Famished

The Church of St. Paul and Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

March 1, 2020

Year A: The First Sunday in Lent

Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7

Psalm 32

Romans 5:12-19

Matthew 4:1-11

Famished

            Last week we experienced one of the most dramatic shifts of the church year.

            On Tuesday evening, many of us gathered in Carr Hall for our pancake supper, when we stuffed ourselves with delicious food, enjoyed the many talents of our parishioners (even a magic act by Virgil the Magnificent!).

Plus, our kids battled it out in the pancake-flipping contest, and, thanks be to God and to many hands, the cleanup was amazingly fast and thorough.

            It was a great time.

            And then, after a quick night’s rest, it was Ash Wednesday and the start of the holy season of Lent.

            During Lent we try to make enough changes to the look of the church and to the order of the service so that you’re not completely disoriented but you can feel that this is a different time, a quieter time, a time for prayer and penance, and, maybe, for some of us, a time for fasting.

            On this First Sunday in Lent we always hear the story of Jesus’ wilderness time.

            Three of the gospels – Mark, Matthew, and Luke – all remember that right after his baptism, Jesus goes – or is led as Matthew says – into the wilderness.

            We are told that he was there for forty days and forty nights, reminding us of the forty days that Noah and his family and the creatures of the earth were on the ark – reminding us of the forty days that Moses was on Mt. Sinai – and reminding us of the forty years that Moses led the Israelites through their own wilderness time.

            At the end of his forty days in the wilderness, we’re told that Satan – who, by the way, seems to know the Bible quite well – tempts Jesus.

            Jesus is tempted to use his power for his own wellbeing and glory – tempted to worship Satan to gain the world, but lose everything that really matters.

            Jesus resisted these temptations – he knows the Bible, too – and Satan leaves him, at least for now.

            I’m sure this wasn’t the first time that Jesus had been tempted – and it surely won’t be the last either.

            The truth is that temptation is all around – all around Jesus and all around us – and temptation is especially dangerous when we are… “famished.”

            “Famished.”

            It’s a great word, isn’t it?

            It’s a word that we’ve cheapened, often using it at times like when we’ve skipped lunch and are poking around the refrigerator for a bite to tide us over to dinner.

            But, Jesus has been fasting in the wilderness for forty days and forty nights!

            On Ash Wednesday, I started to feel “hangry” right around noon after just a few hours of fasting, so I can’t really imagine what it must have been like to go that long without food!

            For some of us, fasting can be a good spiritual exercise, reminding us of our total dependence on God, reminding us of just how much food – how much everything – we have.

            Fasting can be good for us, if we go into it knowing what we’re doing, knowing that we are deliberately denying ourselves for a time.

            But even if we go into it with our eyes wide open, fasting can leave us feeling famished, leaving us vulnerable to temptation.

            The timing of Jesus’ temptation is no accident – he was famished – he was weak – and it was then that Bible-quoting Satan saw his opportunity.

            Fortunately, Jesus knew what he was doing – he’s Jesus, after all - and he was able to resist temptation, although he was famished.

            As I’ve been thinking about this, I’ve come to believe that most, if not all, of us have been fasting – not us a spiritual exercise, but without really knowing it.

            I’ve come to believe that we’re famished – that we are spiritually famished - and that leaves us vulnerable to temptation, vulnerable to Satan who, as always, knows just when to strike.

            Recently Bishop Hughes gathered most of the clergy of our diocese for an all-day meeting where she talked about how too many priests have been getting themselves into trouble of one kind or another.

            It was an important, if grim, discussion.

            And, one of the most striking moments was when she described a kind of profile of the clergyperson who gets into trouble - who, we might say, gives into temptation.

            They tend to be people who isolate themselves, who don’t take care of their physical, emotional, and spiritual health, who don’t maintain healthy relationships with family and friends.

            I’m saying “they” but probably all of us in the room that day could see ourselves, at least partly, in that description.

            I didn’t think of it this way at the time, but they – we - are unintentionally fasting from all of the best parts of life, what feeds us, what gives us joy, hope, and strength.

            Famished.

            And, if “professionally religious people” like us are famished, what about everybody else?

            One time, a person came to see me in my office. And after we talked for a few minutes she cried out, “I’m starving! I’m starving!”

            She didn’t need a sandwich. She was starving for spiritual food.

            So, I think most, if not all, of us are famished.

            Not from giving up chocolate or going a few hours without eating, but famished because we’ve starved ourselves of spiritual food.

            Many of us have the heavy responsibilities of work and family.

            Many of us carry the burdens of regret, of roads not taken and bad choices made.

Many of us are anxious, especially these days with the threat of a new mysterious disease closing in on us.

            Many of us have filled up our lives with constant texting and scrolling and commenting.

            Many of us spend too much time outraged by the latest words or deeds of politicians, without actually doing anything to improve our politics or our community.

            Many of us don’t take care of our physical, emotional, and spiritual health.

            Many of us have chosen to isolate ourselves, maybe fooling ourselves into thinking that a Facebook friend is the real thing, that texting is as good as real conversation.

            Many of us set aside so little time for prayer and reflection, crowding God out of our lives.

            We’re famished.

 And temptation is all around us – and we’re nowhere near as strong as Jesus.

Temptation is all around us – yes, the temptation to do the wrong thing but even more dangerous, the temptation to give in to fear and despair.

            But, the good news is that God is always ready and willing to feed us – just as God fed the Israelites in the wilderness, just as the angels waited on Jesus when his forty days were over, just as God gives to us Jesus the Bread of Life.

            So, this Lent, yes, sure, if it’s right for you, do some intentional fasting – give up a pleasure or a luxury, skip an occasional meal, and give the money you save to people in need.

            But, most of all, this Lent and always, eat of the goodness that’s all around us – eat of the goodness that we receive here – eat of the goodness that we need - eat and drink of the goodness that God always offers to us.

            Amen.