeserved hardship. Those temptations have taken down many of us. They are often the focus of our prayers. We're eager to think that any path toward them comes from God. And Jesus did receive those same blessings from God. From God, not from the tempter. In God's way, in God's time. If he had gotten any of that in the tempter's way, they would have been worthless. Would we really have honored Jesus if the story ended there: "And Jesus bowed down, and received all honor and dominion." And everything Jesus received would have remained under the tempter's ultimate control since Jesus bowed to him. The tempter promises gifts to his subjects; nothing would actually leave his domain.

If the tempter does eavesdrop on our prayers, it is no reason to stop praying for God's honest blessings. But it may be time to ask for what we once tried to claim: real knowledge to discern good and evil. May God grant us clarity to see, and compassion on each other as we struggle to see.

Resisting Hate-bait: Guarding against the tendency to dehumanize "the enemy"

I've seen it -- and have been appalled by it -- in political rhetoric, where opponents are said to "slither" (snakes aren't human, and are venomous into the bargain), or speakers to opponents' groups are portrayed as "throwing red meat" (as if to dangerous animals, again: not human, and dangerous). I've seen it in certain groups' rhetoric against Jews, teaching their children to regard them as "pigs" (again not human, and filthy). It's interesting that the animals to which "the enemy" is compared tend to be cold-blooded, or dangerous, or filthy. Not every animal comparison is meant as an insult; someone might be compared to an animal that is majestic or loyal or cute with no insult intended. But if the comparison is to an animal perceived as ugly, stupid, dangerous, or dirty, it is likely that the comparison is intended to dehumanize.

Why dehumanize the enemy? In the political realm it's not just cruelty, it's strategy for marginalizing individuals or groups. Animals aren't smart or rational enough to have considered opinions; they don't deserve the dignity of conversation. You don't have to justify why you won't listen to an animal. It's a waste of time, and dangerous, too. You don't have to justify the fact that animals don't have rights. And, more darkly, you don't have to justify killing animals; they aren't human. That has happened now and then in human history. And it begins with treating people like dangerous, stupid, or dirty animals.

Here I want to talk about how our culture starts very young, in teaching children to dehumanize others. It flies under the radar too often, and here I want to start simply by making people aware of the problem. Notice how a famous children's author cues her readers which characters they are supposed to hate by referring to the characters in sub-human terms -- that, is, by dehumanizing them. The animal comments are often even less subtle than having them perform animal actions like slither or snarl or waddle.

Some early introductions from book 2 of a series:

• Aunt Petunia was horse-faced and bony.
• Dudley was blond, pink, and porky. 
• Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros ...

From book 3:

• Aunt Petunia, who was bony and horse-faced
• Uncle Vernon snarled
• Dudley came waddling down the hall

From book 4:

• her lips pursed over her horse-like teeth 
• ."You," he barked at Harry. [Vernon again]
• Dudley was crammed into an armchair, his porky hands beneath him

In book 5, I expect we could look up the introductions of Harry's relatives again, though the new villain of the book might add some insight as to how an author dehumanizes a character, and does it in a way calculated to cause revulsion:

He thought she looked just like a large, pale toad. She was rather squat, with a broad, flabby face, as little neck as Uncle Vernon, and a very wide, slack mouth. Her eyes were large, round, and slightly bulging. Even the little black velvet bow perched on top of her short curly hair put him in mind of a large fly she was about to catch on a long sticky tongue. 

The character of Dolores Umbridge is almost entirely hate-bait, one of the characters introduced in order for the audience to despise them, and to be glad when something bad happens to them. Even Voldemort is given a more sympathetic backstory than Vernon Dursley or Dolores Umbridge.

An author can tempt -- or manipulate -- hatred from her audience. One of the standard tools for doing that is to dehumanize a character. And of course it's just fiction. That doesn't make it one bit smarter to accept hatred as part of how we react to people.

Is disliking someone a judgmental act?

I've been wrestling with whether it is inherently wrong to dislike someone. If we are meant to love each other -- if love is the essence of God's law, so that love is the fulfillment -- then a lack of love has some connection to the root of sin. I am not concerned with the question of "lack of love" where it concerns people that we haven't met; it's not as though we dislike them. But to dislike someone that we know, I'm asking myself: is that sinful?

It's a tough topic. First, there is the possibility that someone might take that question as a cause for guilt, and be overwhelmed by the sheer size of the task considering the real-life sinners that we know. If someone is one of Jesus' people, then Jesus sets us free from guilt and judgment. But the question poses itself all the more clearly against the background of Jesus' love: Do we have any right to dislike another person? Beyond that, isn't it arrogant to dislike someone? So the question is meant not for guilt but for challenge, as a tool we can use to check ourselves if we find ourselves dwelling on how we don't like another person and why.

Another complication is about people who are doing wrong things; we don't want some misunderstanding about whether we support those things. The wrong doesn't have to be wrong on a grand scale; the everyday scale will do. For example, this morning I found myself struggling with unpleasant feelings for a family that has a history of unkindness to other people, and this morning took the "reserved" row where a handicapped child and his family normally sit. (The row is a little bit wider to make room for his walker. The row was marked off, as always, with a cord.) The handicapped child's family had some trouble to find another place besides their usual reserved place. And if the ushers didn't catch the situation in time, it really wasn't my place to say anything. But if it wasn't my place to say anything, was it my place to harbor an annoyance? (Along with noticing small wrongs, there is a temptation to be petty.) Then again, not all wrongs are small.

I won't pretend the topic is simple, easy, and clear to me. But I suspect that, in most cases, disliking someone is wrong.

And the biggest temptation is ...

Today's Bible readings in church were largely focused on temptation: Eve in the garden, Jesus in the wilderness. And during the readings it struck me that the common temptation in those readings was about ego (status, pride, that kind of thing). "If you really want to be like God ...", or "If you really are the Son of God ...", was the basic weakness to exploit.

During the week, I'd done a day where I tried to keep note of things that tempted me to become impatient or short-tempered, so that I could look at the causes. I made up my mind in advance that I didn't get to leave things off the list just because I kept a professional exterior, but I wanted the true internal picture of everything that had made me struggle to keep that professionalism going. Call it good or bad timing if you will, but the day turned out to be a particularly rough day, almost designed to test the nerves. The character of the "list of things that tempted me to be short-tempered" surprised me a little. At the end of the day, the list contained only one thing that was about my convenience. The rest of the list, when I reviewed it, described things that had the potential either to embarrass me or otherwise make me look bad, if things went wrong. I found myself wondering how much of my "conscientious, detail-oriented, diligent, hard-working" persona at work was motivated by a fear of being wrong, or of being embarrassed by a mistake. It made me wonder how much was the need to be respected or valued. Is my life really focused on that? (On reflection, I wonder how many of the impatient, short-tempered people I was dealing with that day were short-tempered because they were in a situation that made them look bad,or had that potential.) I'm sure "do unto others" would lead me to make sure the other people weren't seen in a bad light.

I don't have all the follow-up meditation and thinking done yet, but today's Bible readings again seemed fairly instructive: at the end of the gospel reading, Jesus has stated that his actions will serve the Lord. I could use that perspective.

Jesus in the Wilderness: Why the Tempter Left

These thoughts are in the style of how the ancients pondered over Scripture in the Talmud. After Jesus had been in the wilderness, we read that the tempter left and that the angel of the Lord came.

Why did the tempter leave Jesus?

Because the tempter went in search of someone who would yield to sin, as it is written, "Evil pursues sinners," (that is, not the righteous). Proverbs 13:21.

Because Scripture was in his heart, as it says, "I will keep your words in my heart, that I might not sin against You." (Psalm 119:11)

Because he resisted temptation, as it is written, "Resist the devil, and he will flee from you." (James 4:7)

And why did the angels come?

It is written, "The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him." (Psalm 34:7) And again, "Let the angel of the Lord chase them away" -- that is, those who seek after his soul. (Psalm 35:5)

The temptation of Jesus -- and the temptation of ministry

At the beginning of Jesus' public ministry, his first action after his baptism was to go to the wilderness for a time of fasting. How did he spend the forty days? Did he spend the time fixing his mind on the things he needed to accomplish? Did he fix his mind on the good he was setting out to achieve? Did he picture the ultimate success of his achievement in the world to come?

We only know this: a tempter came with these temptations: Prove yourself. Use your abilities and powers to serve yourself -- it's not much, and nobody could dispute that you need it. Use God's favor and protection to glorify yourself. Gain the world for yourself.

Jesus said no. We say yes, too often. Those same temptations come to everyone who sets out on any major task. Those temptations come even to people who set out to achieve something good -- maybe especially to people who set out to achieve something good. We think if our goals are good then we have already gotten past the temptations. We're wrong about that. The temptations are right with us: Prove yourself. Make it about your own reputation. Use some of your status for your own benefit. Gain recognition and honor. Gain something for yourself -- after all, you've deserved it, haven't you? Aren't we supposed to be gaining something?

We begin follow Jesus at our baptism -- he is baptized, and we follow him in our own baptism. We can forget to follow him for the next step: rejecting the temptations that came even to him. Those who serve are tempted to make it about themselves. People need to be convinced their leaders are clever, right? The leaders, once they begin to lead, need to prove themselves, don't they? It helps the ministry if we gain recognition, doesn't it? At each turn, there's a wrong way to do things, which leaves the ministry subtly poisoned -- or not so subtly, as time goes on.

I wonder how much every human action meets those same temptations. I wonder how often we recognize them.

Carmen on Ice: When we wrestle with sin, who's winning?

I love to watch ice skating. One of the most mesmerizing ice-skates I have ever seen was a performance of Carmen on Ice starring Katarina Witt as Carmen. In an early scene Carmen, a walking trouble-factory, has been arrested and is being escorted to jail.

A guard has tied Carmen with a rope and walks her along holding the other end of the rope. But the guard is an inexperienced and naive young man. Carmen sees something the young official does not see: as he holds the other end of the rope and is bound by duty, the guard cannot escape from her any more than she can escape from him. And so she begins to toy with him. Even though she has been arrested it's clear from the way she carries herself: she is in charge. The young guard has little idea how far over his head he is.

It's easy to underestimate sin as an opponent. Whenever we wrestle with sin or temptation, even if we merely wrestle against another part of our own minds, we find ourselves up against an experienced and crafty opponent. Ever find yourself praying to forgive someone, and find yourself instead remembering the wrong and inflaming the resentment so that the resentment is worse than before? Or ever find yourself praying about a sin, only to find you've just given it your full attention by focusing on it? We're the naive young guard, and we can easily find ourselves over our heads. And like the guard, the problem is that we're not entirely sure within our own minds; one part of us would rather have the trouble.

Evil often tries to use us that way: even if we think we have it on a leash, it may be the one leading us around. And Jesus paints a similar picture: that we are slaves to sin. If we struggle with sin but then resentfully and reluctantly do things we do not want to do, then sin owns us. We're the prisoner, we're the captive -- another analogy that the Bible uses for our situation.

Consider how often Saul of Tarsus has been repeated in history: he sets out to stop what he is sure is evil, and instead finds himself doing terrible things and making excuses for terrible things. Or consider how easily justice becomes revenge, an infinite excuse to abuse someone who is hated, provided they have ever done something wrong. It's fairly easy for our good intentions to be turned around on us.

Jesus showed us how to do the same thing to evil: how to reverse things so that evil's opening move is turned around for the good, and for evil to find itself the one being outmaneuvered. He said to bless those who curse us. There is no shortage of people who curse us these days; is it really so hard to return a kind word? He said to do good to those who hate us. There are probably some around who hate us, and we know who they are; it is easy enough to find something good to do for them. He said to pray for those who persecute us, and he encourages us to greet more than just those who would expect it of us. These are more than inspirational words; they show us how to take evil's opening move -- or even an evil status quo -- and turn it into a reversal for evil, where all its plans backfire, and the harder it tries, the more thoroughly defeated it becomes, the more thoroughly its plans are frustrated.

Like Carmen we should know: the rope is in our hands. The question is who is more experienced and determined.

---

Here's a link to that segment of Carmen On Ice, if you want to watch. The segment starts with the fight that leads to the arrest, and then includes the arrest scene.