Wilderness Testing
Luke 4:1-13
When we Canadians think of “wilderness”, we imagine virgin forests, free from human
interference, but full of life and the potential for life. But ours is a very different perspective and
experience from that of the people of the Bible. For them, wilderness was desert – a wild place, a place
of dryness – often a place of death.
Just after Christmas this year, I enjoyed a week of holidays with two friends; we went to Las
Vegas. And no, I’m NOT going to tell you what happened there because, you know… “what happens
in Vegas stays in Vegas”. Except to say that, apart from the usual round of casinos and a Cirque de
Soleil show, we did rent a car and managed to get out into the countryside – to see the Hoover Dam to
the east of the city, for example, and Red Rock Canyon to the west. What a fascinating desert
landscape: so many different colours of green vegetation, and so many different colours and shapes of
rock and sand formations. Beautiful. But I wouldn’t want to be out there all by myself in the middle of
the night!
The desert is dangerous and mysterious. Throughout recorded history, people living near deserts
have known this. They have expressed their wariness and suspicion by peopling the desert – [in their
legends, myths and stories] – with demons and evil spirits, and by considering people who live and
survive in the desert as heroic – almost superhuman – people.
Suspended between the 2 worlds of the natural and the supernatural, the desert is the place where
one can meet God, or – just as likely – meet Satan.
And so the desert is a place of testing – of discernment – of weighing one’s options. The Bible
sees the wilderness as a place of solitude and silence, where worldly concerns and distractions are left
behind, for a time, leaving a choice – a choice between good and evil, between God and Satan.
The archetypal story of “wilderness testing” in the Bible is, of course, the EXODUS, where
the Hebrew people, having escaped from slavery in Egypt, wander in the desert for 40 years, where God
further tests and ‘refines’ them.
But many other incidents of “wilderness testing” are found in the Scriptures:
ELIJAH – frightened – flees to the wilderness, where he is tested, refined and then renewed in
his mission.
JOHN THE BAPTIST lives in the wilderness, a wild, uninhabited region along the lower
Jordan.
And, of course, JESUS was lead into the wilderness by God’s Spirit after his baptism, to test his
understanding of God’s call.
For us, of course, wilderness is not necessarily a physical, geographical “place”, but may also be
a “state of mind” – or, more accurately maybe, a “state of heart or soul”, any place where our integrity is
tested, any time in which we experience spiritual dryness or a loss of purpose and direction to our lives.
It was in this “desert place” where Jesus struggled with his own pre-suppositions, where he
reflected on the religious teachings of his childhood and youth, and the direction for his own faith and
ministry. And we all do this as adults – [or at least we should do it] - either knowingly and
intentionally, or tacitly and ‘by default’. We recall/remember the religious teaching of our childhood
and youth, and we either retain it - or we reject it – or (best case scenario, perhaps), we adjust it and
refine it and reclaim it. We discern what is good and life-giving for us and, therefore, worthy of
keeping. And we reject what is unhelpful and destructive. This process – [this discernment] – is just
part of growing up and being an adult.
In a sense, this is about determining our identity – not only who we are, but the kind of person
we want to be, the kind of life we want to live, the kind of world we want to help create and live in.
All of the things with which Jesus was tempted are present in our lives and in our world as well.
1
Jesus was tempted, at first, with bread; that is, Jesus was tempted to put his trust in material
things. But he rejects that, because he knows that slavery to “things” renders one incapable of
generous self-giving, and leaves one in a wilderness of empty affluence.
And Jesus was tempted with power, the implication being that political strategy was the only
way to succeed. And he rejects that, too, because he knows that that, also, will eventually entrap and
enslave.
He was also tempted with the desire for certainty. And he rejects that temptation as well,
because he knows that in seeking “certainty above all else”, he would lose his freedom, and become just
a “puppet”, following God’s predetermined “blueprint” for his life.
The purpose of a test, I suppose, is “to find out something that we didn’t already know”. I guess
we could say that the purpose of the tests that Jesus endured in the wilderness was to find out “what
kind of stuff he was made of”, to discover “who he really was”. And the way the story is told, both
God and Satan (or “the Devil” as he’s called in Luke’s gospel) have a stake in the outcome.
Of course, the story is written as a drama. And we don’t have to believe that it actually
happened that way. But the elements in the story ring true to our experience, don’t they? When we
are under stress in some difficult situation – [feeling our health or our financial security threatened,
feeling beaten down by a series of reversals in our personal life] – in situations like these, it often seems
like the only real freedom we have is the freedom to choose how we will respond. We can respond
by caving, by giving up; we can respond by taking the easy way out, or wallowing in self-pity.
OR…we can respond by reminding ourselves of our core values and being true to them, by taking the
high road, by acting in ways that will ensure that we emerge from this time of testing with our selfrespect intact and no need for self-recrimination.
I’ve heard it argued that suffering – [the tests and temptations, the trials and tribulations of life] –
don’t so much build character as they reveal the character that is already there.
And so we are not surprised when Jesus “passes” his test in the wilderness. Based on what we
already know of him (from other parts of the story), it is to be expected that he would resist the wiles of
the devil and remain faithful to the ways of God.
For us, too, performance under pressure may reveal the character that is already there. But what
makes perhaps a better story – [and certainly a more interesting story] - is when someone acts out of
character and does much better than we might have expected of them (and I invite you now to cast
your minds back to Linda’s sermon last week on “stereotypes”.) People don’t always act in the ways we
think they will!
Sydney Carton, the cynical, hard-drinking lawyer in Charles Dickens’ “A Tale of Two Cities”,
does that when he substitutes himself for a man who is about to go to the guillotine. In making this
sacrifice, he famously says, “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done…”
That’s fiction, of course.
But in real life, we have the womanizing, partying, self-centred Oskar Schindler (whose story is
told in the movie “Schindler’s List”) also acting out of character when – [despite pressure from the
Nazis] – he takes huge risks in order to save the lives of hundreds of Jews.
There is hope in stories like these. It’s the hope that – [in the trials that come to all of us in
life] – those of us whose natural instinct is to “look out for Number One” may act out of character, and
discover something better in ourselves than we knew was there – to rise above the self-centred and
humdrum, to do something more noble and redemptive.
So what are the tests in which we are engaged? Choosing between right and wrong – or, more
realistically, between “the lesser of two evils”? Discerning what is life-giving and what is lifedestroying, not only for us, but for our communities and for the world? Struggling to act in ways that
nurture justice and equality for all people? Working against the forces of sexism, racism, homophobia
and classism that still exist in our world today? These are our tests – [in some ways different, but at
some level, very much the same struggles as Jesus had] – materialism, power, freedom.
2
The purpose of Lent is to “take stock” of our lives – to place ourselves, as it were, in a
“wilderness place” for a time, where – [with some intentionality and thought] – we reflect on our
relationship with God and how that relationship impacts the way we live our lives in the world.
Different people, from different traditions, do this in different ways. Some “give up” something
for Lent - usually a bad habit or an unhealthy vice. Fortunately, I have none of these, so this doesn’t
apply to me.
Others “create space” in their lives – [the 40 days of Lent] – to devote to something that will
“build them up” and “feed their spirits” – going on a retreat, participating in a study group, supporting
some worthy group or undertaking some volunteer work in the community – or by committing to do
something to make the world a better place [our 2016 Lenten calendar, with “40 ideas to reduce your
carbon footprint”, being a perfect example in quintessential United Church style!]
We enrich ourselves through these Lenten experiences because we re-discover, like Jesus, that
we are, in fact, quite capable of making good choices. When we enter willingly and with open hearts
and minds into this time of discernment (keeping in mind that it was God’s Spirit, not Satan, that lead
Jesus into the wilderness to be tested), we discover that – [even in the wilderness – maybe especially in
the wilderness] – we are in the presence of God.
Thanks be to God.
Warren McDougall
Richmond Hill United Church
February 14/16 (Lent 1)
3