You are my hiding-place; you preserve me from trouble; *you surround me with shouts of deliverance.
When our sons were very little, before they learned to swim, we would take them to the pool to cool off on hot summer days in Texas. One of their favorite things to do was to jump from the side of the pool into our arms. The first few times, they would stand there looking at me and then looking at the water, then looking at me and then looking at the water. I would say, “I’ll catch you. I am right here. I’ll catch you.”
It would take many minutes, edging closer and closer to the pool’s edge, while they decided if they could trust me—would I really catch them and hold them so that they didn’t sink into the water. I, too, was on guard because I knew that I had one chance. If I caught them like I promised, they would continue to jump into the pool. But if I missed them or let them go down too far into the water, the trust was broken and then we both were doomed to sitting unhappily outside the pool in the heat.
Our reading this morning from Genesis is the second story of creation found in our Bible. It the story of God who walks in the garden who having created a human from the dust of the earth and breathed life into him/her places him in the garden of Eden to till and keep it. The human adam is told that he can have anything he wants in this place of “delight” and “luxury”—which is what Eden means. But there is one tree from which he must not eat—the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. He is told that if he does so he will die.
God immediately sets out to create an even better existence for the human. God knows that it is not right for humans to be alone and so he begins to create other creatures—every animal of the field and every bird of the air. But God notices that the human does not yet have a “helper” a partner” someone who is equal and relational. So God creates from the “side” of the human another who will walk with him, offer him companionship and support, and together share all that God has given them. God knows God has gotten it right when for the first time in Scripture, the human speaks in the elevated language of poetic verse as a sign of ecstasy and joy: “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh!” (2:23a)
It would seem that they have everything they need to be free and perfectly satisfied. God has created a creation that is good. But we soon discover that even in paradise—even in the garden of peace, tranquility, and abundance, chaos lurks at its borders. Enter the snake.
We hear that the snake or serpent was more “crafty” or “clever” ‘arum than any of the other wild creatures God had made. (Gen. 3:1-7) It seems to surprise no one when the snake begins to speak to the woman. In the Hebrew the “cleverness” ‘arum of the serpent interacts literally and figuratively with the “nakedness” ‘arumim or “vulnerability” of the humans. And so the snake introduces doubt or just the whiff of mistrust into the relationship between God and the humans. The snake asks about eating from the trees in the garden. And when the woman responds that they are free to eat of any tree in the garden except the tree of the knowledge of good and evil because if they eat from that tree—or touch it (an additional command added by the woman) they will die. The snake immediately corrects her, contradicts God’s command to her, and says, “You will not die. God just wants to hold back some knowledge from you.” Oops—you did not completely keep Patrick’s face out of the water.
So the woman, seeing that the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil “was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, took of its fruit and ate; and she also gave some to her companion, who was with her, and he ate. (3:6) In reaching out to take the forbidden fruit, the woman represents the inner conflict that can work against our better selves and our best interests. We have an inherent tendency to rebel, to challenge, to act on impulse—particularly when there is some separation, when we feel vulnerable—that momentary question of whether God or ourselves know what is best for us.
In our gospel reading from Matthew, Jesus has been baptized by John in the Jordan River. He has heard God’s blessing on him confirming that he is God’s beloved and with him God is well pleased. God’s Spirit in the form of a dove alights on him.
But then in the next verse we hear that he is led into the wilderness to be tested by the form of evil. Jesus fasts and so his body is weakened and it is then that this being—the tempter or tester—comes to him.
Matthew doesn’t seem to be troubled by the idea that Jesus needed to be tested to prove himself. Even the term Jesus uses—“Satan” or the “Prince of Demons” (12:24)—can be translated simply as “adversary.” Jesus is led into the wilderness to see better, to have all that might shade or distract removed so that he could more closely examine whose voice was saying, “Come closer.” Jesus was led to the wilderness to discern the one true voice that he could trust—the one true voice that would keep him true to his mission.
Jesus, despite being tested or tempted with unlimited abundance (even stones can be made into bread), unlimited control (no matter what you do your protection is guaranteed), and unlimited power (all the kingdoms of the world will be yours), knew who to count on to keep him true. Jesus trusted and kept his eye on God, knowing that it was there he would find his true abundance, control, and power. Even God’s son is not exempt from temptation. The difference was he knew where his Source lay.
Trust is in short supply in our time. Institutions that we grew up trusting, have been found to not be reliable sources of trust. Heroes that captured our imagination and even served as role models at one time, are too often found to have serious moral deficiencies made even more glaring by the bright light of fame.
Our country is replete with examples of distrust that has led to fear and anger and discrimination and the unveiling of every horrible sin against the dignity of others available on full display. Truth is presented as if it is “contextual” rather than something we can hold together as a strong foundation. And this deep level of mistrust has led to an environment of instability.
It is easy in this setting to just want to identify our tribe, flee behind our fig leaves, and plant our flag. It is hard to know what and who to trust. Can we trust the information we are receiving? And if not how can we trust the people delivering the information? When truth becomes relative, when compassion is for sale, when only the interests of those holding the power and riches is exhorted how do we resist the impulse to grasp the beautiful fruit for ourselves and run for the bushes?
And knowing that there are millions of people in our country who literally fear for their lives and the lives of their children—what can we do to become one source of trust for them? How do we stand with and offer support to those most vulnerable in this time of great testing? Where do any of us turn for solace and peace?
Lent could not have come at a better time. What better season for us to come before God and look deeply into our own hearts to see when in our own vulnerability and desire for control we have thrown stones instead of sharing bread, have opted for our own self-protection rather than protecting the vulnerable, and seized power rather than sharing and supporting the power of others. It is a season of repentance, of being honest with ourselves and our all our bad attempts to cover up our nakedness.
Lent is also a time to remember that though vulnerable and inclined to stick a fork in the light socket, we each are made in the image of God and are good. That we are given over and over the opportunity to align ourselves with God’s will that promises us delight and abundance. It is a time to turn toward the One whose promises never fail and whose trust we can give our heart and our life to. Could we this Lent recall the terms and the covenant that Jesus repeats to the tempter: Worship only God, fear only God, trust the will and the ability of God to provide?
In this season of Lent, I invite you to the observance of a holy time of self-examination, repentance, and turning toward the only Source of all love and goodness—the only Source that truly gives us life. We will begin today a Lenten conversation around how we can build our community of love—a community that cares for and attends to each other here in this church and a community and who cares for and attends to the people beyond these walls. I hope you will join us.
Just because we know our scripture does not make us followers of Christ’s way (notice the tempter). Just because we worship regularly together does not make us followers of Christ’s way. Only by following Christ–wherever he leads, and whoever we encounter along this way–trusting in the never-failing mercy and justice of God, will we find the courage and the hope to move forward together. God will put us into that new section of creation to till and keep and there keeping our eye on the One who will always catch us, we can enjoy the promise, alongside all creation, of the good fruit from the garden.