Homily for the 1st Sunday of Lent: Cycle of Victory

Lent Sun 1, C                                                                                                              March 6, 2022
Fr. Albert                                                                                St. John the Evangelist, Jeanerette

Identity. Trial. Thanksgiving. This is the pattern for us in life and the pattern laid out for us at the beginning of Lent. It begins by knowing who we are and what makes us who we are. This identity is challenged, attacked, tried by the Adversary, Satan. And what sustains us through it all is to receive the gifts of God and return it to him with thanksgiving.

Jesus was just baptized in the river Jordan. He is revealed as the Son of God by the Father’s voice. Regardless of what anyone thinks, even what Jesus thinks of himself, he is the Son of God. Period. Of course, Jesus knows this and does not question it, but how often do we?

In baptism, we truly become sons and daughters of God. We have always been made in his image, but baptism fulfills this image by raising us up to the level of his children. As you journey though Lent, as you journey through life, you must remember this: who you are is a son or daughter of God. That is your most fundamental identity. Our other relationships – friends, family, fellow parishioners – these can complement and express this fundamental identity, but they are not the source. And your identity cannot be found in your job, your hobbies, your race, or in who or what you are attracted to. You are a child of God.

And the devil hates this just as he hated it in Adam and Eve and just as he hates it in Jesus Christ. He does everything in his power to convince human beings that their identity is not rooted in God, but comes from something else. From the very first human being to what we see in the Gospel with Jesus, the devil’s tactics are basically the same. He lures us away from that identity with the three-fold concupiscence: the Lust of the Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life.

In the garden, the devil in his hatred wants to make Eve question who she is and what that means for the world. And the more she questions, the more she considers that maybe God’s commands aren’t good for her, the more she notices something about that tree. Despite the fact that she can eat from any other tree and perfectly satisfy her good and natural hunger, she sees the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil and notices that it, too, looks “good for food.” This is the 1st concupiscence: the lust of the flesh – disordered desire for consumption.

He tries the same thing with Jesus, prompting him to abuse his relationship with the father, to make it about satisfying his own desires. He prompts Jesus to make the stones become bread to satisfy his fleshly desires. Jesus refuses, knowing that man does not live by bread alone.

Eve in the Garden looks too long at the tempting fruit and notices that it is also “pleasing to the eyes.” This is the 2nd concupiscence: the lust of the eyes. Rather than admiring beauty, it seeks to possess beauty, to make beauty about pleasing oneself and promoting oneself rather than the creator whose goodness it reflects.

When Satan tries this with Jesus, he ramps it up to promise not just good looking fruit, but all the splendor and glory and beauty of every earthly kingdom – Jesus could use every profound accomplishment, technological advancement, and work of art to glorify and embellish himself. It only requires denying that first relationship, the root of his identity as Son of the Father by worshipping Satan. He refuses.

The last temptation of Adam and Eve in the garden is that the fruit is “desirable for gaining wisdom” because the devil has promised it will make them like God. He claims it gives power to not just see what is good and evil, but to decide for themselves what is right and wrong rather than obeying God. This is the final and worst concupiscence: the pride of life – to set oneself up in the place where God belongs.

When the devil tries this on Jesus, inciting him to manifest his power for the sake of proving his divinity, Jesus refuses because he knows that his Divine identity cannot be manifest apart from the Father’s Divinity – they are one and the same, one God in both divine persons. It is a simple contradiction for Jesus to try to prove he is God by testing the Father and disobeying him. So, He refuses.

In the end, every trial comes back to the same thing: the devil wants Jesus to avoid the cross, to avoid obedience, to choose himself over the sacrifice that God has asked. Because Adam and Even fell to these three temptations, the world is fallen and must be redeemed. Jesus knows that that redemption… that way to true glory goes by way of the Cross. Firm in his identity, Jesus’ suffering in the cross manifests the opposite of each concupiscence that overcame Adam and Eve.

It does not end with torture and death, however. In the midst of the testing, he quotes the book of Deuteronomy: “one does not live by bread alone.” This is why Moses in the first reading commands the Israelites to sacrifice a basket of grain to God in thanksgiving for giving them life and freedom. It goes further. When Jesus quotes a passage, he means to include the whole context, the whole meaning rather than twisting it to his own agenda. Unlike the devil who tries to ignore context, Jesus intends to reference also the second half of that passage: “but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.” And it is this living “by every word that comes forth” which leads us back to the original triad of identity, trial, and thanksgiving.

God’s word is what made us human in the first place and grounds our identity in baptism: “let us make man in our own image” and “this is my beloved son.” It is clinging to God’s word – all of it – that sustains us when the devil twists those words out of context. But Jesus takes the metaphor of bread vs. the word of God and flips it entirely by making God’s word into bread. Jesus is the Word of God. He is the word made flesh who gives us that flesh to eat, miraculously present in what looks like bread but is no longer. We are sustained not just be knowing scripture, but by literally eating the word of God in the Eucharist.

And this Eucharist – which means thanksgiving – is what brings everything to completion. Jesus embraces the trial of the Cross both because he is sure of his identity as the Son of God and because he looks forward to the glory of the resurrection. He is so sure of this that he gives thanks even while being tested.

So it must be with us during Lent. Lent is not just penance and self-denial. It starts with affirming our identity as children of God. Only from that foundation can we endure the trial it represents. Still, even that makes sense only because Lent must turn into Easter. We face down temptations, reassert our identity, and freely embrace the cross of fasting, almsgiving, and prayer which directly counteract the three temptations of lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes, and pride of life. We sustain ourselves with the Eucharist, the word from God’s mouth, because we know… we “believe with the heart” and “confess with the mouth” that Jesus rose from the dead and that we will rise too.

So, for our trials to be successful, to share in the victory of Christ in the desert, we should start by giving thanks even now. Thank God that your identity is not rooted in anything this world offers, but in your relationship to him. Thank him that, by the power of Christ in the Eucharist and Confession, you can overcome the trials of Satan. Thank him that you can live not just by bread, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of God, even to the point of eating that word.

Embrace this Lent not out of fear, but out of certainty in who you are. Embrace it not out of self-hatred, but through hatred of the devil and his lies. Embrace it not with self-pity but with gratitude, giving thanks that, by persevering in faith, you really can overcome the devil himself.