It all began shortly after Jesus wended his way down to the Jordan River and was baptized. What with the Holy Spirit descending like a dove and fluttering for a moment or two over his head and the holy booming voice from heaven declaring him to be the Son with whom Yahweh/God was well-pleased, surely Jesus felt equipped to go forth and do ministry.
However - “Soon, but not yet,” God informed him. And instead the Holy Spirit shooed Jesus off into the wilderness. There he remained for 40 days and 40 nights – like Noah in his ark – all that time, we are told, with no food to eat and nothing to drink, no books to read, no cell phone to facetime with, no ipad for wiling away the time watching youtube videos of cute kittens and guilty dogs and for checking his newsfeed on facebook. Alas, no internet at all to aimlessly surf. A six-week time out.
It was just Jesus out there - alone with his hopes and dreams and fears - and prayers. With all the cultural trappings and distractions removed, what was left foremost in his mind were his thoughts about what most likely would tempt him to compromise his ministry. Three things really.
First, there was the physical aspect of walking from town to town and village to village, not knowing if he would have a bed at night or where his next meal would come from. He heard his stomach growling, even now in the wilderness. Playingon that hunger, the first ugly thought emerged: “So you think you are God’s son, someone special. Then command this stone to turn into a loaf of bread.”
Jesus thought for a while and then answered himself by quoting from the book of Deuteronomy in the Old Testament part of the Bible: “It takes more than bread to really live.” No bread now, he intuitively sensed. That day would come.
And, sure enough, it did too because in the not-too-distant future, late one afternoon he would find himself gazing at a hungry crowd. Many of them would be like him here in the wilderness, not knowing where their next meal was coming from.
At the moment when Jesus would feel enormous compassion but be at a complete loss as to how to help, a nameless boy would step up to share his supper, and Jesus would bless the bread and the fish. That meager but generous offering would feed five thousand people. “Yes,” Jesus realized, ““It takes more than bread to really live. It takes compassion. It takes generosity.”
Next he imagined being led up a high mountain to see all the kingdoms of the earth on display. And he heard a cajoling voice say, “They could all be yours to control at your pleasure. Imagine that! All yours if you will just worship the power, the money, the greed. All yours if you will only embrace the cultural values of this world – the walls, the weapons, the tax loopholes, the rich get rich and the poor get poorer.”
However, once again, Jesus did not listen long to that niggling but persuasive voice. He abstained, again backing his refusal with Hebrew scripture: “Worship the Lord your God and only the Lord your God. Serve God with absolute single-heartedness.” And if you serve God, he told himself confidently, then you serve love - and that is good.
And finally, Jesus encountered a third test. He found himself imagining that he was on the very highest pinnacle of the Jerusalem Temple, and that ugly voice within him spoke, “If you are God’s Son, jump. It’s written, isn’t it, right there in the Psalms, that ‘he has placed you in the care of angels to protect you; they will catch you; you won’t so much as stub your toe on a stone’?”
“Yes,” said Jesus to himself, but “it is also written, ‘Don’t you dare tempt the Lord your God.’” From here on out, he concluded, I am in partnership with the Almighty.
And on that triumphant note, Jesus emerged from the wilderness, his soul-searching complete, and his values clear: Compassion, reconciliation, radical inclusion, peace-making, non-violence, economic justice, and mercy, a soft spot always in his heart for the poor, the disabled, the powerless. And on that sacred note, Jesus began his ministry.
You know, we often read this passage on the first Sunday in the season of Lent. We use it to contemplate what we might sacrifice over our forty days to feel more akin to Jesus in the wilderness. In short, we focus almost exclusively on Jesus’ ability to overcome temptation – and hope that we can do the same and survive until Easter without chocolate or Grey’s Anatomy.
However, I think Jesus’ experience in the wilderness – be it desert, forest, or the wilderness of his own mind – was a time of deep and profound soul-searching. It is in that context, I believe, that we feel most akin to him. At least, that is how I understand the passage.
These verses are significant for us because we see Jesus pausing to figure out some really important stuff about his call to ministry. The Spirit nudged him away from the 24/7 inevitable chaos of his life into a time of undistracted self-reflection to determine exactly what it was that he stood for, what he would stake his life against.
In those 40 days, Jesus saw the big picture of God’s sweeping dream for the world and so figured out where he fit into that dream. In short, Jesus hovered and, in doing so, figured out where he fit into God’s dream. He intentionally took the time to see the big picture. He stepped aback and removed himself from all the details and detritus of his life to see something bigger, to see the whole.
Recently Joe and I went to the musical, “Camelot.” I had forgotten that, when King Arthur was a young boy, Merlin had once transformed him into a hawk. As Arthur soared high above the trees, he could see that there were no borders between tribal lands except those claimed by kings and chieftains. Because he was able to see the big picture, Arthur could dream of his Round Table and one day bring knights from warring factions together in a peaceful initiative. That is what “hovering” can do.
When I think of “hovering”, I also remember one of the first times I flew from Maine to the West Coast. Because it was a clear day, I could see the landscape below me morph from populated towns to sparsely populated hills to flat lands to jagged mountain ranges to sprawling cities once again. I was acutely aware of the vast geographic diversity of our nation because I could literally see the big picture below me.
How unfortunate that, in this age of ancient gratification, “hovering” is rapidly becoming a lost art! We seldom take the time to see the big picture of our lives. Too often, we get caught up in – and often obsessed by - the intensity of immediate events (thank you cable news), so that even our best laid plans to stay centered leave us feeling fragmented and ungrounded.
It is not only Jesus who depended on hovering to define who he was meant to be. We all require it. Each one of us needs time and space to think, to ruminate, to pray for direction and clarity, to consider what is necessary. It may feel like a luxury, but even Jesus exemplified its necessity. Our work in the world as Christians depends on hovering. Understanding how our individual actions fit into God’s dream for the world is important stuff.
However, hovering need not be some elaborate visioning quest. As author Emma Mildon shared in an article I read this week, “I have traveled everywhere from Spain to Peru and Egypt to New Zealand meeting tea leaf readers, astrologists, shaman, healers, regressionists, physics, mystics, artists, yogis, and other soul searchers along the way. What did I learn? I learned that while I had emptied my bank account traveling the globe on a search for self-discovery, that actually, all the answers were deep within me — go figure!”
Hovering here in church – understanding where we fit into the big picture of 21stcentury Christianity – is critical to our survival as a faith community, and it is two pronged. First, it is the intentional practice as a congregation of looking within our church family to discover where our particular energies lie. Second it is the intentional individual practice of defining what our unique passions are that will build up our church community as we strive to make God’s dream a reality.
Hovering here in church is recognizing and affirming that what each one of you chooses to do with your time and your gifts will determine whether we thrive – or even survive – as a congregation. What you choose to do with your time and your gifts will affect God’s dream – either enhancing it or diminishing it.
One day a traveler encountered three stonecutters working in a quarry. Each was busy cutting a block of rock. Interested to find out what they were working on, he asked the first stonecutter what he was doing.
“I am cutting a stone!”
Still no wiser, the traveler turned to the second stonecutter and asked him what he was doing. “I am cutting this block of stone to make sure that it’s square, and its dimensions are uniform, so that it will fit exactly in its place in a wall.”
Still unclear, the traveler turned to the third stonecutter. He seemed to be the happiest of the three and when asked what he was doing replied: “I am building a cathedral.”
Each one of us is – with our gifts and time and energy – is part of something bigger than ourselves. We are stonecutters with a clearly defined purpose. Each one of us part of a whole, is part of God’s dream. Each one of us is called to participate in building a cathedral. Be like the third stonecutter and trust that you are part of that bigger story.
You see, what you choose to do matters. What this church chooses to do as we move forward into an unknown future matters. It is so easy for us to look for the quick fix: more people in the pews, more pledging units, more volunteers to change a rocky financial future.
Before jumping to those conclusions, however, let’s do some hovering. Let’s look at the big picture. Let’s look at God’s dream embodied in the person of Jesus. Let’s consider the values with which Jesus began his ministry: Compassion, reconciliation, radical inclusion, peace-making, non-violence, economic justice, and mercy, a soft spot always in his heart for the poor, the disabled, the powerless.
And as we hover, let’s consider where our creative energies and passions fit into those values, into that big picture, that dream. Let’s ask and answer this question:
If I didn’t feel like I needed to fix everything, what one thing can I focus on now in this church to help make God’s dream a reality?
Jesus did his hovering for 40 days in the wilderness, and he clearly defined his values. When he had done that, he faithfully and, on that sacred note, began his ministry. May we do likewise. May we too hover , define our values, and begin our ministry as a church anew.
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