Sunday Eucharist 8:30 a.m. - Spoken Word 10:00 a.m. - Music & Live Stream
Sunday Eucharist 8:30 a.m. - Spoken Word 10:00 a.m. - Music & Live Stream
Christ the King Epiphany Church, Wilbraham
The Rev. Martha S. Sipe
February 22, 2026 / First Sunday in Lent
Matthew 4:1-11
Lent has often been seen as a season of suffering and sacrifice, a period of avoiding temptations and giving up things that make us happy, a serious and somber time of taking responsibility for our relationship with God and the world. We are predisposed to this understanding of Lent by the Gospel that we have heard this morning – that, in fact, we hear every year on the first Sunday in Lent – the story of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness. Every year, we are reminded that Jesus, though he was vulnerable by 40 days of fasting all alone in the wilderness, refused to go for the carrot that Satan was dangling in front of him. “C’mon, Jesus, you must be really hungry. Why don’t you use your power to turn these stones to bread? And why don’t you show off your Abba/Daddy’s power of protection and jump off this roof? While you’re at it, why don’t you just put your trust in me and I’ll give you power and influence like you can’t imagine?” But even if this were the first time we were hearing this story, we’d know how it was gonna end because we know who Jesus is: He is the Son of God. He’s going to be faithful, and wise, and positively heroic. And the message that seeps into our spiritual pores is that we ought to be more like him.
But it’s tricky, you know. We ought to be more like Jesus. There’s no doubt about it. But can we? Can we ever be completely like him? Can we even come close? If we make the moral of this story how heroic Jesus was that he faced down temptation, I believe it has the power to drive us deeper into despair about our own shortcomings and failures. Because you and I – we fall far short of heroic. We can never hope to attain his level of faithfulness.
But we can learn from him the key to resisting temptation, the key to faithful growth and life, by noting that, there in the wilderness, Jesus remembered who he was. Think about when the temptation happens in the story of Jesus’ life. If you were to read through Matthew’s gospel continuously from the beginning, as if you were reading a novel rather than the way we read scripture in worship which is a chapter here and a chapter there – if you were reading through Matthew from the beginning, you would see that what comes immediately before today’s story is Jesus’ baptism. The same thing is also true in both Mark’s and Luke’s account of Jesus’ life: his baptism immediately precedes his temptation by Satan. And if you remember what happened when Jesus was baptized: God’s voice spoke from heaven declaring Jesus his beloved Son. Then boom – right away, possibly before God’s words can even sink into Jesus’ ears, he encounters Satan, who, make no mistake about it, is aggressively targeting Jesus. He wants to trip him up. Satan knows who Jesus is, and he wants to get Jesus to trust in him before he gets any further confirmation of his identity. So maybe it’s Jesus’ awareness of who he is – God’s beloved Son – that saves him from Satan’s trickery more than it is that he possesses some superhuman heroism and wisdom and faith. And although I cannot attain superhuman powers, I, too, am a child of God, and have been ever since the day I was baptized. So there’s hope for me.
The second reason that it’s helpful to see Jesus’ success with Satan as a matter of his knowing who he was rather than innate strength is to note how Satan tries to trip him up. Like any savvy adversary, Satan attacks Jesus where he believes him to be the most vulnerable. You’d hardly think that after hearing God call you beloved, your reward would be hunger and solitude and temptation. So Satan tries to introduce doubt into Jesus’ mind. He says, “If you are the Son of God, then command these stones to become loaves of bread. And if you are the Son of God, throw yourself down.” Isn’t that exactly where we are vulnerable, too? I, personally, can just hear Satan whispering doubt in my ear around all my vulnerabilities. “If you really were a child of God, you would never lose your temper. If you really were a child of God, you would forgive more readily. If you really were a child of God, you would be doing more to feed the hungry, and welcome the stranger, and protect the vulnerable, and love every neighbor.” But see, again, it’s tricky. There’s no doubt that I should be controlling my temper and forgiving freely and doing more to help all who are in need, and the fact that I cannot can make me doubt whether or not I really am God’s beloved child. But I cannot, we cannot, do any of these things by our own fortitude or resolve. The best we can do, when faced with doubt about our belovedness, is to say what Martin Luther used to say when Satan was working him over: “Away with you, Satan! I am baptized!” Forget it, Satan. Your trickery won’t work on me. I know that I am God’s child and God loves me, even in spite of my weakness.
So here’s what I’m going to do – and what I hope you will do, too, when you’re feeling down or when you feel you’ve let yourself and God down: I’m not going to let myself get discouraged that I am not as heroic as Jesus was, nor as faithful as I should be. I’m just going to keep on trying, and ask God for help. I’m going to keep reminding myself that God loves me as promised at the font. I’m going to keep remembering who I am: God’s beloved. And with that knowledge, I cannot help but become more like Jesus – not through my efforts, but through God’s love. In Lent and in life, remember who you are. And in that remembrance, even in spite of the somewhat serious and somber nature of this season, find joy: you are beloved.