Being Beloved

First Sunday of Lent, Year A, 2017

The Rev'd Richard Smith, Ph.D.

There’s a pretty basic question at play in today’s gospel. It’s about our identity, about who we are, and, more specifically, what it means concretely to be God's beloved daughters and sons.

If you listen to the prosperity gospel preachers, the ones most welcomed these days at the White House, you’ll get one set of answers: that being God’s beloved child means God will bless you not just with eternal salvation but with material wealth here on earth.

Today’s gospel passage suggests otherwise. Take a look.

This passage comes immediately after Jesus has been baptized by John in the Jordan River. You remember that scene when the heavens opened, Jesus saw a dove rest on him, and heard the voice from heaven, "This is my Son, the beloved, in whom I am well pleased."

Awesome words, but what does it mean concretely to be the Beloved Son in whom God is well pleased?

Jesus needs to find out, so the Spirit leads him into the desert for a retreat. He fasts for forty days and nights, and, at the end, he is starving and exhausted--which is when the tempter arrives, and throws three temptations at him.

Each temptation begins by calling into question whether Jesus really is the beloved child of God.

For example, in the first temptation, notice the "IF": “IF you are the Son of God”, and IF God really does love you, then command these stones to become loaves of bread.

The implication is that being God's beloved son means never going hungry, means always being full. This fullness will be supplied by supernatural means. The laws of planting and harvesting will be suspended. It’s a prosperity gospel message.

But Jesus rejects this idea that being loved by God means you will always be filled. Instead, he remembers the word he heard that day in the Jordan. That word was "Beloved". Nothing can change the reality and power of that word.

At times he may be full and at other times hungry, but the word remains true in either case. Hungry or not, Jesus will still be the Beloved Child of God.

In the second temptation, the tempter implies that IF you really are God's beloved child, you will always be physically safe. You can leap from the very top of the temple. The laws of gravity will be suspended for you. Angels will break your fall. You won't even injure your foot.

But Jesus doesn’t buy this understanding of God's loving care. You do not show that you are God’s beloved child by remaining physically safe.

In the course of Jesus' life, there will be times when he is not safe. He will get hurt--emotially, physically, spiritually--but even then the word he heard on the day of his baptism will still be true: He will still be God’s beloved child.

And in the third temptation, the tempter tells Jesus that if he worships the evil one and adopts his ways, he will have control over all the kingdoms of this world.

But Jesus is a Jew of the first commandment. He worships only "the Lord your God". He refuses to worship the evil one and live according to the those values. That means he will not have political power.

But although, from a political point of view, Jesus will be powerless, the word he heard that day in the Jordan will remain true: He will still be God's beloved child.

So Jesus is very clear about who he is. "I am God's beloved child, and there will be moments when I am hungry; moments of physical, emotional, spiritual pain; moments when I am powerless and helpless.

But through it all, I will still be God's beloved child.

There’s a story you may remember from school about one of the West’s other great teachers who lived many years ago in Greece, a man named Socrates.* One day, his fellow citizens accused him of heresy and of corrupting the youth of Athens. They gave him the death sentence--he would be executed by drinking a cup of hemlock.

Socrates accepted the judgment of the court, gave an impressive speech about the meaning of life and death, found no cause for fear; drank the poison and died.

Jesus‐‐‐how different his story was, how different his way of being human! When Jesus came to his own death, he was almost hysterical with terror and fear; looked for comfort from friends and an escape from death and found neither; finally got control over himself and accepted his death in silence and lonely isolation.

The difference between Socrates and Jesus could not be more clear.

Jesus was a more profoundly weak and vulnerable man than Socrates. Socrates never wept over Athens as Jesus once did over Jerusalem. Socrates never expressed sorrow and pain at the betrayal of friends. He was never over‐extended, he was convinced that the just man could never suffer genuine hurt. Socrates was calm, poised, and aloof--a philosopher.

By contrast, Jesus took his place among the poor, the outcasts, those whose lives do not follow the script of the prosperity gospel--like those in today’s homeless encampments, like the children in our neighborhood who go to sleep each night in fear that their parents will be snatched from them in the middle of the night by Immigration.

Jesus was, you might say, a more profoundly weak and vulnerable man than Socrates. This allowed him to feel with us the human condition, including the human struggle and darkness and anguish that calls out for justice, redemption, salvation.

Jesus is very clear about who he is, and in today’s gospel this clarity governs his response to each of the temptations the devil throws at him.

I remember the story of Martin Luther, the great reformer. Whenever he was feeling discouraged or confused or lacking confidence, he would do some self-talk, he would say: “Martin, Martin, you are baptized!” This remembrance of his own deepest identity--that he was a beloved child of God--gave him a renewed strength and clarity to move through the confusion and to discern the path he needed to take.

While Jesus may have been conscious of his true identity in a clear and immediate way, most of us need a little spiritual work to reach this clarity. Which is why we do Lent. It’s why we take on the ancient practices of extra prayer, some fasting, and giving alms.

So now, at the beginning of our Lenten journey, a blessing for you. It’s one I included in this week’s parish email. I like it so much, I want to use it to conclude this sermon.

Beloved Is Where We Begin-- by Jan Richardson
from Circle of Grace 

If you would enter
into the wilderness,
do not begin
without a blessing.
Do not leave
without hearing
who you are:
Beloved,
named by the One
who has traveled this path
before you.
Do not go
without letting it echo
in your ears,
and if you find
it is hard
to let it into your heart,
do not despair.
That is what
this journey is for.
I cannot promise
this blessing will free you
from danger,
from fear,
from hunger
or thirst,
from the scorching
of sun
or the fall
of the night.
But I can tell you
that on this path
there will be help.
I can tell you
that on this way
there will be rest.
I can tell you
that you will know
the strange graces
that come to our aid
only on a road
such as this,
that fly to meet us
bearing comfort
and strength,
that come alongside us
for no other cause
than to lean themselves
toward our ear
and with their
curious insistence
whisper our name:
Beloved.
Beloved.
Beloved.

* Grateful to Michael J. Buckley for his discussion of the contrast between Jesus and Socrates.