Community Church Sermons

Year A

March 9, 2014

The First Sunday in Lent

Sword Drill

Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7 / Matthew 4:1-11

Rev. Rhonda A. Blevins

Associate Pastor

Here we are on the first Sunday of Lent. The season of reflection. The time of year when we take inventory of our lives and hit the “reset” button to get lives more aligned with God’s desire for us. One tradition during the 40 days of Lent is to fast. . .to “give something up” for Lent. How many of you have “given something up” for Lent? Me? I’ve decided to give up pregnancy for Lent. Anyone else with me there?

On the first Sunday of Lent, the lectionary always brings us back to the wilderness temptations of Jesus and his 40 day fast—this year from the Gospel of Matthew. The tempter approached Jesus three times. . .three different ways.

· The first temptation was the most subtle: “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.” Jesus hadn’t eaten for 40 days, and there was no one around. No one would ever have to know. Besides, if he could turn stones into bread, he could feed the world. Maybe he could even end hunger. People everywhere would follow him. “Tell these stones to become bread.”

· “No? Then throw yourself down off this temple.” Wow, now that would be spectacular. If he could do that, just think how amazed the people would be. People everywhere would follow him, and think of all the good he could do then! “Throw yourself down from this temple, Jesus, if you are the son of God.”

· “No? Then look out. All the kingdoms of this world can be yours if you will just worship me.” No one would have to know he had given his allegiance over to Satan. And all power, all control, all sovereignty would be his. He would want for nothing. People everywhere would follow him. “It’s all yours, just bow down and worship me.”

Then earlier we heard the story of Adam and Eve and their great temptation. They could eat from any tree in the garden—any tree—except one. Then the tempter came along: “C’mon, you won’t die. God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God.”

A few weeks ago when my family all got home from church, I asked my six-year-old what he had studied that day. Our Sunday school teachers and children’s church workers do such a fine job—and that day he had studied the story of Adam and Eve in the garden. “There was a man and a woman in a garden,” he proceeded to tell me. “And God told them not to eat from this one tree. Then the servant came along and got them to eat it,” he said, incredulous that they would disobey God like that. Of course I grinned and said, “You mean the serpent got them to eat it, right?” “Oh no, it was the servant.” (Kid’s got no respect for my training, obviously!)

Just like my six-year-old, most of us remain confused when it comes to the tempter. That’s the tempter’s game, you know? Temptation usually comes to us in disguise—in sneaky, subtle ways. So maybe we won’t murder those neighbors we don’t like, but we will certainly talk about them. So maybe we don’t set forest fires, but we forget to recycle or we use more than our share of the earth’s resources. Temptation is subtle, and we are masters at justifying our subtle trespasses against God and God’s creation. Evil never comes to us in red pajamas wielding a pitchfork. The most dangerous evil is attractive and coy.

Maryetta Anschutz says it like this: “Temptation comes to us in moments when we look at others and feel insecure about not having enough. Temptation comes in judgments we make about strangers or friends who make choices we do not understand. Temptation rules us, making us able to look away from those in need and to live our lives unaffected by poverty, hunger, and disease. Temptation rages in moments when we allow our temper to define our lives or when addiction to wealth, power, influence over others, vanity, or an inordinate need for control defines who we are. Temptation wins when we engage in the justification of little lies, small sins: a racist joke, a questionable business practice for the greater good, a criticism of a spouse or partner when he or she is not around. Temptation wins when we get so caught up in the trappings of life that we lose sight of life itself. These are the faceless moments of evil that, while mundane, lurk in the recesses of our lives and our souls^.”[1]

So we have two stories: Adam & Eve in the garden, and Jesus in the wilderness. Why did Adam & Eve yield to temptation, and how did Jesus resist it? It boils down to trust. Jesus trusted God completely, but with Adam & Eve, their trust in God faltered.

· So one story begins with mistrust—the other with trust.

· One story is marked by disobedience—the other with obedience.

· One story results in estrangement—the other with relationship.

So how did he do it? How did Jesus resist temptation? How was he able to stand strong mentally, though physically he was the weakest he had ever been? If you go back to the story, think about how he responded each time the tempter presented a new temptation. What did he say? He quoted scripture. He had so filled his mind with the word of God that when temptation came, he was able to pull out the word of God and wield it like a sword—defeating the tempter with the words of Holy Scripture.

I grew up Southern Baptist, and one of the things Southern Baptists do quite well is teach their children the Bible. One of the ways they teach children the Bible is through “sword drill” or “Bible drill.” The Bible is likened to a sword, and this symbolism is taken from a beautiful passage of scripture from Ephesians 6:10-17:

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Did you notice that the sword—the word of God—was the only weapon named? The rest of God’s armor was defensive.

So I participated in sword drill for a while. I want to show you how a sword drill works. (Get a couple of “volunteers.”) You hold your Bible down by your side in your right hand, binding down. That’s “attention.” When I say, “Present Swords,” hold your Bible in front of you in your right hand, and place your left hand on top. When I name a book of the Bible, quickly find that book, place your right index finger there, and step forward, indicating you’ve found it. If I call on you, you’ll name the book before that book, that book, then the book following the one I’ve named. (For instance, if I say “Mark,” you’ll say, “Matthew, Mark, Luke.” Are you ready? Attention! Present swords! Habakkuk. Charge!

So that’s how a sword drill goes. I was terrible at sword drill. The idea, though, is to get kids to memorize scripture so that their minds are filled with Godly truth. Just like that Bible verse just read from Philippians 4:8-9:

“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

This is why we do church, you know. The spiritual discipline of gathering with the saints for worship, little by little, fills our minds with the stuff of God.

While I was out on maternity leave, I had a lot of time to sit around and hold my new little one, and binge watch television. I enjoy watching TV. To me it’s relaxing. You can turn your mind off and just go numb. That was fun for a while, but I found myself missing the gathering with the saints. You may have noticed that I started coming back to church a month or so before my maternity leave was over! I missed filling my mind with spiritual things. I missed doing that in community. We do church so that Sunday by Sunday, little by little, we are prepared to meet those “faceless moments of evil” head-on. We do church on Sunday so that on Monday we can stand strong even in weakness.

There’s a story about an old preacher and his wife. One day the old lady said to her husband, “You know, we’ve been married 50 years. I figure I’ve heard you preach every Sunday for 50 years, and that’s 2,600 sermons. And I can’t remember a single one.” The old preacher thought for a moment and he said, “Yes, we’ve been married 50 years. You’ve made me three meals a day for 50 years, and that’s 54,750 meals. I can’t remember a single menu. But each one provided the nourishment I needed.”

Welcome to the season of Lent. The chance for us to push the reset button and better align our lives with God’s desire for us. Whatever Lenten practice you observe—maybe you’ve given something up for Lent—maybe you’re taking up a spiritual practice for Lent—whatever you do, commit to filling your mind with the things of God. Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. If you do that, temptation will lose its sway over you, and you shall be able to stand strong all the days of your life.

And one final word. Don’t forget what Paul Harvey calls, “the rest of the story.” You caught the end of the story, right? The conclusion to Jesus’ wilderness temptations? Angels came and attended him. Yes, God took care of him in his time of need. And yes, God will take care of you.

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[1] Maryetta Anschuta, “Matthew 4:1-11: Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Year A, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, eds (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 48.