Sermon transcript:
When we picture Lent, joy might not be the first word that comes to mind. We often think of Lent as solemn, quiet, disciplined — a time for fasting, repentance, and restraint. Yet, here at the beginning of our Lenten journey, the story of Jesus’ temptation invites us not only into honest struggle but also into unexpected joy — the joy of freedom, the joy of clarity, the joy that comes when we name and resist the forces that distort God’s love.
Jesus has just been baptized. The heavens opened, the Spirit descended, and a voice declared, “You are my beloved.” It is from that belovedness — not from guilt or shame — that Jesus is led into the wilderness. That’s important. The wilderness is not punishment. It’s a place of formation. A place of truth-telling. A place where we learn what kind of people we want to be.
And in that space of testing, Jesus resists three temptations that remain strikingly relevant today: the temptation of comfort over justice, of domination over service, and of spectacle over faithfulness. Each temptation whispers, “Choose the easy path. Choose the one that benefits you, even if it harms others.” But Jesus answers each whisper with the wisdom of scripture — with the love that frees instead of the temptation that enslaves.
Lent offers us that same space: to notice where we are tempted by the power structures of our world, where we collude with systems that privilege some and harm others. Racism, too, is a wilderness of temptation — a place where deep forces test our allegiance to God’s vision of justice and beloved community. It tempts us with myths of superiority, with silence masked as peace, with comfort that depends on someone else’s struggle.
But this is where the joy comes in — not joy as cheap optimism, but joy as resistance. Joy that says: there is life beyond the wilderness. Think of Minneapolis. There is freedom in refusing to be ruled by fear or prejudice. We can delight in the Spirit’s work in us and among us — shaping us into people who not only renounce sin but join God’s work of renewal.
When our anti-racism journey seems too long — when the conversations get uncomfortable or the changes feel slow — we can remember Jesus in the wilderness. He didn’t go there alone. The Spirit went with him, and that same Spirit is with us. Each act of truth-telling, each apology made and accepted, each policy
rewritten, each barrier broken down — these are manifestations of God’s joy, breaking through the wilderness like streams in dry land.
So as we begin Lent, may we fast from fear and feast on courage. May we turn from indifference and return to love. May we resist every temptation that tempts us to forget who we are: beloved children of God, called to set one another free.
And may that freedom be filled — even here, even now — with joy.
Rev. Joe Gaspar