Many years ago Kim and I introduced an exciting new game to our young children. We called it the quiet game. It’s simple: when we say “go,” everybody has to be quiet and the first one to break the silence loses. The kids never won that game.
Maybe you have played this game with your own children? Because sometimes a parent wants some peace and quiet. But I learned later that it isn’t just kids who seem to have a burning need for chatter. One day I had a study date with my grownup daughter. We invited her grandmother along with us. We explained to her we were going to a coffee shop to work, and if she had a book to read, maybe she would like to join us. She said she’d love to.
It sort of didn’t work out very well. We sat together in a booth with our coffee and pastries, Willa and I with our laptops, Claire with her book. But Claire couldn’t seem to go five minutes without conversation. Again and again she broke the silence. And every time she realized once again that we were trying to work, she would say, “Now don’t mind me, I’m fine with my book.”
The thing was, Claire lived alone. And she could sit in silence with her book by herself anytime. But when she was with other people, this was a time for talking. And being able to talk with other people was a treasure for her.
Try spending an extended period of time alone and you will know. Human beings are made to be social – even the most introverted among us are social beings. Being with others, communicating with others, feeds our hearts, our minds, our souls.
It is quite possible you think that being asked to sit here quietly and listen to me talk is an awfully big thing to ask. We are learning from our Big Read, Why Nobody Wants to Go to Church Anymore, that it really does feel like an unreasonable expectation for many people. More than a lecture, or sermon, people want a conversation. More than being talked to, we want to be talking with other people.
The truth is, conversation is wholesome. And when spiritual people share conversation with one another, there is a way in which Jesus is present in the conversation too. To me, a huge part of ministry is participating in conversations with other people about things that really matter. When we have heart to heart talks with one another about things that really matter, Jesus is always present in these conversations.
During this season of lent, we will focus on conversations with Jesus that we read about in the gospel. The conversations with Jesus that are recorded in the scriptures contain many of the questions that we, too, wonder about. And they contain many of the answers that we need too.
So it might seem surprising that we begin a series about conversations with this text, where Jesus goes off into the wilderness alone. Immediately after he is baptized by John in the Jordan, he wanders off to be alone in the wilderness. His “wilderness experience.”
A wilderness experience in the scriptures usually involves an actual wilderness. Like the Israelites leaving the bonds of slavery in Egypt and walking into the wilderness where they stayed for the next 40 years, preparing to take the promised land. Like the young David, before he was king, retreating into the wilderness to await his time. Like the prophet Elijah fleeing to the wilderness when things become overheated in Israel.
But for you and me, a wilderness experience might just mean that we are sort of spiritually lost. To be in the wilderness might just mean that you are lacking purpose or direction in your life, that you are not clear about how and where God is calling you.
But whether it is an actual physical wilderness or a metaphorical wilderness, one thing is the same: it’s lonely. A wilderness journey is something you do alone.
Jesus, we are told, went out into the real wilderness, alone, and stayed there for 40 days and 40 nights, fasting. Jesus went without food for 40 long days and nights. Which is hard – obviously.
But something that may not be immediately obvious is this: he also went without companionship. He went without conversation or laughter, without shared smiles or human touch. He fasted from food for his body and from the kind of food that feeds our spirits – fellowship.
After 40 days and nights, the scripture says, he was famished. And then the tempter comes to him. Call it the devil, or Satan.
But whatever you call it, there is no denying that evil is real. Evil exists and tempts us in all kinds of ways, because it rarely ever presents itself as evil. Evil does not tempt us with horns and pitchforks and fire. Evil has many effective disguises, and it is clear that evil, the devil, or Satan, was using a disguise out in the wilderness with Jesus. It was a disguise of empathy.
A tricky disguise. A good disguise.
Satan came to tempt Jesus – beginning with the temptation to feed himself. And I think the temptation here was not only to turn stones into bread, but to turn the devil into a friend. Who else was there?
Who else was there for him in his time of need? Who else understood what he was going through, the ways he had suffered?
The devil used a disguise of empathy.
Think about it. Have you ever, in trying times, felt the pull of self-pity? No one understands me – no one. Then comes the devil, saying “It’s so true. No one knows how you’ve suffered. They don’t even care. But I care, my friend.
“Here – have a piece of chocolate.”
Just kidding about the chocolate. But, you know what I mean? Doesn’t the old pity party lure you into trouble sometimes? What better excuse is there to indulge in harmful behavior than the old cliché, “Nobody likes me, everybody hates me.
“I guess I’ll go eat worms.”
But the good news is, we don’t need to go there. Listen to the conversation between Jesus and the devil. And we will see, as we see again and again in these dialogues, that there is much for us to learn.
During his wilderness sojourn, Jesus has let go of everything in the world but held fast to his connection with God. He has wandered away the world so that he could become intensely focused on his bond with God. And when the devil says, “Poor you, Jesus! Here – fix yourself something to eat,” Jesus knows this is not the voice of a caring friend.
Watch how he answers. Jesus doesn’t engage with the devil’s agenda. He doesn’t get sucked into a discussion about whether and how he could turn stones into bread. He responds with the word of God. End of that conversation.
But, of course, the devil is not without resources of his own. He replies with some scripture, himself. Maybe it is possible to lure Jesus in with some tempting verses from scripture. God’s angels will protect you, it is written. But Jesus, again, will not engage with the devil’s agenda, he will not be tempted. Nope, he replies. We don’t test the Lord.
A third time the devil tries – this time he almost seems to abandon disguise with a naked offer of raw power. And one last time Jesus turns to the devil and says, “Not today, Satan. Not today.
“Get away, Satan. I am not yours today. There will come a time when you have me. A time when I will submit myself to you and the torments of hell. Believe me, I know it will happen, but it’s not happening today. So be gone.”
I think it was clear who was really in control.
Thanks be to God, we will not need to face such a time ourselves. But the devil, or whatever you like to call it, is still there – hanging around, wearing all kinds of disguises, luring us in.
Next time you find yourself thinking something like, “nobody gets me!” Next time you are feeling so alone and uncared for and misunderstood, think about who you are having a conversation with. If it’s all about how persecuted you are, it will not be Jesus you’re talking to.
Do you want to have a conversation with Jesus? A real heart to heart? Then tell him everything – how lonely you feel. How misunderstood, how uncared for you feel. He will not encourage you to wallow in self-pity. He will not lead you into your most destructive behavior patterns. He will remind you that you are not alone. That you are loved. That you have a true friend forever, in him.
