Our Belovedness Tested

Christians are in the beginning week of Lent, the Church tradition of walking with Jesus for the 40-days leading up to Easter (not including Sundays).

The lectionary this year began the first Sunday of Lent with Jesus' temptation in the wilderness as found in Matthew 4:1-11.

Many churches across the world opened our Bibles on Sunday to Matthew 4 and jumped straight into the text of Jesus fasting in the wilderness for 40-days and then being tempted by the Devil. 

In my freshman year of college, I took a course through the Gospel of Matthew from Dr. Edmund Janzen. We read through Matthew chronologically, spending significant time with each story as they built on each other. I remember Dr. Janzen teaching through Matthew 4 showing the three temptations Jesus had to overcome: economic, religious and political. What so few church attenders realize (especially since we so often read the Sunday text on the screen instead of the scripture in our hands) is how the story of Jesus is building story-by-story. Only after Dr. Janzen spent significant time in Matthew 3 (and probably a test too!) did he proceed to Jesus' temptation in the wilderness in chapter 4. I imagine most pastors framed their Sunday sermon within verses of 1-11 without acknowledging one important word, "Then." 

In every translation, Matthew 4:1 begins with "then." 

"Then" is not a preposition providing a nice transition into a new story but a linking adverb, linking the moving parts of the previous story with the new one being told - helping the story of Jesus build.

What story came before Jesus' Temptation? 

Jesus' Baptism.

Most people refer to Matthew 4 as a time of Jesus being tested, but what was it he was tested on?

It wouldn't make sense to be given a test on material you hadn't yet learned. So we have to use the "then" linking adverb and look back a chapter to see what Jesus had just learned that the Tempter is testing him on.

Matthew 3:16-17 reads, "And after being baptized, Jesus went up immediately from the water; and behold, the heavens were opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending as a dove, and coming upon Him, and behold, a voice out of the heavens saying, 'This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased.'" 

The three take-aways Jesus learned at His baptism were:

1. He is God's Son

2. He is Loved

3. God, His Father, is well-pleased with Him

Jesus' baptism is central to His story because until He believes these truths, until He is confident with whose He is and who He is, He will not be successful at bringing God's Kingdom on earth.

In the desert, the Devil was testing to see if Jesus trusts that he is indeed God's Beloved. The three lessons Jesus learned at His baptism could be applied to His three temptations in the wilderness.

Will Jesus trust in the goodness of God when He is hungry and is lacking basic needs? (4:3-4) Jesus is confident He is God's Son and that God would provide for His needs.

Will Jesus follow the Way of His Father, the way of love, when the way of the world has seeped into religion and is scheming with power, manipulation, and abuse? (4:5-7) Jesus is confident that He is loved even when religion tells Him He is not enough and manipulates laws to bait and trap Him.

Will He trust to follow His Father in the way of sacrifice when politics are against Him and the kingdoms of this earth threaten Him with glory and power? (4:8-10) Jesus is confident that His Father is pleased with Him so He has no need to seek glory or power.

As I consider my own life and the temptations I face, I am struck at realizing how often I disregard the truth of being God's Beloved Daughter, the core identity so foundation to Jesus' life and ministry. I so frequently hear the lies that I'm not enough and not wanted that the contrary and truthful voice of Jesus has a hard time getting through the onslaught of lying voices. I can't even begin to settle into the God-being-pleased with me part of Jesus' baptism because I still haven't wholly and completely believed I am God's Beloved Daughter. Lord, in Your mercy, hear my prayers. I'm sure I'm not the only one.

Oh, I know I'm loved intellectually, but...

    ...do my actions reflect that belief? 
    ...does my self-talk reflect that belief?
    ...do I have courage to live in a way that shows the world that belief?

On Sunday our pastor encouraged us to follow the way of Jesus in the wilderness by combatting the lies of the Devil with truths from the Scriptures. The verse I commit to memorizing deep in my heart is the voice of the Father to Jesus, "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased." I'll change the 'son' to daughter, and then speak this breath-prayer as a form of retaliation against the aggressive voices seeking to diminish and dispose of me.

As the powers of this world continue to attempt to silence our uniqueness as God's creation and erase our belovedness let us lean into the truth that Jesus modeled and invites us into: the truth of our belovedness and trusting that God is pleased with us. 

Perhaps all those years ago my professor was right that the desert temptations are indeed economic, religious and political but before we can battle the powers of this world, we must answer the deeper questions of if we believe we are God's beloved and if we believe that God is pleased with us. Only after we are anchored in our identity in Christ can we trust and follow in the way of our Savior in the face of the powers of our world.

Can This Dust Live?

 My 2023 reflection on Ash Wednesday:

Though I was not raised in a Catholic or Orthodox tradition, I have always been fascinated by the mysteries of God uncovered by women and men who create spiritual rhythms (even seasons like Lent and Advent) to help us step into these mysteries by giving us handles to guide us along the way. 

Most guides I have read and experienced emphasize this idea of dust and connect Ash Wednesday to Genesis 3:19 speaking the words, "For you are dust and to dust you shall return." (NASB) 

Every living organism, be that human, animal, or plant is made up of earthly matter - matter which has its origin on earth. All living organisms, likewise, return to dust, as the author of Genesis eloquently states at the end of its lifespan.

We live in a closed-ecosystem in which no matter has left. The elements that made our earth billions of years ago are the same elements at work today. Yes, they change shape and purpose, but all the pieces of this place are the same. Similarly, the elements of every human who has ever lived, from the small miscarried baby to a dying 100-year-old, is still present on earth. 

When I ponder the significance of dust and ashes on Ash Wednesday, I can't help consider the magnitude and importance of our closed-system and wonder how this concept connects with the story of Jesus. 

During most Ash Wednesday services, participants are invited to receive the imposition of ashes - a time when ashes are wiped on a person's forehead or hand in the form of a cross accompanied by the words from Genesis, "For you are dust and to dust you shall return." In a very tangible way, this sign of the cross on our foreheads is an acknowledgement of our humanity and finitude. We all will again be dust. 

Five years ago I was given the gift to bestow the ashes for the first time. As a recipient, what we hear is the reminder that we will again return to dust - not necessarily words of comfort. But as the giver of the ashes, what I see is the cross. 

The Good News of Ash Wednesday is not in the ashes, but is in the sign of the cross.

These 'words of comfort' we so readily speak over people on Ash Wednesday are dooms-dayish and might possibly leave the participant hopeless and discouraged if separated from the work of Jesus. Our Ash Wednesday observances must be experienced through the cross.

Oftentimes, creative pastors (like myself) enjoy guiding people into these dark spaces of reflection to best feel and identify with our frailty and brokenness. Especially in contexts where the dark, hard, and ugly things of life are swept under the carpet, intentionally stepping into these spaces is good.

But what about people who live surrounded by darkness?

What about people who already feel hopeless?

What about people who are discouraged and don't have much hope for tomorrow?

How do our Ash Wednesday Services help these people? 

Our creativity to step into these dark places can be crippling to people already in the dark. I know we creative-types often enjoy the dark and the strong emotions those places bring, but we also need to be aware of the people we bring into these places and be sure to guide them back out - not leave them in darkness for 40-days. 

40-days is the time Jesus spent in the wilderness fasting and praying.

40-days is the time between Ash Wednesday and Easter (not including Sabbath/Sundays). 

But 40-days is a long time in the dark. 

As I reflected on the tension I was feeling between Ash Wednesday being a melancholy tradition and our hope found in Jesus Christ, the Spirit brought my attention to Ezekiel 37. In this text, the Spirit of God brings the prophet Ezekiel out into the desert and shows him a valley of dry bones. The Spirit asks Ezekiel the question, "Son of man, can these bones live?"

Being smarter than us 21st-Century theologians, the wise Ezekiel answers, "Sovereign Lord, you alone know." 

Within the next verses that transpire, the Spirit of God lifts these bones and ashes up from the ground. The Spirit attaches sinews, tendons, and muscle; covers the bodies with flesh and skin before finally breathing life into this giant army. 

Jesus also died. Jesus let go of His Spirit on the cross and succumbed to the curse of death that all of us will one day confront. Jesus' body was laid in a tomb to endure the slow decomposing into dust - but something tremendously different and wonderful occurred.

Just like the army of bones Ezekiel saw in the Old Testament, Jesus also experienced the breath of God breathing life back into his bones.

The Spirit of God used Jesus' material matter of this earth and recycled him into a New Creation. One that looked like a gardener with fresh dirt under his fingernails; recognizably Jesus one minute and unidentifiable the next. The tomb was empty because resurrection uses up our earthly matter to transform us into a New Creation in Jesus Christ.

As I reflect on identifying with my humanity and the ashes to which I will one day return, I also must connect the hope I have in the resurrection and New Creation found with the salvific work of Jesus as part of my narrative. Celebrating Ash Wednesday, separated from the cross, is hopeless. Honoring Ash Wednesday as a way to lean into our humanity with the comfort of the Cross tempers our fear of tomorrow and gives us a grounding hope that returning to ash will not be the end of our story just as it was not the ending story of Jesus. 

As you may have received ashes yesterday, please remember the hope of the resurrection we have in Christ Jesus. Let's remember to enter the barrenness and darkness of the desert with Jesus as our guide.

From dust we shall indeed return - but that is not the end of our story anchored in Jesus.

 

The Power Behind the Hook

Have you ever watched a fish wriggle and flip when it's pulled out of water? 

Swimming along, the fish eats something that looks and smells like food.

The fish continues swimming only to be yanked backward and discover it is caught; the delicious morsel was not food, but bait. 

The tug of the fishermen fastens the ingested metal hook deep into its body cavity. The fish cannot be freed on its own.

The fish fights against the pulling of the fisherman as it attempts to swim away. 

But the more it fights, the more imbedded the hook penetrates and anchors itself.

The more it wriggles and flips, the more of a prisoner it becomes.

Is the fish acting aggressively? Yes.

Might the fish hurt the fisherman in their anxious attempt to breathe? Yes.

Is the fish suffocating? Yes.

Notice who is calm in this story? 

The fisherman. The person with the hook - the person with power.

Who looks out-of-control in this story? The fish. The one with the hook in it's mouth.

Perhaps we need discernment to not discount the fish trying to breathe, but to also notice the person in the calm of the boat holding the power of the hook.

 

I Thought Wrong

I thought we were creating a culture of TOV.

I thought we were working toward a culture of goodness.

I thought we were putting the individual before the organization.

I thought we were prioritizing Christlike service over hierarchy.

I thought I had been adopted into a family.

I thought my voice mattered.

I thought I was more than what I did.

I thought we were moving toward Jesus.

I thought we were being truthful.

I thought this was a place of healing.

I thought I was working with friends.

I thought my education, experience, and gifts were blessings.

I thought wrong.