Lent / Clearing
by Josh VonGunten
After beginning the season of Lent by embracing our mortality, like Jesus, we’re invited to follow the Spirit into the wild. The wilderness (or desert) is a context for engaging solitude, silence, and fasting. A place where the quiet and lack of distraction helps us to better see ourselves as we really are. What happens in this space, and text (Matthew 4:1-11), is surprisingly multi-faceted. Who knew so much discovery and awe was available in contexts we tend to label as boring in ordinary time?
At the point in which Jesus grows weak from hunger, the tempter (the voice of evil) engages him with a series of difficult decisions. It is particularly how two of these decisions or temptations are framed, that I’d like to focus on in this post. The carrot at the end of the stick is important, but there’s something quite insightful about how the temptation is constructed. I’m drawn to wonder about the specific impact of living in a world which asks us to prove ourselves.
The text reads like this, “When the evil snake saw that Jesus was weak and hungry, he came to him and whispered in his ear. Are you the Son of the Great Spirit? he hissed. Prove it by turning these stones into frybread” (Matt. 4:3, First Nations Version). The following temptation adheres to the same pattern, Jesus is invited to prove himself by doing something spectacular. There are two things at work here: On one hand there is something very enticing being offered by the tempter. On the other, there’s a vicious and manipulative way of offering it which calls Jesus to question his identity. Evil is always looking for leverage and it seems our sense of identity—how we and others think of us—is prone to exploitation.
While I’ve never seen a talking snake, in my experience, the pressure to prove oneself is highly relatable. The voice of evil is a shape shifter. It shows up in the contexts of pop culture, business, sports, and academics, in the voices (heard aloud or in our heads) tempting us to prove we are worthy of belonging. We are bombarded with advertising which artfully suggests we can prove ourselves by buying things. We are inspired by the myths and legends of heroes to demonstrate our worth by doing something big. We are drawn into the impossibility of appearing on top of all aspects of life, which for mothers of young children, is just crazy. Online, the cumulative effect of this pressure can be crushing to our spirits when it comes highly distilled and processed into the glow and flow of social media. Who hasn’t been tempted to post something online in hopes of curating a certain image?
The season of Lent is as good a time as I know to get curious and a little more aware of how we experience the lure to prove ourselves. In following Jesus into the wild, we’re bound to face questions like: Who do you think you are? What have you done? How do you compare with others? It’s in kindly unmasking the source and energy behind these questions that we begin to realize the games we’ve been playing. It’s in having compassion for ourselves in recognizing the ways we’ve been played that we begin to see and feel an alternative way of being in the world. All of this starts by simply gaining awareness, by showing up for a slow beautiful sunrise that dawns through silence, prayer, and contemplation.
Below is a poem, a practice, and a prayer. The content below will probably be most helpful if you sit with it and take it in reflectively and leisurely over several passes.
Poem:
A Clearing by Martha Postlethwaite
Do not try to save
the whole world
or do anything grandiose.
Instead, create
a clearing
in the dense forest
of your life
and wait there
patiently,
until the song
that is your life
falls into your own cupped hands
and you recognize and greet it.
Only then will you know
how to give yourself to this world
so worthy of rescue.
Practice:
The first part is a journaling prompt for “creating a clearing,” and for simply gaining awareness. The point is to wonder and notice without judgement.
Take some moments to breath deep and sit with your life experience. How do you relate with or notice the pressure to prove yourself however subtle or obvious? Make some notes on when and where you’ve felt a need or pressure to demonstrate your worth. Does a specific story or season come to mind?
Next, hold what you’ve written with compassion and understanding. Do some writing on why, in retrospect, it makes perfect sense that you felt a need or pressure to prove yourself. Sit with what has surfaced like you would a friend, offering understanding for what has taken place.
Lastly, speak the blessing below over your life. If possible, speak it out loud.
You are not what you do, although you do a lot. You are not what you have collected in terms of friendships and connections, although you might have many. You are not the popularity that you have received. You are not the success of your work. You are not what people say about you, whether they speak well or whether they speak poorly about you. All these things that keep you quite busy, quite occupied, and often quite preoccupied are not telling the truth about who you are. I am here to remind you in the name of God that you are the Beloved Daughter / Son of God, and that God says to you, “I have called you from all eternity and you are engraved from all eternity in the palms of my hands. You are mine. You belong to me, and I love you with an everlasting love.” (Henri Nouwen)
Prayer:
God, thank you for your everlasting love. Thank you that you never ask me to prove myself or make myself valuable to you or others. It is good to be your son / daughter. Teach me to rest in you and to enjoy my identity as your son / daughter. Jesus, help me to follow your lead in seeing through the voice of temptation. Help me today to give the unconditional love you have given me to others. Amen.
—Josh VonGunten