Sermon - Time to Get Clear

Preached on February 10, 2008, First Sunday in Lent, at First Congregational Church of Tallmadge, UCC

Psalm 32
Matthew 4:1-11

Dedicated to Dave and Audrey; and always to the glory of God.

The story is told of both Tommy Johnson and Robert Johnson, two legendary blues guitarists of the Mississippi Delta almost a century ago. The story was told that each one went one night to the crossroads to meet the devil. It was the devil who taught them to play like nobody else, and in return each man gave up his soul.

If you want something badly enough, you could sell your soul to the devil. In your life you could have talent, fame, riches, pleasure, but when you die, your soul belongs to the devil, and your fate is sealed.

We just heard how Jesus met the devil, also called the tempter. There are so many different versions of the devil it’s difficult to decide how to interpret this scene. Is this the supreme evil being with horns and a tail, or is it like the little devil who pops up on your shoulder to give dangerous advice? In some cultures, the devil is a trickster, someone likely to pull a good prank, and in Jewish tradition, Satan was anyone who took an opposing opinion, what we would call playing devil’s advocate. This is why Jesus calls Peter a Satan when Peter disagrees with the path Jesus plans to take to the cross. The devil that Jesus meets is probably somewhere in between supreme evil and a devil’s advocate.

I don’t believe in the devil as some actual creature who might show up to swindle you out of your soul. I don’t believe in that kind of devil, but I do think that in life there are times when we risk losing our soul to go after something that seems, somehow, more important. Much of life is like that, and if we want to call it the devil’s temptation, then I won’t disagree.

When we make a devil’s bargain it happens gradually, so that we don’t even realize what we are losing. We go after what seems important but we give up our soul. We go after the promise of a happy life but give up for it a life of meaning. We take the promise of prosperity and give up for it all our time and passion. We take the promise of success and give up for it the relationships of family and friends. We take the promise of security and give up for it our freedom, our character.

Right now in this country there is debate about whether an act has long been called torture may sometimes be justified. I think that when our nation rationalizes torture, we lose our character, our soul.

These decisions are not made all at once but bit by bit. As the Talking Heads used to sing “you may ask yourself ‘well - how did I get here?’” One day, we turn around and realize that we have to get our soul back.

When Jesus is tempted in the wilderness, he is taking that time to get clear about the work that he is about to begin, the ministry for which he has just been anointed in the Jordan river. It’s not a simple question. How do you extend the kingdom of God to all the world?

In the first temptation, the devil plays on his hunger during this wilderness fast. He says: you have God’s power, turn those stones into bread. The temptation of materialism. If we have enough, we can do anything. If I have enough I’ll be able to keep us safe and secure. There is no problem that can’t be helped by a little bread.

Jesus turns him down. He’s not against eating, and he’s certainly not against feeding people. He’ll spent a great deal of time sharing meals with sinners and feeding large crowds, but he says no because he doesn’t want to win people over with free food. The real message is God’s compassion – food is merely a symbol of God’s compassion, just like the bread on the communion table is a symbol of so much more. If he were to win the crowds with food, he’d be no better than the Roman Empire subjugating the masses with bread and gladiator sport. Keep their stomachs full and their minds empty.

At this church we strive to provide for people. We share meals, we serve others, but we must be careful never to think that our primary goal is to make people comfortable and well-fed. If that’s all we are offering, then people might be better off spending Sunday at a restaurant where they can order what they want and leave their money in the tray that is brought out at the end. We’re not just in the comfort business. We’re in the gospel business, which leads us to give people comfort. There’s an important distinction.

Next the devil tells him to go to the highest point of the Temple in Jerusalem, a place where everyone will see him well, and then jump off, because God will send angels to save him. Wouldn’t that be something? The temptation of sensational entertainment. “Show us, Jesus! Show us once and for all how great you are so that all will come to follow you.” Sometimes we read these stories in the gospel about Jesus walking on water, raising the sick and the dead, feeding thousands with a few loaves of bread, and we think, if only God would show us a miracle like that it would be easier to believe!

But if you read the gospels closely, you will find that there were plenty of people who were there right when it happened who didn’t believe any of it. It turns out that faith in God is not won by great signs. Rather, faith is like a pair of glasses. Once you have them on, you are able to see the signs of God, but without them we see only despair. A faith that blames God for not saving us from injury and illness is a shallow faith. We must offer more than bread and miracles. We must offer something deeper, a deeper love that will hold us close even when we are hungry and hurt. Jesus turns down the devil again.

Finally, the devil says that if Jesus will worship him, he will just give him the world. The final, most obvious temptation to sell his soul, to give up his character, his identity, just to get what he wants.

Jesus went into the wilderness to get clear. He came out of the wilderness with a message of grace, of God’s love for us and our freedom to respond in love, not because we were bribed by things, not because we were impressed or entertained, but because the kind of love that would give even his life was irresistible. This kind of love showed us how to get our souls back.

So when is our time to get clear? When is our time to step back from our lives so that we can examine them by the light that Jesus shines, and thereby discover where and we have lost our soul? Did we give up what is really important for treasures that are forever out of reach?

We may have sold our soul without even realizing what we were doing. I told you already that I don’t believe in a real devil who steals our souls from us. But even if there was, I don’t think it would ultimately work. I believe God’s love is so great, and God’s power so strong, that nothing will keep any of us away from God for eternity. As Paul wrote, nothing can separate us from the love of Christ, not even death. That’s not the issue. The issue is how are we going to live? Do we fill our lives with bread and stunts and power, or do we pass those up, as Jesus did, so that our arms are open to receive the grace of God? In the season of Lent we have 40 days, the same time that Jesus spent in the desert. That’s a gift. It’s time to get clear.

The Grapes of Wrath

I recently found a small paperback edition of The Grapes of Wrath on our bookshelves. Inside the front cover is my wife’s name and some notes she took while reading it in college. In the past few weeks I have been captivated by the Joad family, who were forced out of their home in the Oklahoma dust bowl during the great depression. They packed their family and their last possessions onto a beat up truck and fled to California, following the stories they’d heard about fruit trees, vineyards, and plenty of work for hard-working people. John Steinbeck based his novel on his own first hand reporting of the great migration of people to California. They were called Okies, which was originally a derisive and ugly name. But the promise of California was false. There were too many hungry people and not enough work.

There is a scene that takes place in a sort of refugee camp, where many of the displaced families are living while looking for work. A young woman, pregnant with her first child, meets a woman who calls herself a “lamb’s blood Christian” and preaches fire and brimstone at her. She says the camp is crawling with sinners, which it clearly is not - most people are honest and kind to one another. But all this woman can see is the sinful dances on Saturday nights. They aren’t just square dancing, she says, they’re grab and hug dancing. As a warning, she tells the young woman about two other pregnant women in the camp who lost their babies because of this sin of dancing.

A few moments later, the camp manager walks over to comfort the scared young mother. He tells her that it is true about the two women, but it wasn’t any sin of theirs that caused it. They suffered malnutrition. They couldn’t get rest with the demands of travel and finding work. It’s the sin of the situation, he tells her. It’s the sin of poverty and a wider system that puts people at risk.

Centuries ago, the prophet Isaiah made much the same point. He said that God is not so much interested in our religious ceremonies but our attention to the well-being of the poor and marginalized. Let’s be clear: suffering is not God’s punishment on us; it is often the result of the sin in a situation, and we can do something about that.