Homily: First Sunday of Lent

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Readings: Gen 2:7-9, 3:1-7; Ps 51; Rom 5:12-19; Mt 4:1-11

Years ago I read a fascinating book about the First Battle of Bull Run, or Manassas, as our Southern neighbors call it. This first major battle of the Civil War took place in Northern Virginia not far from our nation’s capital. Of course at that time, very early in the war, neither army was experienced or battle hardened, and that inexperience was evident throughout the battle.

But Union sympathizers in Washington were so convinced their Army would prevail that they crossed the Potomac by the hundreds – men, women, congressmen, governors – all excited about witnessing this first victory by the North. Of course, it didn’t turn out quite as expected, and with the arrival of Rebel reinforcements, the tide of the battle turned and became a rout. And in the midst of all the confusion the spectators found themselves surrounded by retreating Union soldiers and being shot at by the pursuing Confederates. Although most made it back safely to Washington, some of these tourists were killed, some were wounded, and others, including a US Congressman from New York, were taken prisoner.

What a surprise it must have been for these civilians, these would-be spectators, who suddenly found themselves on the battlefield, no different from the soldiers. I suppose it was an easy mistake to make. After all, they were civilians, not soldiers. They weren’t involved. Why would anyone want to shoot at them? They actually thought war was a spectator sport.

And, you know, you and I can make the same mistake when we listen to today’s Gospel passage from Matthew. It’s easy to watch Jesus from the supposed safety of our modern-day sidelines as He battles evil in the desert 2,000 years ago.

But it really doesn’t affect us, does it? We’re just spectators, looking back in time at something that’s really not all that relevant today. Yes, let’s you and I just watch and let Jesus handle that battle. After all, He did so well, and He sent that old, nasty Satan packing.

Now, anyone who thinks that way about this passage is making a very big mistake…because just like those spectators at Bull Run, you and I have been caught up in the battle, whether we like it or not. And most of us don’t even know it…just like our first parents in today’s reading from Genesis. Confronted in the Garden by evil personified they crumbled, defenseless, overcome by his temptations. From pride came disobedience and rebellion, and a fall so great we still suffer its effects.

And yet despite this original sinfulness and all that followed, God’s plan includes the promise of salvation, a promise He renews and expands throughout salvation history in anticipation of the Incarnation of the very Word of God among us. Adam and Eve were confronted in the garden, in an earthly paradise created just for them by God; but Jesus, on the other hand, is confronted in the burnt wasteland of the desert.

You see, it matters little where we are, for Satan plies his trade everywhere. And he never stops waging his war against God. Of course, he’s destined to lose that war, but in the meantime he strikes at the weakest link…and that’s us. So, you see, Sister Mary Andrew back in seventh grade was absolutely right: you are a soldier of Christ. And so if we’re going to be wrapped up in this battle, let’s see what Jesus can teach us.

First of all, for Jesus, His time in the desert was both a divine and a human act. As Son of God He allowed the Holy Spirit to lead Him into a time of prayerful communion with the Father – it was a holy time, a Holy Trinity time.

But it was also a time for Jesus the man, a time of formation, a time to prepare Himself for His ministry, and ultimately for His passion and death. In many respects it was the defining turning point in His life, a sharp dividing line between His hidden private life and His public ministry.

But why the desert? What’s so special about the desert? Have you ever been in the desert? Now, I don’t mean driving across Death Valley in an air-conditioned SUV or motor home – I mean in the desert, on the ground, up close and personal.

I was, only once. It was a desert survival course, compliments of the US Navy. And I didn’t like it at all. It was oppressively hot in the daytime and freezing cold at night. There was little to eat or drink, so I was always hungry and thirsty, and we kept encountering these very disagreeable and dangerous creatures that our instructors insist we kill and eat. No, it was by no means a pleasant experience.

You see, the desert is a place of abject poverty, a place where only a saint or a demon (or a well-trained naval officer) can survive. It was a place that caused me to focus on my priorities, to sort them out, to realize how small a step it is from civilization to barbarity, from order to disorder, from life to death.

A Hassidic rabbi, Moshe Loeb, once said, “How easy it is for a poor man to trust in God! In what else is he to trust? And how difficult it is for a rich man to trust in God! All his possessions are crying out to him: ‘Trust in me!’” It’s in the poverty of the desert where one can learn to trust in God.

Did Jesus have to go into the desert? Did He have to perform such a radical sacrificial act? Did He have to subject Himself to the direct and personal temptations of Satan? No, of course not! His Divinity guaranteed the outcome. Then why did He go?

He went for us! Jesus always offers Himself to us as a model. Jesus Christ, true God and true man, made Himself like us in everything but sin, and voluntarily submitted Himself to temptation.

God has given us a Redeemer whose love for us is boundless. No matter what sufferings, pains or temptations we experience, we have our God leading us, telling us to have confidence in His mercy, since He too has experienced it all.

This Gospel passage isn’t there to entertain us. We’re not just spectators when it comes to the Gospel. Jesus wants us to realize that just as He had to battle with evil, so too must we – that we, too, are warriors, not tourists.

In giving us these 40 days of Lent, the Church calls us to follow Jesus’ example, it calls us to follow the Holy Spirit, just as Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert. The Church calls us to confront Satan in our own very personal deserts, those inhospitable places that expose the barrenness of our lives, those deserts we’d rather avoid than confront.

Has your relationship with God become a desert? Has your prayer life become arid, something you struggle through mechanically only here at Mass once a week? Or maybe you’re like the person who claims friendship only when he needs another’s help? Is your prayer reserved for times of need?

St. Paul instructs us to "pray constantly." What does this mean? Only that God wants you to place everything, all your plans, your burdens, your worries, your pains, your joys, everything at His feet. He will pick them up and bear them for you. Those deserts of our lives may be places where evil dwells, impoverished places, but they’re also places where we can come to know God intimately and taste His goodness.

Learn to forgive as the Father forgives, and love as the Father loves. Come together as a family in daily prayer and watch as God unfolds a miracle in your lives.

Do you ignore the hungers of those around you, concentrating instead on your own desires? People hunger for more than bread. They hunger for a kind word, for someone who will listen, for a reassuring touch. And most of all they hunger for God’s love in their lives. Will you be the one who brings it to them?

Do you suffer in the desert of habitual sin? Put it behind you. Taste the forgiveness and mercy of God this Lent in the sacrament of reconciliation. The temptations to which Jesus refused to submit all ultimately merge into one: the temptation to pride. To trust in one’s own power. To trust in the power of evil. To trust in the power of the world. They all amount to the same thing. This is the great temptation down through the ages: to imagine that we can achieve through our own efforts what only God can give.

Remember how they taunted Jesus on the cross: “He trusted in God; let God deliver him if he loves him.” No angels came to Jesus on the cross, but God’s plan was not suspended. Jesus seemed abandoned on this side of the tomb, but His trust in God never wavered.

Nothing separates Jesus from the Father, not even the desert. Jesus sets His heart on the Father, believes in Him, trusts in Him. And the Father vindicates the Son when and where He chooses. But He does vindicate Him. And it is through His resurrection that Jesus assures us that victory is ours if only we desire it and persevere in faith and trust. That’s why the Church calls Lent "a joyous season."

Yes, Jesus calls us to repentance, but He doesn't stop there. "Repent and believe in the Gospel," the Good News. And, brothers and sisters, the Good News is life, the life God wants to share with us. Believe in life! Christ's life and your life, life here and eternal, life now and forever.

And one thing we know for sure: life is definitely not a spectator sport.