1st Sunday of Lent C, 2007

We expect to hear of the temptation of Jesus in the desert on the first Sunday of Lent, and this year we are not disappointed in that respect except for the fact that this year there’s a twist to the story, for this is taken from the Gospel of Saint Luke, rather than from the more familiar Matthew, and so there’s an inversion in the sequence of the temptations. More about that later.

There’s always plenty for us to speak about and to ponder in this annual reading of this event in our Lord’s life, always a new way to look at the three temptations. Their meaning is inexhaustible. And so we begin.

The first attempt by the devil was the suggestion that Jesus should ‘give in’ to hunger, to His craving for food after an heroic fast of forty days. In a certain way, I wish Jesus would have done the suggested miracle and shown the devil ‘who’s who’ by turning those stones into bread, even if Jesus would not have eaten them. This would have satisfied my desire to have God vindicate Himself before His old foe. But on second thought, had our Lord caved in, what would have been the beneficial lesson for us? Would we not then have concluded that it’s OK to listen to the offers of Evil One? That would also have indicated that human nature can’t withstand the devil and that he must have the upper hand. We know, of course, that God can conquer the devil, but the issue was whether or not a human could refuse him. If the answer is No then we’d have been sunk: the helpless playthings of the Evil Spirit. So, in the end, I’m grateful that Jesus did not ‘show all his cards’ to the devil, but rather taught that we–weakened human beings–we can overcome the devil because his power over us is limited: a condition which is surely a humiliation for a being far superior in strength than ourselves.

The reply of our Lord to this temptation unmasks what’s at the heart of our problem in this regard. This is our temptation to live ‘by bread alone,’ that is, for the body’s satisfaction only. We all need to care for dear body, and most of us take care of it rather well enough, if not too much. But it’s that word ‘alone’ that strikes us. Some people live for the flesh alone and cave in to its every demand. Hence the sins of the flesh that drive the overindulgent to near madness for their lack of self-control. The body is a thing that needs to be mastered and tamed, just on account of the animal part of us that it is. This is why the Church encourages us to undertake fasting and bodily disciplines, especially in Lent. It’s to gain (or regain) self mastery. Jesus’ decision to the devil’s proposal was in favor of sacrifice–and note that word! It’s a term that ought to ring-through your Christian head and heart. It should recall the sufferings and death of the Lord on the cross, the sacrifice of the Mass, and the giving of His body to us in Holy Communion. That’s the bread on which we ‘alone’ will live for eternity. How can we receive Holy Communion, the bread of eternal life, and then go on to live as if our bodily cravings were ‘alone’ what we need in this life? Our Lord taught us deep lesson here by staying hungry deliberately.

Regarding the second temptation (the one to adore the devil in order to become ruler of the world), I’m struck by how subtly relevant this is for everyone. You might think that this temptation would pose no problem for you. You, after all, do not have the desire to become the ruler of the world, but are content in being just who you are. However, I find from my observations of people that there’s a universal phenomenon here. You should not think that this temptation concerns only the rich, the famous: the big people of this world. Rather, persons of merely ordinary gifts and personality–and even those who may be rather poorly gifted–often have ambition, flights of fantasy to become a Somebody, to have recognition, esteem, control over someone else, and so on. In fact, I’ve noticed that it’s often the most unlikely people to have such grandiose thoughts–the least endowed–who often have the greatest ambition. It’s as if to say that this temptation can grip the imagination of even the lowliest of men. Call it compensation for a deprivation or an insecurity, if you will, but the Nobody who becomes boss is often the most tyrannical. That’s, of course, not always the case. Ambitious, envious thoughts can seize the imagination of just about anyone and the desire to have one’s egotistical wish fulfilled can drive a poor soul to do almost anything to attain the object of his desire–even unto selling his soul to the devil–the one who promises everything, gives nothing, yet seizes eternal possession of those who succumb to him.

In the Gospel of Saint Matthew this is the final temptation of the devil: the ultimate, desperate attempt to subdue Jesus. But in Saint Luke’s version, the devil is not yet finished, but has one yet to go. This is not really as anti-climatic as it may seem. Rather, Satan here shows the fullest extent of his perverse art. This is the temptation not to worldly dominion and power (as in the second temptation) but to a spiritual, devilishly refined suggestion. In effect, the devil wanted Jesus to prove His command over the angels–those celestial beings whose primary duty and purpose is to serve God. If our Lord had thrown Himself from the temple and the angels had rescued Him then the devil would have known that Jesus is really God. And if the angels would not have delivered Jesus from falling, then the devil would have won by being rid of Him. Either way, the devil would have been the winner. From this arrangement of the temptations in Saint Luke, we see that the high point of them is to kill the Lord; and that’s why this gospel ends with the words, “[the devil] departed from Him for a time.” Satan will later enter Judas, as the Gospel will tell say, and that will be the other time. The fact that the devil will not succeed there (Judas would instead take his own life) shows that Jesus submitted to death of His own free will. He would give Himself up for sacrifice. And so, our Lord answers, ‘you–Satan–you will not put the Lord your God to the test!’. This was also a roundabout way for Jesus to assert His divinity (by indicating that He is the “Lord your God”). Yet the devil remained still unsure of just who this might be, and he awaited another opportunity to get at Him–just as he does with us if we refuse at first to commit some sin. There’s always another chance, another test. Such is the state of things in this vale of tears.

Saint John, in his first epistle, identified a triple disorder in our fallen human nature. He called it a threefold ‘concupiscence’: that of the flesh, of the eyes, and of pride. The way Saint Luke arranged the three temptations of our Lord corresponds to that order exactly: desires of the flesh, desire of ambition and self-importance, and pride especially spiritual pride.

You may see why the season of Lent is prescribed by the Church. We shouldn’t look upon it so much as an imposition but as a welcome remedy for our weakened condition. Without doing some violence to ourselves (violence in a controlled manner, that is), we’re the devil’s toys which he can use at will and which he finally collect as his own property. Let us thank our Lord for humbly subjecting Himself to these three tests, not that He needed them but that we did. Now we know and are certain that we have the freedom to resist sin. Humanity, especially humanity charged with divine grace, can triumph over all the powers of hell. With Christ, we can always be winners.