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| Before he went to Georgia, the Devil made a stop in Judea |
©2025 The Rev. Seth Olson
This sermon was inspired by the above readings and was preached on the First Sunday in Lent at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hoover, AL. A video of the sermon may be found here.
Holy God, may my words be your words, and when my words are not your words, may your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.
I have a question for you: If you had just been baptized, had heaven open up above you, had the Spirit descend on you like a dove, and had God Almighty declare you to be “beloved” with whom he was “well pleased”—what’s the thing you’d expect to happen next?
Maybe a nice meal? A reception? A solid nap?
NOPE! Jesus doesn’t even get a festive potluck before the Spirit sends him into the wilderness for forty days with nothing but his hunger and a very persistent tempter. That’s right, before he went to Georgia the Devil went down to Judea, and you thought your Lenten discipline was tough.
This is the kind of story that reminds us—if the Son of God himself wasn’t spared a wilderness experience, what makes us think we will be? This is like a twist on the famous Alabama highway sign: “Go to Church and the Devil Still Gets You.” Right? If it happened to the most faithful Jesus, what makes us think it won’t happen to us?
Jesus’ temptations took place in a literal desert, but for most of us, our wilderness is a little less sandy and a lot more psychological. Maybe your wilderness looks like anxiety. Or grief. Or fear of the unknown. Maybe your desert is full of distractions, empty promises, and the seductive pull of “just one more episode” on Netflix.
But no matter what your particular wilderness looks like, one thing is for sure: at some point, the tempter, the great Spiritual stumbling block personified will shows up, ready to make you an offer. So, what might that look like? Probably not a guy with a goatee, red spandex, and a pitchfork. Instead of envisioning a modern day devil, let’s wonder: what would the Tempter’s offers look like if he made them to Jesus today?
The first temptation? Bread. “If you are the Son of God, turn this stone into bread.” In modern terms, this is the “you deserve this” temptation. It’s instant gratification. It’s the little voice whispering,
“Go ahead, buy it—you’ve had a hard week.”
“Eating this, drinking that, or doing _______ will make everything right.”
“You don’t need to rest; just push through, you’ll be fine.”
Here the devil isn’t tempting Jesus with something bad. He’s tempting him with something good (sustenance)—but at the wrong time, in the wrong way. Indeed, Jesus would go on to feed thousands, but not by turning stones into bread for himself. Jesus’ “no” came in the desert and his “yes” will come in multiplying loaves and fishes, in breaking bread at a table where all are welcome.
The second temptation? Power, control, authority. “Bow down, and I’ll give you all the kingdoms of the world."
This is the temptation of shortcuts. The “just do what it takes to get ahead or to get power” lie. It’s the devil whispering:
“Just this once, tell them what they want to hear.”
“A little bending of your principles won’t hurt.”
“You can make a difference if you play their game.”
Jesus indeed had power and would be called the King of Kings—but not because he took a deal from the devil. He said “no” in the desert so that he could say “yes” to following the will of the Father and beginning a ministry to upend worldly power itself. In doing so, Jesus created a reign where the humble are exalted and the exalted are humbled, where the first become last and the last become first.
And the third temptation? Spectacle. “Throw yourself down from the Temple; let God prove he’s with you.” This is the social media temptation: “Let people see how special you are.”
It’s the pull to curate a perfect image proving our worth and ensuring people recognize our value. But Jesus refuses. He did indeed show the world who he was, who he is—not by throwing himself from the Temple, but by walking from the Temple down the road carrying his cross to Calvary.
So often we think of Lent as a time where we are supposed to prove ourselves, to win our own battles, to white-knuckle our way through the wilderness. But here’s the good news: Jesus already won.
His “nos” to the devil were not just rejections of the tempter’s false promises, they were also affirmations of something better.
Instead of turning stones into bread, he became the Bread of Life.
Instead of grasping at earthly power, he ushered in the Kingdom of God.
Instead of demanding God prove himself, he walked all the way to the cross to show us who God really is.
And here’s the best part: When we face temptations we never have to face them alone. We might be under the illusion that we do, but the same Spirit that led Jesus into the wilderness is with us right now leading us onward. The same Spirit that sustained him through temptations strengthens us through ours, too. And the same Jesus who refused the devil’s offers is the one who walks alongside us, helping us to say no to the false promises of sin, so that we can say yes to something sustaining, powerful, and real—Life in Christ!
So as we walk this Lenten journey, let us not be afraid of the wilderness. Let’s walk out into it boldly, knowing that we do not walk alone. You’ll never walk alone!
And let’s be ready—because out of every “no” we say to temptation, there is a greater, divine “yes” waiting on the other side. Amen.
