9 March, 2026, First Sunday of Lent: Deuteronomy 26:4-10; Romans 10:8-13; Luke 4:1-13
When the devil had finished every temptation, he departed from [Jesus] for a time. With this verse, Luke admits that the temptation of Jesus was not a one-off contest.
How does temptation work? It starts with a tendency that could be harnessed for good or for evil. His response to that temptation proves of what Jesus is made.
To supply bread for the hungry, to dominate the kingdoms of the world or to force God’s hand to display a great sign, all affirm extraordinary power. Obviously, it is good to feed people; it’s not bad to confront kingdoms, though it remains very dangerous to wield unchecked power, while the attempt to manipulate God is always wrong.
Jesus will multiply bread to feed a multitude—but will not leave those people dependent on him for more; he will perform many signs, but all dependent on each individual’s trusting faith in him. As to his kingdom, a thief will ask to be remembered in it as they both die as criminals.
None of this resembles what the devil suggests. Instead, Jesus’ life reveals the God who saves through powerlessness.
Powerlessness is neither passive nor inactive and certainly isn’t a lack of responsiveness; rather, it testifies against the self-centeredness of power, prestige and greediness. Jesus never insinuates himself into the religious establishment to wield influence, nor does he play Herod, his king, against Pilate, the governor of Judea, to get his way. He remains faithful to his God-given calling. In many situations the individual who so trusts in God will have to bear, with God, the violent reactions of the powerful who feel threatened by such a choice.
Intellectually I get that and I’m all for it; but when I consider how I entreat God to fix things, even urging my solutions, I realize how much I do not get it. Powerlessness leaves me feeling vulnerable, helpless. Or is that the point?
Eighteen chapters after today’s Gospel, Jesus himself prays, Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me; still, not my will but yours be done. The devil has returned to tempt Jesus again, to have God remove his fatal vulnerability.
To be alert to that temptation, might not I too be able to follow Christ and allow God’s saving work to be revealed in my powerlessness?