Be with Us, God
/To me, all the readings for this First Sunday of Lent are an affirmation of God’s presence with us. We tend to talk about Emmanuel, God with us, during Advent, but here we are in Lent. And God is still with us, not in the form of a baby, but as a grown up wrestling with his identity and seeking his purpose. How easy is it for you to know and trust God’s presence with you – in this season and in every season?
The first reading from Deuteronomy is a little walk back through salvation history for God’s chosen people. Whenever they were in trouble, God was there to help them, to care for them, to let them know that they were not alone. They faced oppression, but God delivered them to a “land flowing with milk and honey.” And Moses invites the people to bow before God in acknowledgement and praise.
In the Second Reading from the Letter to the Romans, we hear again that God is near. There is no distinction between Jew and Greek, but the same God of all. Everyone who calls upon God will be saved. God is with all of us, no matter our background, and all we have to do is call to God. That’s reassuring.
And then we have the Gospel story of Jesus’s temptation in the desert. We’re told that “filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus returned from the Jordan and was led by the spirit into the desert for forty days to be tempted by the devil.” When I look at it in the context of the other readings, what the temptation story says to me is that God is there in this trying moment for Jesus, even though it might not seem like it. Part of the temptation Jesus struggles with is to go it alone. Should he use his own power to benefit himself? Should he worship the devil, in other words, use his power to elevate himself above others? Should he test his power, just to see what he can do?
Throughout this testing, he doesn’t give in to any of these temptations. Good for him. Personally, if I had had that baptismal experience with the Spirit descending like a dove and the voice, I’d be tempted to see what I could do too. But he doesn’t test or misuse his power. The desert is a time of soul-searching. It’s a time of prayer and discernment and figuring out who he is and who God is calling him to be. In the solitude of the wilderness, Jesus is figuring out his purpose and his identity.
While he’s in this space of testing and trial, soul searching and prayer, I wonder what goes through his head. Does he reflect on his upbringing, his experiences of God? Does he think about his faith, the salvation history of God’s chosen people, to which he belongs? Does he question that history or even doubt it? I wonder if he even doubts that profound experience of his own baptism. Was it real? Was it imagined? What’s happening to him? As he moved through that difficult desert time, I wonder if he ever doubted that God was with him. Did he experience God’s presence, or did it just feel like him alone with the wind and sun and sand – and his temptations?
I don’t know how this experience felt for Jesus, but I do know what my own temptations feel like. I know I can be tempted to indulge in sweets, to procrastinate on something I need to do, to buy something I don’t need. I can be tempted to answer someone in a snippy way or to lose my patience. These everyday kinds of temptations are annoying, but they don’t really get to me at a soul level. I don’t know about you, but the temptations that are the hardest for me are more existential. My worst temptation is to doubt that God is with me, especially when things get hard. I can lose sight of hope and give in to despair. The temptation that hurts the worst is when I believe I’m alone and unloved. And once I’m in the midst of that kind of temptation, it’s hard to move out of it. I wonder if Jesus ever felt that way too. As the devil tried every trick in the book, was Jesus moved to doubt or despair or loneliness? I wonder.
We can’t tell by this reading what he’s thinking and feeling, but we do know how he responds. With every temptation, he roots himself in his faith, in Scripture, in his experience of God. He answers rationally. Maybe there’s something about responding that way that helps him to feel a sense of surety too. Each time he responds, he affirms God, and maybe that evokes a felt sense of God’s presence with him too. Even though Jesus is tired and hungry (not the best time to make decisions or respond in rational ways), he stays grounded in what he knows about God. Temptations, as well as emotions, come and go. They are fleeting and ever-changing. What doesn’t change is God’s presence and our experience of God’s presence. Jesus seems like he’s able to trust his experience of God.
So, what can we learn in all this? There are a few things that I bring from this for my own spiritual life. First, like Moses does in the First Reading, it can be helpful to recall past experiences of God’s presence, either ones felt in the moment or ones we can see in the cool, clear light of hindsight. When I remember how God has been with me before, it helps me to trust that God will be with me again. It also affirms my resilience in the face of challenge. It reminds me that I’ve grown, and that God has been with me in that growing. I can bring this to my individual prayer, and we can also do this together, recalling the ways that God has guided our families, our churches, our communities. As God’s chosen people too, we can recall God’s presence with us communally.
Second, the Spirit drove Jesus to the desert. He didn’t just accidently fall into that experience. He was strongly invited there, actually driven there. That tells me that there’s gift in the desert. The wilderness is a place of solitude, emptiness, simplicity. It’s there that, without my normal distractions, God can speak to me, and us, and we can hear God’s voice. That’s not unlike this Lenten Season with its starkness and simplicity. It may be challenging, but it’s not without beauty. And in this space, hopefully, we can listen more deeply to our God who is always speaking, always trying to catch our attention.
And finally, the desert is a holy place, but we don’t stay there. Immediately after this story in the Gospel of Luke, we’re told that, “Jesus returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit, and news of him spread throughout the whole region.” So, the Spirit drives him to the desert, and then it drives him right back out to begin his ministry. And the same is true for us. We too have a call, a purpose, a mission. God speaks to us in the desert, and then there’s work to be done. Like Jesus, our mission doesn’t happen in the solitude of the desert. It happens with other people. Together, in the power of the Spirit, we’re called to do God’s loving, reconciling, compassionate service too.
So, friends, may we be open to this powerful, challenging, loving Spirit. When we’re tempted to doubt our purpose, I hope we can each give ourselves some desert time, space with God to listen. At times, we may be tempted to despair, tempted to believe that we’re alone with just the wind and sun and sand. When that happens, may we remember how God has been with us, may we lean on each other for comfort, and may we, like the psalmist, pray: “Be with me, God, when I am in trouble.”
For Reflection:
When you look back through your life, where are the times when God has been with you? Especially during the hard times, can you see God’s love and presence?
Does knowing God was with you in the past help you to trust God’s presence with you now? How so?
Is there anything that you’re struggling with now, any temptations you’re facing? What usually helps you through times like this?
And maybe you could spend a little desert time with God right now, or commit to spending some time throughout this season. When you sit in the quiet, what does God say to you?
Sister Leslie Keener, CDP is the director of God Space, a community-building spirituality ministry in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. She’s a Sister of Divine Providence with a Masters in Ministry and a Certificate in Spiritual Direction and Retreats from Creighton University. She directs retreats, meets with people for spiritual direction, and serves as the vocation director for her community. She enjoys music, meaningful conversations, dancing, and good old Lenten desert solitude.