Let us recall the following
theology statement in our Constitutions:
Transitions of every sort mark our lives. We try to recognize in each of
them a graced moment in our ongoing formation, one in which we can live out the
paschal mystery and build the kingdom of God. (#58)
Some transitions are inevitable in our human experience, some are probable, and
others are possible but perhaps not likely. Birth, adolescence, mid-life,
senior life, death… are transitions that are natural to every human experience,
given an average life span.
Transitions always begin with endings that place us in an in-between space – or
liminality that is uncomfortable, uncertain, disorienting; there may be a loss
of a sense of identity, and oftentimes we can experience a change in our
relationship with ourself and perhaps with God as well.
“When we face those times of uncertainty in our life, the scene is often
blurry. Things we were so sure of suddenly make little sense. The
answers we thought were clear now seem lost in a distant fog, and we wander
aimlessly, unable to regain the focus we once believed we had. Our confusion is
unsettling. Doubt, like vertigo, distorts our balance as we fearfully
wander in a vast and empty inner wilderness. As we wrestle with the
darkness, a rush of panic washes into our hearts, our breath becomes shallow
and, with each question, the judgments seem to escalate.” (S. Doris Klein)
Here in our gospel, we find Jesus smack dab in the midst of transition – and
“knee deep” in liminal space. This could be considered his novitiate, or
sabbatical time, a vision quest, or the Spirit’s idea of boot camp for
prophets.
After Jesus heard God call him “My Beloved” at his baptism, we are told that
the spirit drove him into the desert to discover what it would mean to be God’s
Beloved.
It is here in this wilderness that his spiritual, psychological, and personal
inner strength is challenged by the tempter who is the master of delusion,
denial, and lies, and who is taunting him to choose the “dark side.”
Jesus’ desert drama is a struggle that will prepare him for all that awaits him
in his public ministry and mission as the Anointed One. He will carry no
light saber or magic wand to ward off the stones of critics, opponents, or
enemies that find him too much for them.
Here in the wilderness, he has fasted for forty days and forty nights. It
is here on the margins of the city that he will wrestle with the demons of
hunger, power, prestige, possessions, and fame. In his physical emptiness, he
is made vulnerable in his title as Beloved. He is confronted by the
tempter to turn stones into bread – a temptation that entices him to believe
that if his hunger would be satisfied with earthly pleasures – it will be
enough.
It is here in the school of the desert that he chooses the emptiness of letting
go of all that satisfied him in the past – his relationships of his village,
his family, his simple life of carpentry, his privacy, his identity, For
Jesus all of the comfortable, familiar, and secure have ended. He refuses
to give in to the tempter of illusion and is nourished again by the voice and
words of God - for his journey will be one of feeding the hungry in spirit,
mind, and body with the bread of his words.
His second temptation is to doubt God’s abiding love. Jesus is challenged to
test whether or not God is really trustworthy. Jumping from the pinnacle
of the temple would gain Jesus instant acclaim as a wonder worker, winning over
the multitudes. But Jesus stands firm. He refuses to give in to
self-destruction and self-hatred and chooses to remain faithful to God,
trusting God’s unconditional love.
Finally, the tempter shows Jesus all the kingdoms of the world and taunts that
if he is God’s Beloved, why not be popular, famous, and have a chance to be a
rock star? This is a subtle temptation for domination and power, to
become an owner of everything, having control of everyone, in charge of life
itself. The price demanded by the tempter for all the kingdoms of the
world was to worship him. Jesus again says that being the Beloved is all that
he needs and chooses faithfulness to God.
So what is the Good News for us?
“To struggle is to begin to see the world differently. It gives us
a new sense of self. It tests all the faith in the goodness of God that
we have ever professed. It requires an audacity we did not know we had.
It demands a commitment to the truth. It builds forbearance. It tests our
purity of heart.
It brings total metamorphosis of soul. If we are willing to persevere
through the depths of struggle we can emerge with conversion, faith, courage,
surrender, self-acceptance, endurance, and a kind of personal growth that takes
us beyond pain to understanding. Enduring struggle is the price to be
paid for becoming everything we are meant to be in the world.” (S. Joan
Chittister)
Let us ponder:
• As individuals, as a community, a church, as people of this shared planet . .
. how do we face struggles with the hungers, illusions, and powers of
temptation that confront us every day?
• What struggles do we face at this juncture of “in-betweenness” and
liminality? Can we accept the challenges: to name them, realize their impact,
and consequences? Then, how will we choose to walk with trust, hope, and
audacity into the now and not-yet?
• What is the grace we desire at this time, at the beginning of Lent, as we
prepare to move through the paschal mystery?
• What gifts within our present transitions are we invited to claim? Are
we able to surrender to this time of conversion, allowing angels to minister to
us and to nourish us with God’s Word and the faith of one another, and letting
go of the needs and desires that separate us from God?
So let us pray:
• Transitions of every sort mark our lives. We try to recognize in each
of them a graced moment in our ongoing formation, one in which we can live out
the paschal mystery and build the kingdom of God. (#58)
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