People of the Valley” – Luke 4:1-13 (Year C, Lent 1)

“Jesus walked that lonesome valley… had to walk it by himself. Nobody else could walk it for him… had to walk it by himself.”

This old African-American spiritual powerfully captures the essence of today’s reading from the Gospel of Luke. Jesus had just been baptized in the River Jordan. The Holy Spirit descended upon him like a dove, and a voice from heaven declared, “You are my Son, whom I love; with you, I am well pleased.”

What a moment of divine affirmation! A spiritual high of all highs—a life-changing encounter with the living God. I remember my mother describing her baptism as a twelve-year-old girl, how God became real to her in that instant, drawing her as close as one can get. Many of you have had such encounters, haven’t you? And aren’t they wonderful?

You’ve been to the mountaintop, and like Martin Luther King Jr. described, you’ve glimpsed the glory of God.

Which is why it’s so striking what happens next to Jesus.

I recently read about a man who lost everything and ended up living on the streets. For years, he was consumed by addiction, his daily prayer a plea for another fix. But then he found salvation. A street preacher’s words pierced his soul, and he had a “come to Jesus” moment. That very night, he was baptized in the river, experiencing the cleansing power of the Holy Spirit. And from that moment, his life transformed—he left the streets, overcame his addictions, found love, built a family, and settled into a good life.

That’s how faith is supposed to work, isn’t it?

Come to God and be made whole. Come to God and be blessed. Come to God and have your problems solved.

But that’s not how it happened with Jesus.

Jesus met God at the Jordan River, but instead of stepping into an easy life, the Spirit drove him into the wilderness, where life became harder than ever. He fasted for forty days, hungry, vulnerable, and tempted by the devil.

“Jesus walked that lonesome valley…”

From the heights of spiritual ecstasy to the depths of temptation and struggle. You’d think the script would be different. Shouldn’t Jesus have left the Jordan, started a thriving ministry, written a bestselling book on spiritual fulfillment, maybe built a powerful movement? After all, that’s how modern testimonies often sound—“I was lost, but now I’m found, and my life is thriving because of it!”

But not many people testify the opposite:

“I found God, and then my life got harder. I ended up struggling more than ever, wandering in a wilderness of doubt and pain.”

Yet, that was Jesus’ experience. And if we’re honest, it’s ours too.

Most of life isn’t lived on mountaintops. It’s lived in the valleys.

I’ve known more unanswered prayers than answered ones. I’ve faced struggles that no Bible verse could instantly fix. I’ve lived through more valleys than mountaintops.

Our family was on the mountaintop when our daughter and son-in-law shared the joyous news of their first pregnancy. Then, in an instant, we were in the valley. A fatal defect was diagnosed. At 20 weeks, they delivered their stillborn son—a perfect little boy who looked just like his father. From joy to heartbreak in a moment.

I know many of you have walked similar valleys. You’ve shared your stories, and they have reminded us that we are not alone. The valley is a place of grief, loss, and struggle. But it is also where Jesus meets us.

Why was Jesus sent into the valley?

Because that’s where we live.

And we need him. We need a Guide, a Friend, a Savior who walks with us, bringing help, a way of life, and a hope that reaches beyond the grave.

But there’s more. Jesus doesn’t just meet us in the valley—he sends us from it.

In the valley, we find our calling. Those on mountaintops may not need help, but those in the valley do. We need Jesus. And we need each other.

I once visited the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, housed in the Lorraine Motel where Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated. Walking through history, I saw how individuals—Nat Turner, Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth, Frederick Douglass, and countless others—stood up against injustice. By the time I reached the images of the March on Washington, I saw a movement, thousands hand in hand, singing, “We Shall Overcome.”

It is in the valley where we recognize our need for one another. Whether addressing a great social issue like racism or a personal struggle like addiction, we are called to walk with and lift each other.

And that is what the church is meant to be.

People struggling in the valley don’t need a church that judges them, suggesting their hardships are due to a lack of faith. Jesus himself walked the valley—who are we to question faith because of suffering? They also don’t need a church preaching success as proof of God’s favor. That would exclude countless saints who sacrificed comfort for justice, who gave their lives for something greater than personal gain.

The people of the valley don’t need condemnation. They don’t need prosperity theology. They need a refuge—a church whose doors are open wide, whose love is boundless, and whose faith is anchored in this reality:

“Jesus walked this lonesome valley…”

As we enter the season of Lent, I invite you to open your life to Jesus, who walks with you in love. I invite you to discover your ministry—because people need you. And I invite us all to work toward being a church of the valley, not just of the mountain.

For we, too, are called to walk this lonesome valley… together.