The Rev. Seth Olson

Testing, Failing, and Welcoming

February 26, 2023

Holy Trinity, One God, let my words be your words, and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I am grateful and my family is grateful for paternity leave, which gifted me with precious time getting to welcome Lucia Rose Olson as she transitioned to this world. 

While I was not working officially as a priest and instead as a parent, I gained some insights: parenting multiple children is harder than one child, stay-at-home parenting is no joke, and retailers can charge whatever they want when selling things related to babies—the same goes for weddings. I also remembered an idea I had previously had that will at first sound like an non sequitur: it would be helpful to have an average person competing against pro athletes, like at the Olympics. Wouldn’t that be useful to the spectator to see average Jane or average Joe competing against Patrick Mahomes, Alex Morgan, or Leonel Messi?

Well, today’s Gospel made me think of that last insight again. Could any of us withstand what Jesus weathered in the wilderness? While Jesus’ spiritual fortitude is actually not the point of this message, it’s remarkable what Jesus overcame in facing the tempter—fasting for forty days and nights, denying sustenance, not testing God’s love for him, and resisting worldly power and prestige. Wow! But, if Jesus’ spiritual accomplishments in overcoming temptations is not the point, then what is?

We’ll get to the point in a bit. First let’s take a step back. Last week in church we heard the story of the Transfiguration, and in that passage Peter, James, and John heard God speak from a cloud. What did God say? Our Parent God said almost exactly what was spoken when John baptized Jesus: this is my son, the Beloved with whom I am well pleased. Except up that high mountain was added, “Listen to him!”

Today we jump back to right after Jesus’ baptism. Here it is worth us heeding the holy cloud’s command to listen to Jesus so that we can discern why his overcoming temptations impacts our lives—other than us thinking Jesus sure is good at overcoming temptations.

When we listen to this text for today what do we hear? Jesus, the beloved, was lead into the wilderness—not on his own accord, but by the Spirit. And, before you think the wilderness means a pleasant, nature retreat pause, for in these days, wilderness was where chaos and hardship persisted. Jesus being Spirit-driven into challenge sounds different than prosperity-gospel-peddlers who promise ultimate blessings upon baptism. Jesus instead faced hardship after hardship once emerging from the Jordan.

While these challenges were all different, at the core of these temptations though was a single question: To what extent are you going to trust in God? Which brings us to the point of this passage, not just for Jesus, but for us too. Bidden or unbidden, God remains faithfully present in our lives—God’s love never stops, never ends, never faulters—and our beautifully challenging work is to receive that grace, then mimic God’s faithfulness and love despite what challenges we face, just like Jesus modeled for us.

Thankfully, it is not a competition, but rather a journey of cooperation. For, if I were placed alongside Jesus in an overcoming-temptation contest, it would show just how self-centered I am and how self-sufficient I try to be. I’m not alone though. Recently I read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe with Teddy, my five-year-old. Do you remember this story? In it, a character named Edmund faces very similar temptations to Jesus, and his failings informed me that I’m not alone in my ability to fail!

If it’s been awhile since you’ve read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the tale takes place in England during the Second World War, for their safety four siblings (Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy) are shipped to the country to live with an eccentric professor. In the professor’s large estate, Lucy, then Edmund, then the others stumble into a magical world called Narnia via an old, stately wardrobe in the spare room. Many lessons can be exhumed from this classic story—about the mysterious nature of God; about how purity, valor, and truthfulness are virtues worth pursuing; and about God’s wild and fierce nature! Sadly, what I noticed upon this rereading of the story was that despite my protestations as a child, “I am a lot like Edmund,” (the angsty, bratty, and childish younger brother in the story)—I really am like him.

Edmund, like Jesus, faced temptations. Unlike Jesus, Edmund failed. Instead of the devil, he faced Jadis the White Witch who spellbound the whole of Narnia such that it was always winter but never Christmas—boo! Instead of bread, Edmund was offered Turkish delights—he took them. Instead of being almost thrown off the Temple, he did throw himself into the clutches of the witch—putting Aslan, the Christ character, to the test. Instead of power over all kingdoms, Edmund was wooed simply by power over his older brother Peter. Edmund failed and failed and failed again. As a child I may not have succumbed to the same temptations, but upon further reflection I acted like Edmund more than I cared to admit.

What I am starting to see now—with the gift of failures and hindsight—is that temptations come in many shapes, sizes, and disguises. Quite often, like Edmund, I fail and fail and fail again.

Don’t I often seek sustenance not from a stone-turned-bread, but from things that destroy the earth? This year’s All Saints-wide Lenten practice of Creation Care reminds me that all those plastics that wrap my foods, all the food I throw out, and all the resources I waste rob the planet and future generations of vitality and life. The Turkish delights caused less harm than this!

Also, don’t I put God to the test when I pray for and then expect specific outcomes? Even when it’s asking for good things for those in need, if I am not yearning for, thy will to be done, when these prayers do not come to fruition I am more weary to trust in God’s unwavering faithfulness and presence in my life!

Finally, don’t I want power and control, so things go my way? This yearning can be idolatrous, as I put myself in God’s place. Worship—as in what we give worth to in our lives—is not meant to be a self-centered exercise, rather it is meant to decentralize our egos, such that we become entuned with how we can best serve God through loving our neighbors as ourselves and as God wants. A byproduct of this temptation is that I place my happiness in the results and outcomes of life, instead of learning that whether in the valley of failure or on the mountaintop of victory my task is not the result, but to trust ever deeper in the Divine One who walks with me—who walks with all of us always.

If we listen to the beloved Son of God, what lay at the heart of Jesus’ challenges was a question: will you trust in God? Will you trust in God, even when you are hungry? Will you put the trustworthiness of God to the test when things go from challenging to life-threatening? Will you trust in God even if power and prestige and control are offered?

Jesus, fully divine and fully human, overcame all these challenges not simply by floating through them via some divine, easy button. He made it through this exhausting encounter by relying upon God. When offered bread, he relied on God’s Word. When the Devil misquoted Holy Scripture tempting Jesus to test God, Jesus relied upon his deep faith in the Father. When the tempter offered power and control over all the kingdoms of the world if Jesus would but worship the Devil, Jesus trusted in the God of not just worldly powers but infinite power.

So, if the point is that God is faithful and loving always, and Jesus models a faithful response in the face of temptation, what is the implication for us? To trust God. We might wonder how we trust in God. There are a multitude of ways to deepen our faith. I really like Brad’s suggestion—posted on Facebook—that one should ask a friend or beloved to prescribe not a vindictive but a helpful Lenten practice that will grow one’s trust in God. Still even when we mess up, even when we fall short, like an average person versus a pro athlete, even when we fail harder than Edmund in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, God remains faithful—continuing to trust us.

I want to offer a challenging prayer, which has helped me to deepen my trust in God, as I slowly relinquish temptations in this life. It’s called the “Welcoming Prayer” and it is attributed to the late, contemplative giant Father Thomas Keating. Let us pray.

Welcome, welcome, welcome. I welcome everything that comes to me today because I know it’s for my healing. I welcome all thoughts, feelings, emotions, persons, situations, and conditions. I let go of my desire for power and control. I let go of my desire for affection, esteem, approval, and pleasure. I let go of my desire for survival and security. I let go of my desire to change any situation, condition, person, or myself. I open to the love and presence of God and God’s healing action within. Amen.