"Seriously Human" - A sermon on Matthew 4 by Martin Lohrmann
About this sermon: It can be tempting to read the temptation story of Matthew 4:1-11 as a story which suggests that Christ's followers will be just as good at resisting the devil as Christ himself. During a penitential season like Lent, the idea of wrestling with sin and the devil and then presumably winning(!) can be especially prevalent, whether that expectation of victory is raised intentionally or unintentionally. In this sermon, the goal was to show that it is not we who defeat the devil by being more than human; it is Christ who wins the victory for us by becoming fully human. As a colleague of mine said in our text study: "Jesus was serious about this human thing." Theologically speaking, the letter that kills is at work here not only in showing us our sins but also in the temptation to perfection that we can never achieve. The gospel then speaks a fresh word of life and grace to our very real situation by revealing the love Christ has for us in his way of the cross. ML
The sermon: A sermon on Matthew 4:1-11 (Lent 1- Year A) by Martin Lohrmann, preached at Christ Ascension Lutheran Church, Philadelphia, PA
In the name of Christ our Lord.
The story of Adam and Eve’s disobedience is a serious story of sin and mortality. At the same time, it is not without a little comedy. More than anything, Adam and Eve wanted their eyes to be opened and to see like God sees. Desiring wisdom, they desired the fruit. They reached out and grabbed it, so close to new wisdom and power that they could almost taste it. They took a bite, their eyes were opened, and what did they see? They looked down, they looked at each other and they saw: “Oh, we’re naked.”
This is not the heavenly wisdom that they probably expected. Neither is it the heavenly wisdom we expect to find. We have this idea that the more we study, the more we strive, the greater and wiser and more powerful we will inevitably become. But what do we discover? The more we learn about the mysteries of the planet, of living organisms, of this universe, the more we come back to ourselves and say, “Hmm. We’re pretty small and naked here.”
It’s no sin to be small and naked and needy. In fact, the word sin does not appear anywhere in this story. But the problems begin when – like Adam and Eve did – in our smallness we hide from God and do not trust that God is watching out for us. Confronted with this weakness and fear, we might wish that our ancient parents (or our more recent parents) had not disobeyed God and messed things up for us. Maybe then we could live simple lives of peace and obedience. But such a wish further misses the point of the story: We do not disobey or hide from God because Adam and Eve did. We disobey and hide from God like Adam and Eve did.
It’s no sin to be small and naked and needy. But faced with our weakness, the temptation is to escape weakness and even to hate ourselves and hate others for being weak. In the face of our smallness, the temptation is to be more than human, more than the needy mortal creatures we are. We want to be all grown up and wise and sophisticated, desiring real knowledge and power to save ourselves from the shame of weakness. But what we learn with our great knowledge only confirms the truth about our great need. And then: see what sins come for our shame of being weak: we run from God, hoard wealth, refuse to share, and look for strength and security through weapons and violence. Those things don’t happen because of Adam and Eve. They happen because of us and our fear.
So what can we do? When we turn to the story of Jesus being tempted by the devil in the wilderness, we might hear it as a story that says “at last, it is possible to overcome temptation and weakness!” We might think that if we really were strong Christians, we would overcome the devil like Jesus did. But that’s not what is going on in Matthew 4.
As in the garden of Eden, the temptation Jesus faced was to be more than human. Having been declared the Son of God at his baptism and having been filled with the Holy Spirit of God, the devil whispered to a hungry and weak Jesus: “If you are the Son of God, turn these stones into bread. If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from the heights. If you are the Son of God, then why shouldn’t all the kingdoms of the world be yours?”
But precisely because Jesus is the Son of God and precisely because he was filled with the Holy Spirit of God, he could trust that it was okay to be entirely and fully human. “Away from me!” he told the devil, who tempted him to be more than human. “Get behind me, Satan!” he said to Peter when the disciple tried to keep Jesus from the way of the cross. Jesus was serious about this human thing in a way that we can hardly begin to comprehend. We look at ourselves and we think: “look how naked and weak we are… we have to fix that.” God looks at us and says: “look how beautiful and beloved you are to me!”
In my experience, the season of Lent can be frustrating when we use it as a time to try to be more than we are. Jesus overcame temptation, therefore shouldn’t we overcome temptation? We need to be better and holier and leave this human condition of ours behind. But Jesus came to show us that holiness and goodness do not come from our striving but from our trust that God has already told us who we need to be; God already gives us what we need, one day at a time. When we stop trying to reach for heaven, we find that like Jesus the very angels of God have already come down to us to serve and care for us.
Does that sound too easy? Is trusting in God too easy a thing? Well, give it a try. Let trusting God be your Lenten discipline. See how that goes. I can tell you – more accurately confess to you – that despite all of God’s goodness to me, I fail daily to trust God like I should. This lack of trust causes me to sin against God and my neighbors, running away, lashing out, through things I have done and left undone. Seeing my weaknesses, I look at my life – pastor that I am, doctor of philosophy that I am – and it can all seem very small and naked and weak.
In my smallness, Satan whispers a little word to me. Almost every day, the voice of accuser speaks so innocently in my heart that I nearly believe. The voice says: “I wish I were perfect... If only I were a better person...” If only I were perfect, I could care for my family and friends better. If only I were perfect, I could lead my church better. If only I were perfect, I could really start to change what is wrong in this world. It's sounds so right, but I have learned that this is not the voice of God but the voice of the accuser working against what is good for me and in me.
Instead, the voice of God calls out, “Repent. Turn around. Turn back to me and trust me. In doing so, you will be turning back to yourself.” Declared a child of God in baptism, I do not have to be more than I am. Through faith, we get to be who God made us to be. Faced with the weakness of the human condition, Jesus did not come to call us beyond ourselves; instead, he came to give us back to ourselves. This is the free gift of a restored identity and humanity that could only have come from the Lord himself. Amen
The sermon: A sermon on Matthew 4:1-11 (Lent 1- Year A) by Martin Lohrmann, preached at Christ Ascension Lutheran Church, Philadelphia, PA
In the name of Christ our Lord.
The story of Adam and Eve’s disobedience is a serious story of sin and mortality. At the same time, it is not without a little comedy. More than anything, Adam and Eve wanted their eyes to be opened and to see like God sees. Desiring wisdom, they desired the fruit. They reached out and grabbed it, so close to new wisdom and power that they could almost taste it. They took a bite, their eyes were opened, and what did they see? They looked down, they looked at each other and they saw: “Oh, we’re naked.”
This is not the heavenly wisdom that they probably expected. Neither is it the heavenly wisdom we expect to find. We have this idea that the more we study, the more we strive, the greater and wiser and more powerful we will inevitably become. But what do we discover? The more we learn about the mysteries of the planet, of living organisms, of this universe, the more we come back to ourselves and say, “Hmm. We’re pretty small and naked here.”
It’s no sin to be small and naked and needy. In fact, the word sin does not appear anywhere in this story. But the problems begin when – like Adam and Eve did – in our smallness we hide from God and do not trust that God is watching out for us. Confronted with this weakness and fear, we might wish that our ancient parents (or our more recent parents) had not disobeyed God and messed things up for us. Maybe then we could live simple lives of peace and obedience. But such a wish further misses the point of the story: We do not disobey or hide from God because Adam and Eve did. We disobey and hide from God like Adam and Eve did.
It’s no sin to be small and naked and needy. But faced with our weakness, the temptation is to escape weakness and even to hate ourselves and hate others for being weak. In the face of our smallness, the temptation is to be more than human, more than the needy mortal creatures we are. We want to be all grown up and wise and sophisticated, desiring real knowledge and power to save ourselves from the shame of weakness. But what we learn with our great knowledge only confirms the truth about our great need. And then: see what sins come for our shame of being weak: we run from God, hoard wealth, refuse to share, and look for strength and security through weapons and violence. Those things don’t happen because of Adam and Eve. They happen because of us and our fear.
So what can we do? When we turn to the story of Jesus being tempted by the devil in the wilderness, we might hear it as a story that says “at last, it is possible to overcome temptation and weakness!” We might think that if we really were strong Christians, we would overcome the devil like Jesus did. But that’s not what is going on in Matthew 4.
As in the garden of Eden, the temptation Jesus faced was to be more than human. Having been declared the Son of God at his baptism and having been filled with the Holy Spirit of God, the devil whispered to a hungry and weak Jesus: “If you are the Son of God, turn these stones into bread. If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from the heights. If you are the Son of God, then why shouldn’t all the kingdoms of the world be yours?”
But precisely because Jesus is the Son of God and precisely because he was filled with the Holy Spirit of God, he could trust that it was okay to be entirely and fully human. “Away from me!” he told the devil, who tempted him to be more than human. “Get behind me, Satan!” he said to Peter when the disciple tried to keep Jesus from the way of the cross. Jesus was serious about this human thing in a way that we can hardly begin to comprehend. We look at ourselves and we think: “look how naked and weak we are… we have to fix that.” God looks at us and says: “look how beautiful and beloved you are to me!”
In my experience, the season of Lent can be frustrating when we use it as a time to try to be more than we are. Jesus overcame temptation, therefore shouldn’t we overcome temptation? We need to be better and holier and leave this human condition of ours behind. But Jesus came to show us that holiness and goodness do not come from our striving but from our trust that God has already told us who we need to be; God already gives us what we need, one day at a time. When we stop trying to reach for heaven, we find that like Jesus the very angels of God have already come down to us to serve and care for us.
Does that sound too easy? Is trusting in God too easy a thing? Well, give it a try. Let trusting God be your Lenten discipline. See how that goes. I can tell you – more accurately confess to you – that despite all of God’s goodness to me, I fail daily to trust God like I should. This lack of trust causes me to sin against God and my neighbors, running away, lashing out, through things I have done and left undone. Seeing my weaknesses, I look at my life – pastor that I am, doctor of philosophy that I am – and it can all seem very small and naked and weak.
In my smallness, Satan whispers a little word to me. Almost every day, the voice of accuser speaks so innocently in my heart that I nearly believe. The voice says: “I wish I were perfect... If only I were a better person...” If only I were perfect, I could care for my family and friends better. If only I were perfect, I could lead my church better. If only I were perfect, I could really start to change what is wrong in this world. It's sounds so right, but I have learned that this is not the voice of God but the voice of the accuser working against what is good for me and in me.
Instead, the voice of God calls out, “Repent. Turn around. Turn back to me and trust me. In doing so, you will be turning back to yourself.” Declared a child of God in baptism, I do not have to be more than I am. Through faith, we get to be who God made us to be. Faced with the weakness of the human condition, Jesus did not come to call us beyond ourselves; instead, he came to give us back to ourselves. This is the free gift of a restored identity and humanity that could only have come from the Lord himself. Amen
