Temptation

February 22, 2026, Saint Barnabas Lutheran Church, Howard Beach, Queens, N.Y.

The waters of baptism have scarcely dried from his skin when Jesus is led to the desert to be tempted by the devil.

If we imagine ourselves in this scene, alone in the desert, we can feel the pressure. 

Every day when we pray we repeat the plea: Do not lead us into temptation. But we are surrounded by temptation. And because we Lutherans are simultaneously saints and sinners, it’s not unheard of that we surrender to it.

For me, this is so commonplace that I don’t even sense the presence of the devil. I do take some solace that in my 80th year my debaucheries are limited to too many sweets, too much overeating, too much television, too much grumbling about the next door neighbor, and too much dawdling over things that must be done. If I had been with Jesus in the desert I might have suggested we call it a night and send out for bagels.

Sometimes, at least in opera and literature, the devil’s temptation is transactional, as when the devil promises to give you your heart’s desire in exchange for your soul. 

One of my favorite depictions of this Faustian bargain is the musical Damn Yankees, a 1950s musical comedy written by Douglas Wallop and George Abbott.

As the story goes, a flabby middle-aged man named Joe Boyd is an obsessed fan of his favorite baseball team, the so-called Washington Senators. The Senators are in a losing season with the New York Yankees and Joe dreams of being a major player on the Senators. He is visited by a dodgy figure named Mr. Applegate who promises to grant Joe’s wish with the proviso that at the end of the season his soul is forfeit.

Following the Faustian formula, flabby Joe Boyd is morphed into the lean and sinewy Joe Hardy, whose athletic genius enables the Senators to win game after game until the team is tied with the Yankees. Will Joe Hardy surrender his soul to win the closing game or will he bow out at the last minute so that the Senators will lose and his soul will be returned to soft, saggy Joe Boyd?

Sorry, no spoilers. You can see the movie version on YouTube for ten bucks.

As Jesus, exhausted and hungry, sits alone in the empty desert, the devil comes to him. Not as an amusing con man named Mr. Applegate but Mephistopheles himself.

Jesus’ empty stomach is likely growling and the devil proposes that Jesus use his powers as God’s son to turn stones into bread.

For all of us, food and nourishment are basic needs and we can’t live without them. Food is also a pleasure and it’s not uncommon – for me, at least – to eat even when we are not hungry. But hunger is a potent motivator. If we have missed lunch we keep checking our watches to see how close it is to dinnertime. If we don’t eat for a day our thoughts turn to food every few minutes. If we fast as a spiritual discipline it may become difficult to focus on God’s presence rather than on the emptiness of our stomachs. In extreme cases people may be driven to do anything for food, as in Les Miserables when Jean Valjean breaks the law by stealing bread for his family and ends up in prison for 19 years.

How easy it would have been for Jesus, who was wholly human as well as wholly God, to miraculously produce the food his body craved. But Jesus reminded the devil that he was not sent into the world to serve his own needs but the needs of vulnerable and struggling humanity. He sharply rebuffs the devil, which must have been a unique experience for Satan.

Trying again, the devil places Jesus on the pinnacle of the temple and urges him to show his godly power by casting himself down.

If Jesus had done so, is there any doubt God would have saved him? We’d only have to guess what the nature of the miracle would be, whether it would be transporting or literally angels lifting him up.

But Jesus made it clear that Messiahship was not a circus, not an entertaining reign of light and mirrors and dazzling events to call attention to himself. Jesus did not come into the world to bedazzle us with his power but to bring persons closer to God through love, healing, teaching, and empathy for all he encountered. As Paul wrote in his letter to the Churches in Philippi. 

“(Jesus), though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross.” (Phil 2:6-8)

So when the devil asked Jesus to show him something really big by jumping off the pinnacle he replied, “Again it is written, do not put the Lord your God to the Test.” (Mt 4:7)

But the devil, demonic and devious to the end, saved the greatest temptation for last. He tempted Jesus with political power.

“Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory, and he said to him, ‘All these I will give you, if you fall down and worship me.” (Mt 4:8-9)

The devil knew that enticement usually worked. It had worked, certainly, with Caligula and Tiberias and Claudius, the most recent Roman emperors

In Damn Yankees, Mr. Applegate sings nostalgically about other persons in history who surrendered to the temptation of power.

“I see Bonaparte, a mean one
If ever I've seen one
And Nero fiddling through that lovely blaze
Antoinette, dainty queen:
With her quaint guillotine
Yeah-ha-ha-ha, those were the good old days.”

The obsessive pursuit of power affects many people. It touches the forepersons of the shop who become so enamored with their status and 

authority that they bully and abuse the workers rather than look out for their welfare.

It touches politicians who run for office to help people but soon find themselves abusing the power of their office to accept bribes and grant illegal favors for their friends, while ignoring people in need.

It touches pastors who want to do good among their congregations but become so affected by the deference they are shown by adoring parishioners that they begin spewing out commandments and rules for conduct for members. Some members may not even realize they’re in a cult. So it was with Jim Jones. So it was with David Koresh. So it was with L. Ron Hubbard.

It touches all of us, sometimes at the most elemental level. My own childhood memories include children on the playground who rose naturally to positions of leadership among us. Some of them earned my respect and I was proud to call them friends when they grew up to be adult leaders. Others took advantage of their power and became bullies and refused to pick me for kick-ball teams.

Thankfully, Jesus had no interest in power. 

As he fasted in the wilderness and engaged the devil in a dangerous discourse, Jesus was being prepared for his mission to bring all persons into the kingdom of God.

It was in the desert that he understood he would be a messiah who focused on the needs of people and not on himself.

It was in the desert that he understood he must not use his power merely for shock and awe or to draw attention to himself. It was to be used for God’s purpose: to teach about God’s kingdom, to heal the sick, to raise the dead, to set an example for loving human conduct, to be an exemplar unconditional love. 

It was in the desert that he understood that his power was not to be used for his own benefit but for all humankind. His concept of power was different from most people idea. It was, ironically, the power of the weak, the power of the meek, the power of the least. It was power that required the first to be last. In God’s kingdom it is the last, the weakest, the meekest, who are first.

On this the first Sunday of Lent, shall we think of ourselves as living in a spiritual desert? 

Unlike the wilderness Jesus endured, this desert has food in the fridge, warm beds, running water, and a color television.

But we can use this fanciful desert to reflect on what God wants us to know; how to use our hearts and hands for God; tasks that God wants us to take on; things that God wants us to put down; ideas God wants us to change; persons God wants us to reach out to in love; persons God wants us to forgive.

Let us pray that this desert, this Lenten season, will be a time of prayer and a time of understanding what God needs from us, and what we need from God.

And let us never forget:

As we walk through the wilderness, Jesus walks with us.