On the First Sunday in Lent each year, we read about the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness. Here’s the collect:
Almighty God, whose blessed Son was led by the Spirit to be tempted by Satan: Come quickly to help us who are assaulted by many temptations; and, as you know the weaknesses of each of us, let each one find you mighty to save; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Assaulted by many temptations
It seems to me that learning to perceive how temptation works in one’s life is an essential part of maturing in faith. The stylized accounts of Christ’s temptations in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke can give us the idea that our temptations will be obvious to us: the devil will appear to us looking devilish, smelling of sulphur, suggesting overtly sinful actions to us.
But this isn’t how temptation works at all. I’ve learned from reading the desert fathers and mothers that temptation usually just sounds like ideas in our minds that don’t initially strike us as “evil”. These ideas aren’t typically “instrusive thoughts” to commit acts of violence or obvious sin, but rather stories about who we are, and who God is for us, and what is lacking in our lives, and what we need to secure goodness for ourselves and others.
To be “assaulted by many temptations,” as the collect says we are, is to be subject to telling ourselves stories that subtely affect how we show up in our lives and in our relationships. Stories like
“I’m doing most of the work around here, and nobody recognizes it.”
“I deserve better than what I’m getting in this relationship.”
“What I’ve done is unforgiveable and nobody can ever know.”
“What I’ve done is no big deal compared to what they’ve done.”
“I’m just one person, how could I make a difference anyway?”
“This is just part of my personality.”
“This is probably as good as it gets in this relationship. To pursue anything better will only lead to heartbreak.”
“Since I’m working for the greater good, my pecadillos aren’t that big of a deal.”
“Other people don’t seem to struggle as much as I do.”
“Why me?”
In entertaining these stories, turning them over in our minds, we can start to believe they might be true. Confirmation bias will kick in and we’ll see evidence of the truth of these stories all over the place, and we’ll dive headlong into bitterness, resentment, envy, accusation, dissension, self-indugence, contempt, and all manner of sin.
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