March 6, 2022: Full to the Brim: Even in the Desert
Luke 4:1-13
Rev. Rhonda Blevins
Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’”
Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, “To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.” Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.’”
Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written,
‘He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’” Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’” When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.
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Have you ever been to the beach?
Some of my favorite memories have been made at the beach: childhood memories of family vacations and picking up seashells and being buried in the sand, sipping pina coladas on the beach on my honeymoon, playing in the surf with the kids while Fourth of July fireworks lit up the evening sky . . .
What are your favorite memories from the beach?
But here’s what I don’t love about the beach—I don’t love that the sand won’t stay where it’s supposed to stay. I don’t love sand on my beach towel or in my swimsuit. I don’t love sand in my ears or eyes or mouth or (you get the point). I don’t love sand all over the floorboard of my car. You see, I want the sand where I want it. Unfortunately, that’s not the way sand works. It’s not the way life works, either.
I want good times, happiness, positivity—a land flowing with milk and honey. I have no interest in bad times, sadness, negativity—the desert wasteland. But just like the price of enjoying a day at the beach is having sand where I’d rather not have it, the price of living is putting up with the desert times.
I grew up in a Christian tradition that tended to ignore the desert aspect of life. All happy all the time. We didn’t have Advent, the season of waiting for Christ to be born on Christmas day. We didn’t observe Lent, the 40 days (sans Sundays) leading up to Easter. So I learned to appreciate these liturgical seasons in adulthood, after seminary.
Here’s the thing: the “all happy all the time” approach stunts our Christian growth. How can we appreciate the daylight without the darkness? Why would Easter Sunday mean anything without Good Friday?
That’s why I appreciate the season of Lent. Forty days, traditionally, to fast, to empty, to purge—forty days of penitence, the opportunity to empty ourselves of the things of this world so that we can open ourselves to the things of God.
A couple of Latin phrases were coined to talk about these two approaches to faith and understanding God—both developed by Christian theologians in the 3rd Century. The first is via positiva, translated: “the positive way.” The second is via negativa, translated: “the negative way.”
The via positiva describes the active dimension of faith: singing the great hymns of faith, offering prayers with words or images, acts of kindness. Our Easter Sunday celebrations epitomize the via positiva.
But at some point, the God-seeker will find him or herself on the via negativa, the negative path, where there is really no path at all. This is the wilderness, the desert, a place of silence and unknowing. A place of temptation and trial.
Have you ever walked the via negativa? Been in a spiritual wilderness? A spiritual desert?
The desert is where we find Jesus each year on the First Sunday of Lent. This is the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry, right after his baptism. The scripture tells us that Jesus was “full of the Spirit” and “led by the Spirit” as he was in the wilderness alone for 40 days.
And while he was there, Jesus was tempted by the devil. The word for “devil” in the Greek is diabolos, which means “to separate” or “to divide.” A literal translation would be “to throw against.” Jesus was “divided.” On one hand, he wanted to follow God fully and completely, on the other hand, his human desires were so very compelling.
What were Jesus’ human desires? Father Thomas Keating suggests there are three basic, human psychological needs:[1]
Power & Control
Love & Esteem
Safety & Security
Father Henri Nouwen offers three lies borne out of these psychological needs:[2]
The lie borne from the need for Power & Control is: “I am what I do.”
The lie borne from the need for Love & Esteem is: “I am what other people think or say about me.”
The lie borne from the need for Safety & Security is: “I am what I have.”
So Jesus, alone in the wilderness, in the desert, is internally divided. The “devil” plays psychological mind tricks on him:
“Turn these stones into bread.” “Do” this and prove your “power.”
“Jump from the Temple.” Think of what they’ll say about you! Then they’ll love you. Then they’ll revere you.
“Bow down before me.” You’ll “have” everything. Safety & Security are yours.
Jesus offered a holy “no” to each of these lies, and I love how Luke concludes this story:
When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.
Before Jesus was ready to begin his public ministry, he experienced:
The via positiva of his baptism where he heard God offer a 3-part blessing: “This is my son / the beloved / in whom I am well pleased” and
The via negativa of the desert where he heard the devil challenge that 3-part blessing with lies from the pit of hell: “Turn the stones to bread / jump from the Temple / bow down before me.” Power / Esteem / Security can be yours!
“No!” said Jesus. “I’ll stay right here in the desert, thank you very much.”
How was Jesus able to withstand these temptations? These lies from the pit of hell? Remember that Jesus went into the desert “filled with the Spirit?” He was filled with God instead of lies. When we’re “full of the Spirit” like Jesus was when he entered the desert, we don’t have room for the lies of this world. Listen to this clear teaching from James 4:7:
Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.
No room for lies when the Spirit of Truth is in you! Like Jesus, we too can be filled with the voice of blessing as opposed to lies from the pit of hell.
So my friends, on this, the first Sunday in the season of Lent, I invite you to reflect on your life as an individual. Are you on the via positiva, the positive way of light and faith and blessings? Or do you find yourself in the desert with Jesus along the via negativa, the negative way of darkness and doubt and lies? Both are important for our spiritual growth, although many of us prefer the via positiva just like we like the beach without getting sand on our floorboards.
I also invite you to think about our life together. We’ve been in the desert over the past couple of years, we’ve walked the lonely road of pandemic. And now we weep as we hear of the horrors in the Ukraine; some of us are anxious as we face the prospects of years global conflict ahead. Will we be in the desert a while longer? It certainly seems possible.
How can our faith help us when the world seems so out of control? When we find ourselves in a personal desert? We need to remember that we can be full to the brim with the blessings of God even when we find ourselves in the desert.
Here’s a story that might help us understand what that can look like:
Molly Rush, a grandmother and activist associated with the Catholic Worker House in Pittsburg, tells the story of how, when imprisoned for protesting nuclear weapons, she would be allowed to walk in a small outdoor space every day and she began to notice tiny wildflowers growing up in the mud between concrete. Gradually they became her close friends during her lonely times. On being released from jail her senses had become so attuned to wildflowers that she could see them in the cracks while driving down the city’s streets and would swerve to avoid them. She wondered if her next arrest would be for drunk driving because she was often zig zagging so as to avoid running over her flower friends growing in the cracks of the concrete. [3]
The via negativa—the desert—prepares us to experience the via positiva more fully and in more profound ways. Again, “Why would Easter Sunday mean anything without Good Friday?” Would we know light without darkness? Joy without sadness?
What got Jesus through his 40 days in the desert? He remembered. He called upon scripture verses he had learned. He undoubtedly called upon the memory from just days prior—the memory of the blessing he received at his baptism. When we are on the via negativa, we must call upon our memory forged along the via positiva—memories of God’s faithfulness every step along the way.
Hear this promise—the same promise Moses offered to the Hebrew people as they were preparing to enter battles as they sought to claim the Promised Land from Deuteronomy 1:30-31:
The Lord your God, who goes before you, is the one who will fight for you, just as he did for you . . . in the wilderness, where you saw how the Lord your God carried you, just as one carries a child, all the way that you traveled until you reached this place.
[1] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFs0h_FsZ70
[2] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8U4V4aaNWk&t=300s
[3] https://dailymeditationswithmatthewfox.org/2019/08/28/via-positiva-via-negativa-intertwining/#:~:text=For%20example%2C%20Molly%20Rush%2C%20a,up%20in%20the%20mud%20between