Lead Us Not Into Temptation

 

1^st Sunday of Lent

Cycle C

 

Have you ever spent any meaningful time out in the desert? I remember the first time I was in the desert. I was about nine or ten, and my dad and I went on a camping trip to the Mojave Desert. We just pitched our camp in the open, with no one for miles around us. That night I woke up around 2:00am and poked my head out of the tent. The night was dead quiet. Not even a slight breeze. And the stars, man, there were more stars than I had ever seen before in my life. It was as if the entire Milky Way was spread out above me. I stood there mesmerized for a minute, looking up, but then I was overcome with an irrational fear.  It was very dark, even in starlight, and my imagination took over. There were scary things out there. It felt like I was being watched. I felt alone, but not alone at the same time. It was exciting yet unnerving at the same time. And so, I ducked back into the tent where it was safe. That experience has stayed with me all these years.

 

The desert is a very unique place, both barren and beautiful at the same time. It seems to be devoid of life but actually teems with living creatures. You just can’t see them in the daytime, they’re beneath the surface. Living here in the mountains we see the splendor and majesty of God’s creation all around us. There is so much life visible here, the trees, lakes, rivers, and all the wildlife. The desert is so different than the mountains. It is more mysterious and dangerous. There is something about the desert that attracts us and frightens us at the same time. I think what attracts me to the desert the most is the silence. It makes sense that Jesus often went to the desert to escape the noise of the world and the crowds. There is a sense of peace in desolation.

 

God is found in the quiet places. God is found in desolation. God is found in the most unlikely of ways. God is encountered many times in the desert in scripture. Abraham met God in the three travelers who came to his tent for hospitality. Moses saw God in the burning bush. Elijah experienced God in the still soft voice whispering to him in a cave. We also experience God in the most unlikely places, oftentimes while we are in the desert wastelands of our lives. At those times we may feel lost and alone, yet life is still there, beneath the surface, hidden from our sight for a time.

 

Jesus often went to out into the desert to prepare and recharge in the presence of his Father, but this time was different. Just before this gospel passage Luke tells us the story of Jesus’ baptism. Something very powerful happened to Jesus at his baptism. As he came out of the water the Spirit descended on him in the form of a dove, and he heard a voice from heaven say, “You are my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased.” This was not a new revelation to Jesus. God was not telling him for the first time that he was his son. Jesus had divine knowledge, so he knew who he was and what his Father’s will for him was. He had gone to the Jordan to declare himself publicly. This was an affirmation and a sign that his hour had come, the time he had been waiting for his entire life. It must have been exciting and also a bit unnerving at the same time.

 

So, it makes sense that Jesus would want to go somewhere to prepare. Luke says that Jesus was led into the desert by the spirit. In Mark’s gospel it says the Spirit drove him into the desert. Led or driven, the Spirit of God took him there.

He needed to focus acutely on what he needed to do going forward. And the desert has a special way of focusing someone, especially if fasting is involved. Jesus removed everything but him and God. The desert is not only barren; the need to survive its brutality strips away all other needs. In the quiet and simplicity of the desert Jesus could hear the voice of his Father most clearly.

 

But he could also hear that nagging voice in his head clearly. Jesus was not questioning who he was or what he was to do, he was considering the alternatives. The devil was simply pointing out an easier way for Jesus that wouldn’t require all that suffering and misunderstanding. Maybe there was a way to make people see who he really was rather than help them to come to that belief on their own. He could prove it so easily. And they could all be saved, and wasn’t that the purpose of it all anyway?

 

He knew his mission was to upend the powers of the day. Satan tempted him to take that power for himself. If he overthrew the Romans, they wouldn’t torture and kill him. And wouldn’t it be a good thing if he were the earthly king, benevolent and merciful? Wouldn’t the people benefit? Of course he could turn those stones into bread. How many people could he feed with that power? And why not himself first? And not just bread, but any possession he could ever desire could be his, just by desiring it. And why did he have to suffer? Didn’t scripture say that the angels would protect him so he wouldn’t stumble? And if he didn’t have to suffer, why should anyone else?

 

It was so easy. All Jesus had to do was think about his own needs and not the will of his Father. All Jesus had to do was use his power for good. All Jesus had to do was deny his very self, and that was something he could not do.

 

Isn’t that what temptation is? It doesn’t just come out of nowhere and put an unnatural idea into our heads. The idea is already there, the devil just wants us to consider the alternatives. It seems to make so much sense. If we are powerful, we can use that power selfishly. If we are weak, we can stop trying to be strong. We can rationalize it any way we want, and the more we do, the easier it is to give into it. Can it be wrong to do this if my intentions are good? Think of all the people I could help? Think of the greater good.

 

Temptation is most difficult if we are tempted to do something that is fully within our power to do. Temptation is simply taking our focus off God and putting it on ourselves. And that’s why it is so easy to succumb to it.

 

It is so easy. All we have to do was think about our own needs and not the will of the Father. All we have to do was use our power for good. All we have to do is deny our very selves. Unlike Jesus, we do that all the time.

 

But you don’t have to. Like Jesus, we have a choice. Like Jesus, we do not have to give in to our temptations. You are not alone. Like Jesus, we can go to the desert and be in the presence of our Father.  Enter into the desert of Lent. Focus your time and energy not on your own needs and desires but on God’s will for you. Meditate on the scriptures to better understand where they are leading you. Spend more time in prayer. Fast from what is causing you to sin. Be more charitable to others.

 

And then, like Jesus, emerge from the desert with a strong sense of purpose and resolve, with clarity of what you are called to do to build the kingdom of God.

Post-it Notes

 

7^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle C

1 SM 26:2, 7-9, 12-13, 22-23

1 COR 15:45-49

LK 6:27-38

Have you ever wanted to change a behavior or correct a bad habit or fix a relationship, and you put a plan together to do so? Or have you ever wanted to grow in a virtue or nurture a good behavior? Do you hear today’s gospel and think, “I need to get better at doing these things”. I have, many times, and yet I always seem to fall back into the old behaviors and habits. My plans always fall short of my desires and expectations. It is very hard to teach an old dog new tricks.

 

My plans are always well thought out and elegant. I read lots of books and articles that give me the recipe for success, usually a bunch of things to do that would make me a great person. I write these tips on pieces of paper and tape them to the walls of my office or stick them in my bible or breviary. Sometimes I stick a post-it note on my computer screen with a virtue I want to cultivate. This month’s virtue is prudence. Then I make an effort to read them every morning or evening. The idea is that if I affirm them long enough they will seep into my psyche and I will change. My plans give me a sense of control. See, I’m doing something.

 

But invariably what happens is that eventually I stop seeing those pieces of paper on my wall and I go back to my more established, comfortable way of living, which is centered around me and what I want. I can never remember to do all those things. And it is mentally exhausting because I always have to be on guard. It is so much easier to just go with my instincts, so much easier to react rather than be proactive. And so it becomes a never-ending cycle and nothing much changes.

 

Jesus gives us his famous teaching about loving our neighbors today. We are all familiar with this passage. Love your enemies. Turn the other cheek. The Golden Rule. Judge not. Much of what it means to be a Christian disciple can be found here. They are behaviors we can emulate and strive to live by. They are all things we can post on our walls.  We can practice them in concrete ways. I can lend without expecting repayment. I can give to the poor. I can try not to be judgmental. See, Lord, I am giving it my best effort. I’m a good person because I am trying to be good.

 

The problem is, I think that too often we see these things as part of some spiritual self-help program. Just like me with my self-improvement plans, we see them as skills to develop, not ways of changing our world view for the better. And, if we see them simply as tasks to complete, eventually we lose interest in them. We only hear these words spoken every once in a while. We do not make them habits, part of our regular, comfortable way of doing things. How can we make the life-giving changes to our lives that will make us true disciples?

 

We need to find a way to start focusing not so much on the behaviors we want to foster in ourselves as on the people we need to love. We need to stop thinking in terms of all the things we need to do and start seeing people differently, as Jesus sees them. If you want long term behavior change, don’t change your attitudes, change how you see things. If you want better relationships with others, view them differently. Change your mindset and your point of view. The things you do will then naturally follow.

 

We too often see these teachings as being the thing, when they’re not the thing. They are only results of the thing. They are the things we do because of the real thing.

 

The real thing is people.

 

How we see people, how we think about people, how we treat people is directly related to who we think they are and how we see them in relation to ourselves. The reason we fail so often in living these teachings of Jesus is because we don’t see people the way Jesus sees them. Jesus did all these things: He fed the hungry, gave sight to the blind, cured the lame, gave to the poor, came not to judge but to show mercy. And I bet you he didn’t have to tape a list of these behaviors on his bedroom wall to remind him and help him get better. He did them because they were the natural result of how he viewed everyone he came in contact with. It was easy for him to do them because they were the direct outcomes of who he is and who we are. They are the direct outcomes of love.

 

And it should be easier for us to do also because of who we are and who He is. How many of you have children? As you raise them, do you ever think twice about feeding them, clothing them, giving them shelter, taking care of them when they are sick or hurt, consoling them when they are upset? Do you have to put up a list of these behaviors on the refrigerator next to their artwork to remind you how to act? Of course not. You do them easily and naturally and without complaint because you love your children. You want the best for them not because you want to be the best parent in the world, but because that’s what love is and what love does. We do these things for the ones we love easily and naturally, without planning or a second thought.

 

St. Augustine once said, “Love, then do as you will”. You cannot love outside of God, because God is love. Jesus acted the way he did because he is love itself. He could not act any other way. We are all called not just as disciples but as human beings to act out of love for one another. Augustine went on to preach, “If you hold your peace, hold your peace out of love. If you cry out, cry out in love. If you correct someone, correct them out of love. If you spare them, spare them out of love. Let the root of love be in you: nothing can spring from it but good.”

 

It really isn’t that hard to live out the teachings of the Lord. Just keep it simple. Hear the word of God in today’s readings and use those behaviors as measurements of how well you are loving. Don’t focus on the doing, focus on love. Get yourself out of the way and stop trying to force your behavior to change. If you strive to serve others out of love, you will do all those things Jesus asks of you, and more besides. See others as Jesus sees them, and you will treat them as Jesus treats them. See each and every person you come in contact with as having the worth and dignity of a beloved son or daughter of the Father, and your behavior towards them will follow.

 

And the best thing, by focusing on loving others, you will also be loved. You will get as good as you give.

 

Give, and gifts will be given to you;
a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing,
will be poured into your lap.

 

 

A Considerable Person

 

Neh 8:2-4a, 5-6,8-10

1 Cor 12:12-30

Lk 1:1-4; 4:14-21

 

 

I’m a great lover of the epic films of the 50s and 60s. One of my favorites is Ben Hur. Apart from the great battle scenes and the chariot race, another, less dramatic scene has always struck me. When Judah Ben Hur returns home to Jerusalem after years in the galleys and then in Rome, he finds his trusted steward, Simonides, can no longer walk due to the torture he received at the hands of the Romans. Through all his suffering, he remained loyal to his master and never disclosed the whereabouts of his fortune. Though he is crippled, the small, frail Simonides had befriended another released prisoner, a giant of a man who was mute. Simonides says to his master, “He has no tongue and I have no legs. For the past three years I have been his tongue and he has been my legs. Together we make a considerable man!”

 

It’s a lot like that with the Body of Christ.

 

Paul’s analogy of the body is an especially strong one. The human body is the most complex, sophisticated mechanism ever devised, and when it is healthy, every cell, organ and system works in complete harmony. When even the smallest part is sick, that harmony is broken. Not so with the Body of Christ.

 

The Body of Christ is made up of incomplete parts - broken parts - none of which can function well without the others. But together we make a considerable person. Individually we may be weak, but together we are strong, because our stronger parts support the weaker, and the weaker parts soften the stronger ones. And all parts are necessary.

 

What would the body be without a head to keep everything working in harmony? A central organizing force that uses faith and reason to help discern God’s will for the body? But just because we aren’t all the head doesn’t mean we aren’t necessary for the survival of the body.

 

What would the body be without eyes?  Eyes open to the reality of others’ lives. Eyes weeping along with a person in pain. Not just seeing Jesus in others but seeing others as Jesus sees them. Who are the eyes of the Body of Christ?

 

Who are the ears? Listening actively. Communicating to the body what others are saying. Hearing the world. Experiencing the music and joy of life.

 

Who are the hands? Touching lives, holding other hands; building, giving, reaching out to others. Hands that are calloused from hard work yet soft from tender touch. 

 

Who are the feet? Walking along with others. Supporting the body, carrying it forward on our journey.

 

I really find it interesting how Paul treats the less presentable parts. The parts we’re a bit embarrassed to show off to the world. The most vulnerable parts, those that cannot protect themselves. Do we ignore them and treat them with less respect? No, we give them more honor. We protect them. We shroud them in mystery. Who are the less presentable parts in this parish, in this world?

 

Some parts of the body are rarely felt and seen, yet without them the body would die. These are the quiet people who pray for the church, who do great deeds in secret. Who offer up their suffering for the salvation of the body. These are the heart of the body.

 

But even the missing parts are felt. Like an amputee who still feels the phantom limb, when parts are missing, we’re incomplete. Some parts are like my good friend Dave, who has been missing lately because of a painful divorce. He doesn’t feel comfortable in the church these days.

 

Some are like Chris, missing because her son died over two years ago, and she still can’t face questions about him from her well-meaning friends. These parts may be missing but we are weakened by their absence. They are still part of the body.

 

And finally, there are parts of the body that are useful, yet unfeeling. They go through the motions on autopilot, showing up every once in awhile, not really knowing why, or following along blindly wherever the rest of the body wants to go. Until they can fill their proper role, we’ll carry them along.

 

Diversity is a big focus these days. We celebrate and honor our differences. They’re what give us our richness and fullness. Each one of us brings something special to the body. Our own unique talents and gifts, all given to us by our creator. But to us, diversity isn’t a new idea. St. Paul taught diversity two thousand years before it was the popular thing to do.

 

But diversity without unity is empty and selfish. Without unity the body cannot function. What if each foot wanted to walk in a different direction? What if one ear only heard this belief and the other a contradictory one? Being different doesn’t mean we each do our own thing without considering the good of the whole. Jesus calls us all to be united in purpose, united in him through faith. There must be a balance between diversity and unity.

 

Some people get so hung up on what they cannot do in the body that they lose sight of the things they can do. Paul says that not everyone is called to be the head, not everyone can be the eyes, or the ears, or the feet. That doesn’t make any of them more or less important to the body. There is no room for ambition in the Body of Christ.

 

And, interestingly, rarely is someone just acting as one part of the Body. We all serve as eyes and ears, hands and feet, heart and soul, oftentimes moving effortlessly from one role to another without thinking as the needs arise. It’s a lot like in other areas of our lives. We all have so many roles to play, and somehow or other we keep them all straight and they all combine in one single person. But all roles are not equally important, and some are more definitively laid out, as Paul describes today.

 

What is your role?

 

Are you an apostle, one who is sent to witness to Christ because you know him personally?

 

Are you a prophet, one who speaks the truth against great opposition, even if it’s just from your own children?

 

Are you a teacher, either by training or as a parent or mentor?

 

Do you do mighty deeds? Just keeping the faith in today’s society is a mighty deed.

 

Are you a healer of the body, or even just a good listener?

 

Do you feed the body by giving assistance to the poor and the hungry?

 

Are you an administrator, doing the thousands of thankless tasks that make the body run smoothly?

 

Do you speak in tongues, praising God in your own unique way?

 

Do you take care of the body? Do you keep it clean and healthy? Give it regular check ups to make sure all the parts are operating as they should. Do you feed it with healthy spiritual food?

 

Do you build it up or do you abuse it? Do you tear it down, always complaining about what you feel is wrong with it instead of looking for solutions to our problems? Do you put down other members, cutting them off from the rest, making them feel unwanted?

 

Just like our physical bodies, the Body of Christ requires constant care and nourishment in order to remain healthy and strong. Every part must be aware not only of what it individually needs but how it affects the entire body. Sometimes that requires individuals to humbly suppress their own desires for the good of the whole. And just as the stronger parts support the weaker ones, the weakest should do everything they can to become stronger.

 

It is through our physical bodies that we experience the good and the bad, joys and sorrows of life. They are the vehicles that God has given us to make our way through life here on earth to eternal life in heaven. Our bodies enable us to join together in relationship with others, so we can journey together. That unity is what gives life purpose and meaning.

 

That unity is the Body of Christ. We’re all in this together, and it's together that we do make a considerable person.