Pr. Michelle Sevig
First Sunday in Lent
March 10, 2019
Who Are You?
Who are you? How do you answer that question in a concise way if someone asks? On social media we briefly say who we are on our profile pages. My Facebook page says I am “Mom to 3, Wife to 1, little league baseball watcher and naked baby baptizer.” A friend’s Twitter account says, “Jesus follower, ant-racist, he/him, feminist, theologian.”
But imagine if we declared who we are each time we interact with someone. Hello, my name is Michelle. I’m mom to 3, wife to 1, little league baseball watcher and naked baby baptizer. It might give others a glimpse of me, but it wouldn’t begin to tell the whole story of who I am.
On International Women’s Day, my friend Andrea wrote a social media post that allowed her to unpack more of her identity and history. Inspired by a popular Latin song, she wrote, “I am Andrea, daughter of Julieta Margot, granddaughter of Julie and Lore, great-granddaughter of… [and she went back two more generations listing grandmothers]. She went on to say, “I am the daughter of thousands of courageous women who precede me and are lost in the mists of history. I have not met them and cannot even imagine what they were like. Grandmothers, I invoke you from Love, seeking the Wisdom that is found in your legacy… I know that wherever one is, there, too, are their ancestors…”
In today’s reading from Deuteronomy, we also go back generations and generations, learning about the Israelites who wandered in the desert for 40 years with Moses as their leader, waiting for God to lead them to a land promised their ancestors. When they come into the promised land they’re instructed to be generous in their giving because the Lord has been generous to them. They are to give not just to fulfill the law, but to remember who they are and from where they came.
When they give their first fruits offering, they are to say “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien… and we became great nation… When the Egyptians treated us harshly… we cried to the Lord, the God of our ancestors; (and) the Lord heard our voice and saw our oppression. The Lord brought us out of Egypt… brought us into this place… a land flowing with milk and honey.” It doesn’t exactly fit the Facebook or Twitter model, but every time they made an offering, they introduced themselves in this way. And their identity, who they are, was shaped by the retelling of their story.
So it is with today’s Gospel story about Jesus, whose identity was also shaped in the wilderness. He’d just been baptized, the heavens opened up and a voice declared, “You are my son, the beloved one.” He’s immediately led by the spirit into the wilderness for 40 days, where he ate nothing and became famished. Three times the tempter says to him, “If you are the Son of God…” At least that’s how its translated in English. But it is more accurately translated, “since you are the son of God” or “because you are the Son of God.” The devil is the one who announces Jesus’ identity. Clearly. Concisely. To the point. Less than the Twitter count max. You are the Son of God.
Then he’s told to prove it. Make this stone into bread. Worship me and I’ll give you all the power in the world. Jump and you’ll be safe. In each case, the devil tests Jesus’ confidence in both God and himself—that Jesus is enough, that he is secure, that he is worthy of God’s love. Each time an offer is made Jesus quotes the sacred story of Israel, his ancestry, and asserts that he is part of that story and reaffirms his identity as beloved child of God.
Identity. Wilderness. 40 years and 40 days. Welcome to this first Sunday in Lent. During these 40 days we focus on the disciplines of prayer, fasting and giving generously, not because it’s required by the law, but because God has been so generous to us. During the season of Lent we’re invited to engage in these practices because it’s too easy to forget the source of blessing in our lives. We like to think we’re self-made, that we got to where we are with our own grit and determination. Sometimes we remember those who came before us and brought us safe thus far, but this wilderness time in Lent reminds us of our utter dependence on God. Because surely, we will be thrown into the wilderness again, sooner or later, by illness or injury, loss or despair. And on a daily basis, we’ll be tempted to lose our faith in God, lose confidence in ourselves, listen to messages that we’re not enough.
Too often our Lenten focus has been on what we shouldn’t do instead of pointing us to the gift and grace of our identity as children of God. That’s a “Who are you” that can fit on a social media page or be repeated to those you meet, if you have the courage: I am Child of God, follower of Jesus, led by the Spirit in all the wilderness challenges I face.
In this community, we’re reminded of our identity and our future. When the world’s evils try to convince us that we are not good enough, that we can be freer with more power or prestige, that we should rely on ourselves and no one else, we come to this holy place to have our baptismal identity, Beloved Child of God, renewed and restored. Let us go forward in the next 40 days and beyond, rooted in this identity to live confidently in God’s abundant love for everyone.