Since You Are the Son of God

In the interest of full disclosure, I am beginning this sermon with a disclaimer: today’s Gospel is not about us. Here we are at the beginning of Lent. While Jesus has ended his fast and his struggle with the powers of evil, we have just begun our forty-day struggle. We have just begun the examination of our lives to which we are called during Lent. Because we are at the beginning of this period of introspection and honesty with self, we might be tempted to read this text as a lesson in how to face our own temptations. “Facing our demons,” as one commentator put it. We are certainly tempted, all the time, and we pray, all the time, for God to keep us as far from temptation as possible. But this text is not primarily about us and our struggles.

This text is about Jesus. This text is specifically about what kind of messiah Jesus is. This is a central question for Matthew and the community for which he was writing. It is a question that runs throughout the entire Gospel of Matthew’s and to which Matthew’s account gives several different answer. Who is this Jesus? How do we understand what he taught, how he lived, how he died, and what happened after his death? Who is he, and what does that mean for our community and ourselves?

Our lections skip around some in the Gospel of Matthew . Last week our lection was from chapter 17, and on Ash Wednesday we heard from chapter 6. However it is important to remember that the story of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness immediately follows the story of Jesus’ baptism. All three synoptic Gospels record this event, and all three place it immediately after Jesus’ baptism. You remember that in the stories of Jesus’ birth we learned that he was to be the savior of his people, and that, in him, something new and wonderful was coming into the world. In Jesus’ baptism, we heard God declare explicitly that Jesus was God’s beloved son. Although each of the evangelists interprets that declaration slightly differently, all of them, and most especially Matthew, want to tell us what that declaration actually means. Matthew’s question is what scholars call the “Christological” question, i.e., what kind of messiah is Jesus? Before providing any description of Jesus’ ministry, before showing us anything of Jesus’ works or his teachings, before letting us see the heart of the Gospel, Matthew makes sure that we understand who Jesus really is. And in the first century, as for us, that was not an idle question. Remember that Israel was under the heel of the Roman boot, and that the fledgling Christian community was at odds with both the political and religious leadership. There were all kinds of people looking for a messiah, and all kinds of expectations as to what the messiah would do, and so Matthew was at pains here to make sure that we understand clearly who Jesus is, what kind of messiah he isn’t, and, indirectly, what kind he is.

Matthew begins by assuring us that everything that happened to Jesus was at God’s direction: he was “led by the Spirit.” Matthew personifies all those forces opposed to Jesus, all the systemic evil that pervades the world, as “Satan,” an old mythological figure of the ancient Near East. Matthew begins his account with Satan’s declaration, “Since you are the Son of God….” This is the first time that this title is used in Matthew’s Gospel, and it would have shocked his readers: this title was used by the emperor Augustus, who called himself the “son of God.” At the outset, therefore, Matthew clearly states that Jesus is someone whose power is equal to or greater than that of Augustus – whatever we might think from the rest of the story. More to the point, the three temptations that Jesus faces here suggest three ways of exercising power, three ways that Jesus explicitly rejects, three ways in which Jesus will not be the savior that either the forces of evil – or we – would like. First, Jesus will not be someone who sets aside the laws of nature to fulfill everyone’s material needs. No prosperity Gospel here! Following Jesus will not get you into the millionaire’s club. Rather, Jesus and we must respect the laws of nature and depend on God to fulfill our material needs. During his ministry, Jesus himself will surely feed and heal people, but he does so to demonstrate God’s care for all of us. Second, Jesus will not be a showman. He will not test God by doing something so foolish and daring that everyone must be so astonished that they will be drawn to him. He will not draw followers solely because he can do things no one else can do. He will not be a superman. And third, and most important for Matthew’s readers, Jesus will not exercise political power. He will not displace the Romans – indeed by the time of the writing of Matthew’s Gospel the hated Romans had destroyed the temple. Jesus may be a descendant of King David, but he will not establish God’s kingdom in political terms.

Ironically, all the ways of being a messiah that Jesus rejects have good in them. Certainly, we should provide for our own and others’ material needs. We need to feed the hungry and clothe the naked – Matthew is quite explicit about that. Certainly, we should want to draw people into our Christian communities by acts that clearly demonstrate God’s power and love. And certainly we should want to establish political justice. What Jew or Christian wouldn’t have wanted to get rid of the hated Romans? And isn’t a superhuman messiah who could do all these things exactly what they needed?

No, Matthews tells his readers and us. Our messiah was not Superman. Our messiah may be the Son of God, but he rejected all super powers, he “emptied himself taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness,” as Paul said in his letter to the Christian community at Philippi. Our messiah gave up any divine powers he might have had, identified with us in our powerlessness, and declared his allegiance solely to God his Father. Our messiah stated in no uncertain terms that his commitment was wholly to God, that he depended solely on God for all his needs. Identifying with us in our own human weakness, our messiah was able to forgo the “bread, circuses, and political powers” of his day, and went to the Cross as the ultimate victim of those earthly powers. Our messiah is one who stands in solidarity with us, in complete opposition to earthly powers and promises that a new and different reign has begun to take root in this world.

Is this the messiah to whom we have given our allegiance? Have we committed ourselves to being more like this messiah? In a sense that is the primary question that we face during Lent. Is the messiah that we see in Matthew’s account the one that we are following? The question is not whether we are Christians. In our baptisms we have been made members of the Body of Christ. The question is what kind of Christians are we going to be? Matthew’s Gospel is not suggesting that we give up caring for the material needs of those around us, that we give up witnessing to others of God’s love and care for us, or that we cease to strive for justice in the political realm. If – or, better – since we are followers of a messiah who gave himself wholly to God and went to the Cross depending solely on God, and if we have promised to follow, then we too must be wholeheartedly committed to God and .dependent on God.

Perhaps we might take a lesson from the folks who meet downstairs. Actually, we could learn a lot from the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous. In chapter four, “We Agnostics,” we hear these words [Big Book, pp. 44-45]. For members of AA, this power is “the God of their understanding.” Total commitment to this higher power, total dependence on this higher power is what has helped members of AA, NA, and other “anonymous” organizations free themselves from alcohol, drugs, other addictions, and, ultimately, dependence solely on their own feeble powers. Florence Nightingale was once asked how she had accomplished so much, despite many years of poor health. She answered, “I have no other explanation. As far as I am able or aware, I have kept nothing back from God.”

On Ash Wednesday I suggested that when we take on the traditional Lenten disciplines of prayer, fasting, and alms-giving, we ask ourselves why we are taking on these disciplines, what reward we expect to receive from God. Lent is also a time for deeper self-examination, and especially for focus on the messiah in whose footsteps we are following. Like him, have we forsaken material power, grand gestures, and lust after political power? Have we admitted our dependence on God? Do we rely solely on God? Are we ready to follow Jesus wherever he leads us? Are we ready to follow him all the way to the Cross?