Lent 1 Year C

Lent 1 Year C 2025 Sermon

On Ash Wednesday this week we entered, once again, the Church season of Lent, traditionally a season of prayer, fasting and alms giving.

These can all be very good and helpful in re-balancing aspects of our life that may have become unbalanced in some way, but I think this season, and today’s Gospel description of Jesus’ time in the wilderness may point to a more profound challenge, or opportunity.

Each year, Lent gives an opening for us to look closely at patterns of behaviour that are fully human, but which can enslave us. Through the six weeks of Lent we may rediscover our freedom as children of God.

Just before today’s reading in Luke’s gospel, Jesus was proclaimed the Son of God at his baptism. And according to Luke, immediately after his baptism Jesus goes into the wilderness.

There is an extraordinary short film, a sequence of 40 illustrations for these 40 days. The link is given below the sermon text. It is a film to which I return every year, often watching it several times. There is no narration, but we journey with Jesus as he walks away from home and into the wilderness. We see him praying, see him hungry and thirsty, watching a family of foxes, gazing at a single flower in the desert, catching and tearing his clothes on thorns, inventing games to ease his boredom, collapsing exhausted, being watched over by angels, tempted by Satan, and eventually carried back to society on the wings of angels. It is neither sentimental nor gory, but speaks deep truths through simple black and white illustrations. I recommend it to you.

But what can Jesus’ days in the wilderness 2000 years ago teach us for our lives here today?

The first temptation is related to physical hunger. Jesus is hungry. Very hungry. 40 days hungry. So Satan suggests to him that he turn a stone into bread, and his hunger will be gone. It seems so harmless, in fact wouldn’t this be what a loving God would desire?

We all know, from lived human experience, that physical hunger is a daily reality. We eat a substantial meal, and tomorrow are hungry again. It is a basic, good, survival instinct that ensures we keep our bodies and minds healthy. We have other basic needs: the need to feel safe; to have adequate shelter, warmth, access to medical help, and sufficient financial security to feel secure.

Jesus’ rejection of this first temptation that relates to physical hunger, is, I think, actually a rejection of the temptation to believe that we are ultimately responsible for our material security. Such responsibility demands that we work tirelessly to ensure that we (and in moments of generosity, all people) always have enough.

But there’s something within human experience that leads us never quite to be satisfied. The psychological concept of ‘relative deprivation’ suggests that all of us, no matter how much money we have, or what our social status, believe that if we just had 10% more, we would have enough. And this seems to be as true of the super-rich as it is of those living in poverty. We are never satisfied.

The deep truth is that no matter how much we have we remain vulnerable. We long for absolute security and when we allow this material longing to dictate our life choices, it risks becoming something that prevents us from living in freedom.

Two weeks ago, after Evensong, I walked to Calton Hill and sat looking out over Edinburgh to Fife enjoying the sunset. A young Ukrainian woman sat beside me, and we began to talk.

Her hometown is in a region now occupied by Russian forces. She came to Edinburgh 3 years ago, and lives, separated from family and friends, with a host family. She has lost so much - ‘I no longer have a home, nor a homeland I can return to. Maybe I never can,’ she said. Her family are scattered, her grandparents continue to live at home, under Russian occupation, and she had just a few days before celebrated her 21st birthday.

She spoke of how 5 years ago it was unimaginable that her childhood and family home, her life with her friends, and her stepping out into adult life in Ukraine, would be snatched from her. ‘I had a wonderful life, you know. I was very happy,’ she said. Yet she was determinedly positive, grateful and stoically hopeful. ‘What other choice do I have?’ she asked.

We are surrounded by those for whom the struggle to live in security has crumbled. People living on our streets, many of whom previously had secure jobs and lives; people fleeing their country because it is no longer safe; people no longer able to access benefits that kept them above the poverty line; people fleeing abusive relationships. So, when we are in the fortunate position of experiencing material security, we surely have a responsibility to look out for those who have fallen on hard times. We perhaps, are called to be the angels who can carry another who is struggling in a wilderness of fear and loss.

The second wilderness temptation for Jesus is that of power. ‘If you will worship me, I will give you all authority in all the kingdoms of the world’. Jesus recognises that to accept this power will lead only to death; his worship will be godless, and his life focus will be worldliness not Godliness.

Now I am not suggesting that power is, of itself, evil, for we are gifted with power as human beings, power to have a positive impact in the life of the world. We must not, through some kind of false modesty, shun positions of leadership that hold power for which we have great skills and gifts. We must not be ‘too small for our boots!’ for we certainly are in need of good honest leaders! But when one’s desire to lead becomes a desire for power itself, then this is no longer about service but about self-centred ambition.

We see the tendency to fall into this temptation being played out in politics; in the international monetary system in which the market and profit, and power is put above all else; and sometimes within the Church. Such self-centred power leads ultimately to worldliness, to harm, and to death. It becomes an unquenchable thirst, blind to others and to God.

And thirdly, Jesus is tempted to test God’s love.

It is a fundamental human fear that we are not really loved, or actually lovable. You can almost hear Satan’s whisper in Jesus’ ear; ‘How can you be so sure God really loves you? Are you really so special? How do you know? If you are, God will rescue you from any serious harm … won’t he??

We all long to be special, to be deeply fully loved, and don’t we all doubt it at some level?

The incomprehensible joy and abundant nature of God’s love is that Jesus was God’s special one ... and so is every single person who ever lived.

In an interesting book, very popular some years ago, called The Shack, a man called Mack spends a weekend with the Triune God; a black woman called Papa, Jesus, and Sarayu, the Holy Spirit. At several points during their conversation as people are mentioned, God responds, ‘Ah yes, Shona, (or whoever else it may be), I’m especially fond of Shona’. And so we gradually become aware of God’s special unique love for every individual person.

Any attempt on our part to judge, to put conditions, to exclude anyone from God’s love is one thing that might diminish others’ experiences of God’s love. For the miracle is that the abundance of life and love that is God is increased the more widely it is shared.

Through these three responses to temptation in the wilderness in today’s Gospel, Jesus is set free; free to be true to his call that will ultimately set him free even from death.

Lent also offers us the opportunity to be set free, by looking again, honestly, and in prayer, at these same three vital questions, or temptations.

Is my search for material security dominating or controlling my life choices?

Do I exercise power to enable others to flourish or do I claim power to shore up my sense of self-worth?

Are my relationships inward or outward looking? Do they exclude others from communion with God, or am I a messenger of God’s welcome, spreading God’s endless love wider and higher and deeper?

For most of us, our habits are not wicked, but nevertheless they can become enslaving, controlling what we do, who we are, how we live... and they can drown out that quiet voice of God that speaks within each of us, in our consciences and in our hearts.

This season of Lent is a gift, a gift to be celebrated, a gift of a time set apart from ordinary time. May we live it fully, and honestly, and by walking through Lent in prayer with God, may we begin to discover the reality of life lived in the freedom, truthfulness, and generosity of God’s love.

Amen

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfxC2e-Ad2k