Temptations

Have you heard the old cliché, “Hurt people hurt people”? Sometimes people are not even aware of the hurt they do to others, or they justify it, brush it off, dismiss it.  Fine and dandy, but when they start to think that they are justified, or even that the people they hurt deserve it, or even worse, that the people they hurt aren’t really, we have a situation that can spiral out of control.  Whether it’s addictions to violent video games like Roblox or sharing toxic claims about immigrants or trans people, or taking pride in insulting people who have a different political perspective than us, it’s easy to go from polite Canadians apologizing to everyone for everything, to becoming a keyboard warrior or someone who cuts people off in traffic and waves the finger at other drivers.  Hurt people hurt people. 

It doesn’t help that we live in a world that glorifies violence.  Dr. Walter Wink talks about the myth of redemptive violence and it’s often the subtle theme of Disney movies.  The princess is captured by an evil person, often a woman who is the opposite of the princess, who is defeated by a brave prince who is willing to fight the dragon or the sea witch or whatever the evil figure is. Violence protects the innocent and maintains their sweetness and goodness because they can’t do it themselves. 

We all like to think of ourselves as the heroes of our own life stories and turn anyone who obstructs us as the villain in our lives.  We can get fixated on what ‘They’ are doing to mess up our lives, or what we can do to get even with “them”.  We don’t realize that in our righteous anger, we are hurting someone else who then sees us as the villains in their own lives.  One psychologist once said, “It’s like the world is in a massive competition to prove who is the biggest victim and it’s always me, and the biggest villain is always the other.  The myth of redemptive violence teaches us to hit back, to seek revenge, to rage and it goes back to the Babylonian creation myth.  It paints humans as being born from violence, when two parent gods conspire together to kill their noisy offspring.  The younger gods get together and kill the father and mother.  From the blood of the murdered gods come all of creation, including humans. Contrast that story of family violence with our creation story which talks about God shaping the world and calling it good.  It’s a profound rebuttal of violence of any kind as it points to humans created in love, not in war. 

Then there’s Jesus, who goes up against the ultimate bad guy, Satan, in the temptations in the desert.  Jesus doesn’t beat Satan to death.  Jesus doesn’t shoot laser beams out of his eyes.  He doesn’t pull out a missile launcher or yell and scream or post scathing insults on Facebook.  Jesus instead calmly quotes scripture at Satan, and refuses Satan’s clever tests.

“Do you want security”, Satan asks, “the power to never go hungry, to turn rocks into food, to turn whatever you have too much of into whatever you have not enough of?” How many of us have bowed to the temptation of taking shortcuts, helping ourselves to things that are easily in reach?  Most of us have never been tempted to shop lift or to steal from a neighbor.  But we all would like quick fixes for our problems, and Satan tempts Jesus to go for the quick fix, the simple solution.  That is the path to addictions, whether it’s bargain shopping at Temu or having more craft supplies than we can ever possibly use.  Accumulate stuff, hoard stuff, save stuff because we fear not having enough.

“Do you want safety”, Satan asks, “the ability to never be hurt by anyone ever again?” How many of us have become fearful of leaving our houses, of trying something new, of being hurt?  We surround ourselves with air bags and security cameras, but they won’t guarantee our safety.  They won’t protect us from being hurt, of sliding on the ice and breaking an arm or twisting a back.  We might try to hide in our bedrooms to avoid any risks, but it is not healthy.  Jesus accepted that part of life is getting hurt, stubbing your toe, hearing an opinion different than your own.

“Do you want control?”  Satan asks, “the ability to fix or save or correct anyone or anything that you think isn’t right?”  Control is a sneaky temptation.  It masquerades as wanting respect or wanting everyone else to measure up to our standards.  It says, “I don’t have to listen to anyone else’s opinions.  I’m right, I know I’m right and that is the end of it.” It leads to judgmentalism and bossiness.  It leads to wanting to be the loudest person in the room, drowning out other people’s opinions.  It says, “I have the right to be angry, rude, loud, and to throw my weight around.” 

Jesus rejected all that.  Jesus focused on God, and the teachings of the prophets that told stories of God’s compassionate generosity to widows and orphans, the sick and the lonely, the oppressed and the poor.  Jesus was determined to chose listening and healing, not bullying and being right or demanding perfection in others.  He rejected the dance of superhero violence even though it would cost him his life.

We are starting Lent, a time of self-reflection as we remember Jesus travelling to Jerusalem where he would be killed.  We talk about giving up chocolate or computer games, but we don’t talk about letting go of our need for control, our need for safety, our need for stuff.  What if this Lent we spent time in prayer for our healing.  Hurt people hurt people. We are all hurt.  But people who choose to ask God for healing will find that healing people heal people.  We are all on the journey to find healing.  May we find through healing through prayer and action and courage.  Amen.