Lent is the time when as Christians we look to encounter God – more often and in new ways. So isn’t it curious that these familiar texts from Genesis and Matthew guide us to encounters not with God but with temptation, even the tempter in the flesh.

Adam and Eve and their fig leaves are so common that even people who are not Jewish or Christian know the story. The story of Jesus tempted in the wilderness is less familiar. Yet what the tempter waves enticingly under Jesus’ nose – comfort, safety and power – these know no religious boundaries. All humans are well acquainted with these.

Perhaps this is why we give up things for Lent: because we seek solidarity with Jesus in the long forty days. It is a reflection of our longing to feel more connected with the Holy.

It surprises me then, how trendy it seems to give up something for Lent. Even people who say they are not religious post on FaceBook that they are giving up this or that for Lent. How is it that those who claim to be against religion are willing to make this sacrifice? Do we all long for more connection to God? Or is this Christian custom just another excuse to try and lose weight, get in shape, take a break from social media, stop yelling at the kids?

Even as we make a change in routine, diet and behavior, we realize our humanness. Giving up something for Lent does not make us immune to temptation, it highlights our weakness. If only it was as easy as avoiding snakes and devils.

The problem with temptation is that it is so often something good for us, like knowledge, bread, safety, comfort, power. They are all the more alluring since we really do need these to survive in this world.

Michelle told me this week about an experience she had that seemed awfully like temptation. I invite you to share that with us.

(Michelle shares her story of temptation.)

When we peel away the layers, we see that we still yearn for the same things that the tempter placed in front of Jesus. It is not that these are bad in themselves but as humans we do work hard at our quest for safety, comfort, and power.  And many people and industries are more than happy to help us continue striving.

It starts with work so that we have money so we can buy food and shelter. Then we look for a good education so we can make more money to have a better home and fancier food. And once we are comfortable, we need various forms of insurance, alarm systems, guard dogs, self-defense training and maybe even guns or weapons to hold on to it all and keep us safe.

Then we need to make sure we have enough power to hang on to the safety and comfort, especially if we have a partner or children – or especially if we are single and have only ourselves to depend on – or especially if we are approaching retirement and will no longer have work.  In our attempt to find safety, comfort and power it is easy to cut ourselves off from what is most basic to us as humans – community.

As people who follow Jesus, we seek that community here with each other. We seek Christ in each other; we seek God not in things but in ourselves, in those we love, in the created world, in serving our neighbors. We seek Christ even in those labeled “enemy.” And we find that strangely,  we are comforted. We are safe and we have the power we need in proportion to who we are in this creation.

It is an idealistic vision. Who can really let go of everything, give it all up for Lent, walk in the wilderness for 40 days and say no to basic necessities – who but Jesus? What about those who involuntarily live in the “wilderness?” People in Ukraine or Syria, in Crimea or South Sudan? Venezuela or Colombia? Even DC or Hyattsville? What about those who live with sexualized violence? Or who are in prison? Is it enough to say that if they had a community of Christ with them they would feel safe or comfortable? That they would they feel empowered?

My friend, Isaac Villegas, recently reviewed the book – Down in the Chapel: Religious Life in an America Prison, (by Joshua Dubler) It sounds like in at least one prison in the United States, faith is a way to find safety and comfort, to find freedom even when behind bars. “Eugene, a Jewish prisoner, explains… how religion makes it possible to survive the deadening effects of incarceration: ‘What religion in here is about is that they can have this’ – he touches his body – ‘but they can’t have this’ -he points to his head.” http://www.christiancentury.org/reviews/2014-02/free-inside

What might it be like if more of us practiced our faith this way, so that our minds are as free as we believe our bodies to be? What might that look like for those of us who do not live behind bars? To let go of the outer stuff that we cling to and instead spend more time in the mind and heart? To claim the power we do have instead of what we wish we had.

Another lenten practice, a way to encounter God, that intrigues me is described by Erin Dunigan. http://www.onbeing.org/blog/the-induced-meandering-of-the-lenten-season/6169  She suggests we look to the flow of rainwater and practice “induced meandering.” When rainwater runs quickly it can erode and destroy. It is much more useful to the soil and the growing plants if it meanders across the land. Erin Dunigan says in order to figure out how to keep all the rainwater on your own little patch of earth you have to watch it and see how it runs across the land.  You have to observe and then take action to induce meandering.

One of the best ways to help water meander is to make some curves or place obstacles in the traditional path so that the water slows down and nourishes the plants and soil.

Dunigan suggests that Lent is a time for induced meandering. Life often flows over us at a fast pace; we can feel like we are losing ground even when it’s all good. So what if we observe where the rushing is? What if we pay attention to those places where we might add a curve or a rock to slow life down just a bit-even if only for a few weeks?

Today we welcome 5 children and their families from Christian Family Montessori School who are celebrating their first communion with us. (We are grateful that their catechist and the children who celebrated several weeks ago at St. James Catholic Church can also join us with their families.)

These 7 and 8 year olds have been doing some induced meandering as they prepare themselves for communion. They have learned about Jesus the Vine and we who are the branches. They have learned that in order for the vine and branches to stay healthy the sap must flow – the Spirit must flow, through the Vine to the branches.

Sometimes the sap flows freely and we know we are loved and are loving. But sometimes there is a block, not just a curve or small stone to slow life down but an actual block. The block in the branch prevents love from flowing, from God to us and from us to God and neighbor. Perhaps we might call that block temptation; we probably call it sin.

When a block occurs we need to find ways to remove it so that once again the sap can flow freely. We are most fully our healthy branch selves when the Spirit flows from God through us, producing fruit that becomes food for the world.

It is a gift to learn from children about the spiritual life, to see the Love of God taking root and growing in each of them. They have  been preparing their hearts and minds, allowing the Spirit to flow through their own bodies, minds and spirits. It is a privilege to be led by them in singing the Lord’s Prayer and to share the communion meal with them today.

In this season of lent, may we find ways to live fully aware of the comfort, safety and power that are ours as followers of Christ in community. May we find ways to induce meandering so that we encounter God and there is space for God to encounter us. May we allow the Spirit to flow through us to bring healing and hope to the world.