Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit,
returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for
forty days He was tempted by the devil. (Luke 4.1-2)
No Arguments, No Equivocation
I’d always been “the skinny kid” until middle age kicked me
in the gut. And it was some kick. The men on both sides of my family bear their
excess weight around the middle. So that’s where mine collected. Gradually, my
30-inch waist rounded up to 36. A six-inch expansion over two decades may not
seem like much to a lot of folks. But it was shameful to me, as it signified
lack of discipline. I wasn’t fighting temptation’s power over me. Worse yet,
when I considered the only alternative—diet and exercise—I consciously
surrendered to temptation. Even though I knew my behavior wasn’t healthy, I had all
kinds of rationale for attitudes and behaviors that masked unwillingness to
resist temptation as defiance.
First, there was the notion that monitoring my diet and
working out wasn’t “me.” I’d never had to do either one. How dare changes in
body chemistry force me to change! Second, I abhorred the gay stereotype of the
calorie-counting gym rat. I’ve always viewed that as an indicator of vanity in
some, insecurity in others. Yet it grew increasingly obvious that “defiance” of
the aging process and cultural stereotypes was harming me. My corkscrew logic didn’t
work. I knew that. And I had to stop
pretending I didn’t.
In January, Walt announced, “We’re getting you back in
shape.” Because I know he loves me—will always love me—regardless of my
physique, I knew his motives were pure. What’s more, he sealed the
deal by saying, “We’re going to do this together.” Now Walt has never battled
his weight. So volunteering to take this journey with me moved me to act. He
threw out all the junk food and assumed the onerous task of ensuring we get to
the gym every day. Then we had a long talk about my behavior when he’s not
around—when I’m traveling, for instance, and he’s not there to monitor what I do.
“You have to commit to making right choices on your own,” he said. “When that little
voice tells you it’s okay because I’m not there, you have to shut it down. No
arguments. No equivocation. Just, ‘No!’” So far, things are going well. It’s
not always easy or pleasant. But now that I’ve fixed my attitude, I’ve
discovered overcoming temptation is its own act of defiance—the kind of
defiance that chooses health over harm, strength of mind over weakness of body.
If all goes well, in a few months’ time, I should be back to my old self again.
Except for one big difference: getting the “real me” back will require the
“current me” to change. That’s what I’m learning with each new day.
Right Choices
When we open Sunday’s Gospel (Luke 4.1-13) to read of
Jesus’s wilderness temptation, we take stock of what’s actually happening. He’s
just left the Jordan, where God has audibly claimed Him as God’s chosen Son.
He’s never been more sure of Who He is. The stories of His miraculous conception
and birth, His adolescent curiosity about godly things—all of it suddenly makes
sense. And when the Spirit steers Him into the desert, He brings more than
certainty of Self with Him. Based on His future encounters with the Pharisees,
we know Jesus is deeply suspicious of religious stereotypes. Before He begins
His ministry, He will need to reconcile the singularity of His calling with the
context of His culture. It is essential that He present the “real” Jesus to the
world, rather than merely defy the appearance and trappings of religious norms.
Jesus knows that God loves Him without measure. He knows God
will stay with Him during this struggle. (If He doubts any of this, why go into
the desert at all?) Yet, as the story advances, it’s obvious that Jesus is led
into the wilderness to test His ability to make the right choices on His own. In the temptations put
before Him one hears the tempter say, “You’re out here by Yourself. No one need
ever know You’ve had a few momentary lapses. Why put Yourself through this?” The
devil is very crafty in designing specific challenges for Jesus—three in all,
each targeting a potential weakness: confidence of Self that suggests He can
eat anything He pleases; the promise of commanding worldly respect by defying
stereotype; and the opportunity to prove His faith in God by forcing God to
rescue Him. The nature of these temptations may not reflect those we normally
face. But they’re transparent in their attempts to destroy Jesus. He sees
through the scam. He knows what’s promised can never be delivered. Once the
devil is convinced Jesus’s faith is secure, he leaves—although Luke ends story
on an ominous note, saying the struggle will resume at a more “opportune
time.”
Our Responsibility
What does this story say about our lives, the tests we
undergo, and the Lenten journey we undertake? First, there will be times when
the Spirit leads into wildernesses where we’re tempted, intentionally to teach
us the importance of making right choices. God goes with us, but leaves the
decisions solely to us. Simply knowing we’re God’s beloved children doesn’t
exempt us from tests. And when we’re tested, we’re wise not to dismiss it
lightly. Because we’ve been immune to temptation’s harms in the past doesn’t
guarantee immunity. Because we’ve never had problems with certain attitudes and
behaviors doesn’t mean they will never be problematic. And we must be very
conscious that we’re every bit as vulnerable as anyone else to vanities and
insecurities we want to defy. We have to make right choices. It doesn’t matter
who is or isn’t watching. Every decision carries real consequences that can reshape
us into people we were never meant to be.
The devil in our desert knows us all too well. It knows the
games we play to justify unhealthy thoughts and actions. It knows that God’s
protection stops short of preventing us from harming ourselves. That’s our
responsibility. Yet while decisions we make are ours alone, we are not alone.
We combat the diabolical voice that says, “It’s okay—nobody’s looking,” with
our Maker’s voice. Not only during Lent, but always, we hear God say, “Let’s get you into shape.” When we’re
tested, we follow Jesus’s example. No arguments. No equivocation. Just, ‘No!’”
Too often yielding to temptation masks itself as a better choice than doing the
hard of work of self-denial and spiritual exercise. But in the end, it’s a
lousy decision and we eventually discover that getting back to the “real us”
will require the “current us” to change. We choose health over harm, strength
of mind over weakness of body. It’s a lesson we learn and relearn with each new
day.
The devil in our
desert knows us all too well and targets our potential weaknesses.
What we do in response to temptation is a choice we must make on
our own.
2 comments:
Ahh, such wise words Tim. We have so many ways of avoiding facing up to who we are and what we need do. It's so easy to persuade ourselves that we can shirk our responsibilities. Henri Nouwen spoke of these temptations and the one I remember most is the third--teling Jesus to jump and let God save him. He reflected that it was our human desire to show off that was our stumbling block oftimes. We naturally like to be noticed by others and applauded for our talents. Humility comes from recognizing that we are nothing without God and acknowledging that all the good we do is His doing, not ours. We are merely the hands, feet and mouth that does the grunt work. Our best work is usually done without fanfair and without anyone even knowing. Thank you for reminding me of this important lesson. Blessings.
Sherry
Sherry, I think you tap into a major reason why we so often fail to overcome temptation--this need to prove something about ourselves. Either it's "I can handle it," or, "The rules don't apply to me," or "God will save me." It all boils down to the proverb, "Pride goes before a fall."
It is, as you say, in humility that we rise above temptation.
Thanks so much for this thought. It adds much clarity to the post!
Blessings,
Tim
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