Sermon

The Wildness of Lent

February 22, 2026
Matthew 4:1-11
Speaker:

Lent 1

The Lord’s Prayer has always been a bit prosaic to me, sort of formulaic, something to recite but without personal meaning. (I know this is not what you want to hear from your pastor on the first Sunday of Lent but it is a penitential season right?)

But recently The Prayer that Jesus Taught has come alive for me. When preparing to accompany someone to immigration court the other week, I remembered the translation of the Lord’s prayer from the Taize song. Instead of “lead us not into temptation” the Taize version translates this as “Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil.” Suddenly this seemed like a really good prayer when going to immigration court. It became sort of a mantra, “save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil.” (I am not the only one thinking about this. I saw a t-shirt on a pastor this week that said “Deliver us from evil, Matt 6:13.”)

In the liturgical tradition, the first Sunday of Lent gives us this story of Jesus in the wilderness. Jesus has his 40 days in the wilderness and we have our 40 days of Lent (not counting Sundays.)

Jesus’ experience of being in the wilderness for 40 days and 40 nights may feel like another formula; it follows the patterns we find in the biblical text. Noah and his crew are on the ark for 40 days and 40 nights. Moses is on Mount Sinai for 40 days and nights. The children of Israel wander in the wilderness for 40 years. Jesus is in line with his Jewish lineage – and he adds fasting. I can’t help wondering if Jesus’ fast is more like the one our Muslim friends are observing right now during Ramadan, where you fast between sunrise and sunset. You can eat and drink between sunset and sunrise.

No matter the particular type of fast, Jesus’ 40 day experience must shape his ministry and teaching. Imagine if the “prayer that Jesus taught” is part of the spirituality that was formed in him during the time in the wilderness. Maybe this prayer isn’t just a series of things to pray for but is based in actual experiences, maybe even experiences in the wilderness.

“Give us this day our daily bread.” Perhaps the tempter comes just as Jesus is feeling that gurgle in his belly. Having just heard that he is the Beloved of God, the tempter now offers a way out of that uncomfortable feeling. “Prove yourself. Turn these stones into bread.” (Peter and Dan just returned from Palestine, maybe they can tell us if there are still stones, all across that land, that are reminiscent of bread.) Here is an opportunity for Jesus to “practice” some miracles, to see just how much he is the child of God. It would be so easy to satisfy that gnawing hunger.

“Give us today our daily bread” – or as some translations say ‘give us today the bread for tomorrow.’ The second translation reminds us that when Jesus’ ancestors wandered in the wilderness they were instructed to gather the strange manna one day at a time. They were tempted to gather manna for more than one day. But only on Fridays could they gather manna for tomorrow, for the Sabbath, without it going bad.

But Jesus resists; he doesn’t grasp for the security of bread for today or tomorrow. He remembers the law from Deuteronomy (8:3). He will depend on God. Perhaps later, he remembers his experience in the wilderness and incorporates that into the prayer he teaches the disciples. “Give us today our daily bread.”

How many days is it until the tempter returns, this time to exploit Jesus’ tendency to put himself in risky situations. “Just throw yourself off this high place, the tip top of the temple. God will send angels to take care of you, to protect you, it says so in the holy scriptures.” This may seem like a ridiculous temptation. Who’s going to take the risk to jump off the temple?

Taking risks is part of being human, though perhaps some of us are more human than others. I think about the many people these days who are looking for concrete ways to protect their neighbors from masked agents with guns. It is not just in Minnesota but in communities here, and around the country. People are choosing to step into new and uncomfortable territory on behalf of others.

To some people, it may look like these risk-takers are throwing themselves off the temple. But most of the time, these are people who have gone through training, who are working closely with others, who are following best practices and working within strict perimeters. Yes, it is risky but they don’t do this for the thrill of it. They are not expecting angels to come and save them (as the tempter quotes from Psalm 91.) They are not putting God to the test. These neighbors are taking calculated risks to keep other neighbors safe. Sadly, as we saw in the case of Renee Good and Alex Pretti, sometimes the risk calculations don’t add up.

I wonder though,
is choosing perceived safety also a risk?
Is choosing safety at all costs a temptation?
Is that also putting God to the test?

Just as Jesus refuses to grasp at the perceived security of daily bread, Jesus refuses the temptation to take unnecessary risks all on his own. He quotes scripture back to the tempter and refuses to put God to the test.

More days go by and Jesus is getting weary. The tempter tries one more time. The appeal now is to Jesus’ ego. “Look at this, it could all be yours. You could have all the power, across all these nations. All you need to do is bow down to me, worship me.” Sell his soul to the devil?

This temptation is real, to have power over others. This temptation is very real in this city of power and greed, to let for power across various boardrooms or countries. “Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.”

Aren’t these temptations that Jesus faces supposed to be things that all humans (or most humans) experience? What about those of us who don’t have opportunities to grasp at that kind of power. Is this even a real temptation? The power that we have access to might be different in degrees — but the ego-urge to elevate ourselves, to grasp for power, is still there.

Just this week, I found myself battling this ego temptation. “You know, it is black history month. And the death of Jesse Jackson is all over the news. Did I ever tell you how I was arrested – for civil disobedience, with Jesse Jackson, at the US Capitol rotunda, in the summer of 2018?” There were also 47 other people arrested but none quite as notable as Jesse Jackson (or myself.)

What is it about the ego that wants other people to know when we have come close to those who are famous, to those who have power?

Did Jesus struggle with his ego? If he was human, how could he not? Did the divine part of him lord it over the human part? He did hear that voice telling him he was the Child of God. He could live into that power in a big way. Is that part of what this temptation is all about, who has the power?

Power in itself is not bad. But as we know, power over others can be abused in all kinds of horrible ways. And Jesus will not deliberately give the tempter power over him. Unlike Adam and Eve, Jesus does not take the bait to play God. Jesus sees the trap. Jesus will not voluntarily put himself under the power of the tempter. Jesus remembers what he knows from The Law and tradition: Worship God alone. Jesus will not bow down to the tempter.

And then, when Jesus says no to the tempter a third time, then the angels do come, the angels show up to minister to Jesus.

Jesus goes into the wilderness, into the wildness, and encounters temptations, a tempter, an ego. Rooted in his own tradition, Jesus knows the stories and songs to stand on when he needs strength to resist grasping for security and safety and power, when he needs to resist selling himself to evil.

Historically, Mennonites have tended not to practice Lent or Lenten disciplines. But perhaps we need to expand our imaginations. I wonder if given the wilderness of our current political situation, our personal situations, we might want to rethink that. Because the point is not to see if you can endure for the 40 days. The point is that forty days is long enough that you can actually develop new habits, new practices that nurture the body and soul.

As we journey through these 40 days, imagine what world you want to live in, what you hope for in your own household, in your own soul. This season is a chance to choose a practice, one small step, toward making that happen. Rooting ourselves in a chosen practice can keep us grounded and connected with our true selves, grounded and connected with God, in the midst of the wilderness, in the midst of the wildness. Imagine that.