Tuesday, February 24, 2015

The Symphony of the Temptation

Traditionally, a symphony is written in four movements, each a distinct section in and of itself, but also part of a larger whole.  Beginning movements are great vehicles for development through the entire work of art.  Themes and variations, like carefully hung Christmas tree ornaments, can be heard throughout the full piece.  

So has been my journey with the story of The Temptation of Jesus.  A Masterful Composer has brought me back to this account many, many times. The key of the story has never changed, but He’s introduced contrasting styles, interlinking melodies, harmonies, dynamics and rhythm alterations.



Movement 1: Sola Scriptura
As a young believer, I was taught this account was all about scripture. In his temptation, Jesus answered with quotes from the scriptures and that was the point of the story.  It was about combating lies with truth.  It was about answers, fixing the problem, and Jesus being an example of how I was to live.  This movement of the symphony was very geometric, formulaic, and easy enough to understand.



Movement 2: A New Human
As years went on and my faith suitcase was shaken up a little, a new variation emerged from this supposed mathematical story.  In the temptation, Jesus, the Messiah, was being the Israel that Israel had failed to be.  The temptations of hunger, testing God, and who to worship were ones that Israel, as God’s chosen people, had failed in the desert.  Here, however, Jesus was, in one sense, re-writing the story.  He would be the truly human one - the one who really acted like God’s chosen.  He used scripture not just because it was a confrontation between truth and lies, but because he was pulling the ancient story of the Israelites in the desert into the present and saying, “This is how it was supposed to be done”.  His actions and response gave credibility to his call of “Follow Me”.



Movement 3: Solidarity
The symphony slows down at this point, almost to a funeral dirge.  The overtones turn dark and haunting as the Wilderness became my habitation, not just words I read on the pages of my Bible.  Jesus being led into the wilderness by the Spirit, his extreme hunger, his aloneness, were becoming my experience too.  I knew the picture of Jesus sitting alone on the dark, jagged rocks of the wilderness.  I knew weakness and a great weight bearing down on my shoulders that threatened to crush me.  My life became part of the symphony and I felt, perhaps for the first time, a wholly human Jesus.  He chose solidarity with humanity!  As my life and the story were woven together in the adagio (slow music), it became clear that Jesus was with me (and I with him) in the wilderness.  The oh-so-human experience of temptation was breached, not by an army but by a God who chose to experience it himself.

Briton Riviere, The Temptation in the Wilderness

Movement 4: The Way
Much to my embarrassment,  I think I’ve always been cynical of whether or not Jesus actually was tempted in all the ways I am...until the fourth movement of the symphony.  While the specifics of the tempting offers were important for the music of earlier movements, these now gave way to the greatest temptation in all of it.  When faced with the choice between wanting legitimate pleasures in life and intimacy with the Father, Jesus chooses the Father.  The crescendo of the symphony is Jesus singing (between the lines), “I’d rather have the Father and nothing else than everything without Him.” (quoting Larry Crabb).  That is the root of my temptation too.  Do I want the Father more than I want anything else I desire, and will I chose to stay close to Him?  Jesus not only sympathizes with my temptation because he’s experienced it, but he says to me that I can do what he did.  Because I follow him and his Spirit is alive in me, my greatest desire can be (is) the Father and I can choose Him even when hard pressed.

Photo by Jennifer Kitson

Thank you for the symphony, Lord!  One movement does not have to be thrown out or negated, but rather in the hands of a Master Composer, each piece takes its rightful place, adding to the beauty of the whole.  Though I am stubbornly impatient, I am so grateful for the years it took to fashion this beautiful symphony.  You were in each movement...and I am sure you will be in the ones I cannot yet foresee too!

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

On the Edge of Ashes




Last year's Hosanna's have gone.  Palm branches have been burned and what is left resides in a small container no larger than my hand.  The ashes, the dark, smudgy ashes are ready for marking.  But what do they mark, really?  What do they remind us of?  Why do so many in the world chose to have this mark imposed on them?


DIRT
These sooty ashes are applied with the words "You are dust and to dust you will return", and so they remind us of our earthiness.  They speak of our mortality, for we shall return to dust, but they also remind us of our humanity.  They whisper the ancient story of a God who fashions creatures out of soil.  These ashes remind us of our beginnings and endings, ans so teach us to number well our days.

LIVE
Yes, they may remind us that someday we may die, but they shout at us to live!  To live, not in sin, but in new life.  To not get stuck but to walk toward something (or Someone) with new practices.  These ashes beg us to live by letting go...or taking up some new action.  They cheer us on to life - not half-lived in mediocrity, but toward rigor, challenge, and a robust faith.

REPENTANCE
Ashes have long been a symbol for sorrow and grief.  These ashes remind us to take inventory of our lives, and in the ensuing sorrow, lead us to repentance.  The cross of ashes whispers what many in our world do not know:  there is freedom in serving only one Master.  Repentance becomes the door to transformation.

TRANSFORMATION
The ashes declare that transformation is possible, and we do not go it alone.  Through the renewing of our minds, through allowing God to change our psyche, a new person can emerge.  We are not left to ourselves in a fatalistic universe.  God has intervened and we can become new creatures!



PRAYER
The ashes also offer us an invitation to come and follow Jesus into the wilderness.  They invite us to fast and pray for 40 days.  Jesus, the Master, dis it and we are to follow Him.  These cinders invite us into a new kind of humanity that we find in Jesus.  A humanity who chooses the Father and His will over and above the screeching temptations of "take care of yourself", "prove yourself", and "indulge yourself with power".

Coming to the edge of ashes takes courage.  Will we allow them not to just mark our foreheads but our whole being as well?  Will we let them do their full 40-day work, even long after we've rubbed off their smudges?


"Oh God, let something essential happen to me, something more than interesting or entertaining or thoughtful.
Oh God let something essential happen to me, something awesome, something real.  Speak to my condition, Lord, and change me somewhere inside where it matters.
Let something happen which is my real self, Oh God."
    (Ted Loder, Guerrillas of Grace)