Matthew 4 | Temptation in the Wilderness 2000

*Preached at Grace North Church March 12th, 2000*

In Das Rheingold, the first opera in Wagner's Ring cycle, the action begins when the Rheinmaidens, the daughters of the river, are teasing the dwarf, Alberich. They seem to get a great deal of pleasure out of his frustration, as they lure him on romantically and then spurn his advances. Eventually they up the ante by telling him their great secret, that the gold that lies beneath the river can be had by anyone who forswears love. Of course, Alberich is such a little bundle of sexual angst, that they can't imagine in a million years that he might be tempted to do that. It is just that much more to tease him with.

But Alberich surprises them. He swears off forever the love of woman, and seizes the river's gold for himself. And from it he forges a ring of power, that can control the fate of even the gods.

Now about this time Wotan, the King of the gods, is facing a dilemma. He promised the frost giants the goddess Freya if they would build his castle. The giants have finished the castle, and they come to collect Freya. Instantly the gods realize this was a BAD mistake, because Freya's apples are the source of their immortality. No Freya, no apples. No apples, no youth.

Thor suggests that they simply kill the giants, and tempting as this idea is, Wotan nixes it for one very good reason: he is God and he must obey his own rules. The staff of Law he holds prevents that course of action. Panicked, the gods invoke Loki, the trickster god, who is not on anybody's side. Loki tells them about the Rheingold and about the dwarf Alberich, and suggests that the giants might take this gold instead of Freya, and since Alberich stole it in the first place, it wouldn't really be stealing to take from a thief. This Wotan does, and Alberich curses the ring and all who wear it.

Not heeding this curse, Wotan decides to give all the gold to the ice giants, EXCEPT for the ring, which we intends to keep for himself. But then the frost giants enter and agree to the trade, but they are not happy with simply the pile of gold; they want the ring, too.

Mysteriously, another figure appears, Erda, the earth goddess, who prophesies that they must surrender the ring or they are doomed, doomed, doomed. Wotan struggles with this, but finally, he throws the ring on the pile, and the exchange is made.

One of the frost giants no sooner receives the booty than he kills his brother giant over it, proving Erda's warning about the accursed ring.

In this story, well known to opera lovers everywhere, the characters are faced with numerous temptations. Alberich is tempted to wield power over the earth, to take the earth's treasures for his own, without considering the consequences of his actions. Thor and Wotan are tempted to wield power over other beings when they consider simply killing the giants in order to get their way, and finally Wotan is tempted to grasp power over even divine beings, and indeed the universe, by clinging to the dread ring of power.

So we see three types of temptation in this story, to grasp power over the earth, over other people, and power over the gods. To the gods' credit, they do not give in to their temptations, but the poor dwarf Alberich is not so discriminating, and he suffers for it.

It is interesting to note how often the mythologies of diverse cultures run parallel, because when we come to the story of Jesus' journey into the wilderness in today's gospel reading, we find the same pattern of temptations.

First, Satan tempts Jesus to wield power over the natural world and turn stones into bread. He tempts him to use his "magic powers" for his own comfort, to impose his will upon his environment in order to get what he wants.

Later, Satan tempts Jesus with temporal power, power over all the peoples of the world. All Jesus has to do is swear his loyalty and the world is his; all the nations, all the wealth, all the power. All he has to do is sell his soul. How many people do you know who think that this is a bargain?

Finally, Satan tempts Jesus to wield power over God, to force God to save him. Satan tells him to jump off of the temple, for God was sure to send angels to break his fall and thereby prove to all those in the crowded city square below that he was the Son of God. Wield power over God?? Surely by this point anyone could see the absurdity of Satan's temptation, the desperation he must have been feeling to propose this one. "Wield power over God, so that you can put on a good show."

No. Jesus refuses. He will have none of it. Jesus will not wield his power over the earth. He will not wield power over the people. He will not wield power over God. That is not Christ's way. Paul says that he "emptied himself of power and took on the form of a servant." It was by abdicating power that Jesus performed his redeeming work. It was by rejecting power that he confounded not just Satan, but the religious and civil authorities, and yes, Jesus continues to confound us today.

These temptations are universal. The temptation to wield power over nature is a common one for us in modernity and post-modernity: we want the world to conform to our desires, we want people to change in order to suit us; we want to pervert and distort the natural world to please us. We want to change stones to bread. And why not? After all a shopping mall is much more pleasing to look at than a forest, isn't it? Like Alberich, it is tempting to want to wrest from the earth the things we desire, regardless of the consequences. And yet the venerable scripture of native China, the Tao Te Ching tells us "Do you think you can change the world? If you try, you will destroy it, like too much poking at a frying fish!" Jesus says "no" to this sort of power-over, and unlike Alberich, so should we.

Likewise, grasping power that is not ours over our fellow human beings is no better. Satan promised Jesus the throne of the world. Each of us has been tempted to violence or guile against another person, especially if that person deserves it! Yet, our sacred writings say that this is clearly evil. Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, or anything that is his. No, Wotan and Thor chose rightly. Like Jesus, they held firm to the Staff of the Law, and refused.

Finally, trying to seize power over God is the greatest evil. In biblical terms, this is called sorcery, attempting to coerce divinity by magical or other means. And though most of us might say, "Oh, but I don't know anyone like that," one really only needs to look as far as the nearest mirror. We all, in our times of great need and anguish attempt to bargain and deal with God. We try in our futile and pathetic ways to sway the fate of the universe for our own comfort, and it is almost always a bad idea. Jesus will not tempt God, will not force God's hand. Erda warns that wielding such power will bring ruin, and Wotan, in his wisdom, surrenders it.

What is it within us that desires power? Is it the discomfort of the times we have felt powerless, and an urge to compensate, or perhaps to protect us from ever feeling that way again? What is it in human nature that compels us to reach for the forbidden fruit of power over another?

As I walked the block and a half to my neighborhood's polling place last Tuesday, I found that I faced a great internal dilemma. Oh, the various referendums and propositions were easy enough for me to decide, but when it came to selecting a presidential candidate for last week's primaries, I just felt all weird inside.

You see, I just don't think that anyone who WANTS to be president should be allowed to. Whatever the relative merits that each of the four main-party candidates may possess, they are all professional politicians, masters of the greased palm and back-room dealmaking. The idea that any of them legitimately deserves the office seems ludicrous to me.

Power does weird things to people's heads. Give someone a little power, and they instantly suffer under the bizarre delusion that they have a right to that power. Suddenly the need of one outweighs the needs of many, and the toboggan slide down the slippery slope to damnation has begun. It is the temptation to wield power over other beings that lies at the core of the dark heart of humankind.

In Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy, which borrows much from Wagner's story, it is only the fact that the Dark Lord cannot even conceive of Frodo and Sam's plan that allows them to succeed in their quest. The Dark Lord can not bring himself to believe that anyone would willingly part with the ring of power, let alone destroy it. And that of course, is what Frodo and Sam have set out to do. To destroy the instrument of power-over. To say "no" to that temptation. Like Jesus, like Wotan and Thor, like Frodo and Sam, we are called to do the same, but as we all know, this is often easier said than done.

A few months ago, I told you that I had been nominated by several sources to be made a bishop in my religious community, the Old Catholic succession. Now, the last thing I ever wanted to be was a bishop! But nonetheless, the idea is tempting, because I feel that, by and large, most bishops do a pretty poor job in executing their duties. And I have just enough hubris to think that I might possibly be able to do better. I prayed about the decision, and the answer I received from God was "Yes, but not now." So I have put the bishop issue on the back burner, and in a year, or two years, or five years, when it comes up again, I will pray about it again. But when I told one friend about my decision, someone who had been advocating me for the "promotion," he was astounded, "Now, I KNOW you should be consecrated a bishop," he said, "Because no one has ever said 'no' before."

As I reflect on today's reading, I feel a little glow of warmth inside. Perhaps I passed some kind of test. I was offered the gift of power over my fellow clergy, and I declined. I know there will be other tests tomorrow, and I know that one day God may call me to fulfill my responsibility towards my community in the episcopal role. But I pray that even in a position of power, as Wotan was, as many of you are and have been, I will be able to foreswear it. That, like Jesus, I will be able to empty myself of the power of my office and take the form of a servant, whether I am wearnig a miter or not.

In this church, we have constructed a laboratory for just such experiments with power. Here we have kept the traditional roles of pastor and layperson, but we have turned the power dynamic on its ear. It is very clear that in this community, Richard and I serve YOU. It is very clear who wears the pants in this church: the voting members. It is my belief that God is calling all spiritual communities to consensus power arrangements. After all the scripture says that "The valleys will be exalted and the mountains made low." The promise of America bears this out: the kings have been cast from their thrones, and the people rule through democracy. And in this church, the bishops have been stripped of their power, and it is the laity who rule.

It is tempting to grasp after power. But whether that takes the form of power over the earth, power over other humans, or power over God, it is always wrong. We are often sent into the wilderness where we face grave decisions. That is the human lot in life. But it is up to us whether we will be ministered to by the angels. Let us pray.

Holy and Enduring God, we like to picture you as a great King, yet think it is our own insecurity which compels us to do so. For when you act of your own accord, you have no need of scepters, or crowns, or the trappings of high office. Instead, you manifest in the lowly, the poor, and the forgotten. You speak using the voices of those of no account, and you ask us always, always, to return. Help us to realize that power is not a thing to be grasped. It is a hot stove that we should not touch. For we should not seek the very thing that even you, in your infinite wisdom, disdain. Help us, and save us, through the power the one who knew how to say "no," even Jesus Christ. Amen.*