First Sunday of Lent

 Lectionary: 24

Because he clings to me I will deliver him;
because he knows my name I will set him on high.
He will call upon me and I will answer;
I will be with him in distress;
I will deliver him and give him honor.

 

The gospels describe Jesus as always ready with a reply to opponents, be they Pharisees, Sadducees, or Satan. But we should not suppose he always felt at the top of his game, or that he never needed to hear an encouraging word. 

There's nothing like solitude to convince strong persons of their weakness, especially if the isolated individual is cut off from every medium of communication. With neither paper nor pen; with no books, magazines, or clay tablets; no email, texts, or social media, no mirror! one is left to face the faceless void of naked existence. Only hunger, thirst, heat, cold, and loneliness can assure the isolated they exist. Prison guards have used isolation to tame the wildest inmates for centuries; after a while something breaks in the soul. When the rocks start looking like bread, you know you're in trouble. 

Jesus learned today's responsorial psalm (91) as a child and carried it in his heart as a furious Holy Spirit drove him into the wilderness.  That and many other verses were his food and drink during that long fast. So he must have laughed out loud when the tempter used a verse of Psalm 91 in their rabbinic debate. Taken out of context, as biblical misquoters like to do, the words might be read as an assurance that God's favored Son should never suffer disappointment, discouragement, or failure.  He should feel invincible all the time!  

"He will command his angels concerning you, to guard you,"

and, 

"With their hands they will support you, lest you dash your foot against a stone.”

But Mary and Joseph never raised a fool. The same Hebrew scriptures from Genesis to Malachi taught Jesus that God's elect would enjoy no privilege in this world except the continuing favor of God. Nor would that favor be anything like a good feeling, a warm fuzzy. The world is full of cold pricklies and God's people are intimately familiar with them. 

If Jesus could not feel the presence of God in the wilderness he nonetheless knew who he was in the face of temptation. He knew he could not turn stones to bread, Nor could he worship Satan or throw himself off the parapet of the temple. As a free man he could do anything he wanted to do but the tempter had nothing to offer. 

On the first Sunday of Lent the Church reminds us of our freedom; we have the authority to just say no. We are immersed in a nation obsessed with the pursuit of satisfaction and pleasure, a nation of fools.  They seek pleasures that begin with simple fun and lead to the bizarre. They believe in the pursuit of happiness as if it's a God given right. They are obsessed with the fear of pain and discomfort; they live in dread of failure and futility. Their obsessive pursuit of more powerful technologies tells them, "If it's possible, it's morally acceptable. Do it!" 

Finally, when confronted with disappointment, they cannot answer Satan's most obvious question, "Why should I not kill myself?" They die in droves. 

On Ash Wednesday the Lord reminded us of three traditional ways of practicing penance: fasting, almsgiving, and prayer. Each requires deliberate time, energy, and sacrifice. Each demands that we say no to other choices. We turn off the electronics to pray; we exercise portion control during each meal; we spend time, energy, and money on something other than the self. Gazing into the Mirror of Perfection -- the Lord, Mary, or the saints -- we see our own sinfulness. 

During Lent we come away for awhile to be apart from a world that is rapidly sinking into madness. We stay with the Lord in the wilderness. We ask his guidance even as we learn to prefer his company to anything this world might offer.