‘Lent’s Strange Harvest’ a sermon for the first Sunday of Lent

Deut. 26.1-11; Luke 4.1-13

On Wednesday we celebrated, if that’s the right word, Ash Wednesday, which means today is the first Sunday of Lent. So I want to say something about Lent this morning, but, as odd as it seems at the beginning of spring, I have to say something about harvest first.

Hearing our readings you may have wondered what the old testament reading was all about, which gave us a moment from Deuteronomy. It’s a point when Moses, looking forward to the future harvest that the Israelites would enjoy in the promised land, told the people what they should do. When the crops are being gathered in, the first thing that the Jewish people are told to do is to take a basket of the best stuff, go to the place the Lord has chosen for his house, and to offer it to the priest on duty there saying: ‘A wandering Aramean was my ancestor… so now I bring the first of the fruits of the ground that you, O Lord, have given me.’

Most of us don’t do much harvesting these days but I’m told that it’s hard work. Sitting on a combine harvester day after day, sun-up to sun-down, waiting for breaks in the weather when it’s been a particularly British summer, I can only imagine that it is exhausting.

Tracking back a few thousand years to the time of Moses we have to take out the combine harvester, which probably means that the work was even more exhausting, even more taxing on the whole community. So I wonder what your instinct might be when the crops begin to fill the barn? It might be to sit down after the hard work of gathering the harvest and to have a feast, it might be to congratulate yourself about how well you’ve done or how much you’ve got. But Moses tells the Jewish people that that is the second thing they should do. First he tells them to do something that I suspect he knows will go against their instincts, to take the first fruits of the harvest back to God.

‘A wandering Aramean was my ancestor…’ Moses is saying something important here. When all the crops are gathered in and the barn door is closed and the money is in the bank you have to stop and remember where it all came from.

It’s important not to misread this passage- God doesn’t want the first fruits of the harvest because he needs them to feel important, he’s not looking for a ‘well-done’ because he got the barley to do its thing for another year. A God who needed an annual ego boost probably wouldn’t be worth the effort.

Rather Moses is saying something more subtle and more important about wealth and power. Moses is telling they people that as great as wealth and power feel, fundamentally they are illusory. ‘A wandering Aramean was my ancestor.’ When the crops are gathered in, remember that things have not always been like this.

When the harvest is good remember that next year it night fail. If you enjoy your health and your fortune remember that they might not stick around. Remember, remember, remember, the only thing that is truly reliable is God.

This is why we have to think about harvest in spring, and the book of Deuteronomy at the beginning of Lent. Because when Jesus went for 40 days into the wilderness to do battle with the devil he did not go alone. He went, as it were, with Moses and the whole people of Israel whose spent 40 years learning to depend on God and not being very good at it. We might note that even Moses and Aaron failed in their own ways, couldn’t quite trust God to provide, and died in sight of the promised land on Mount Nebo, close, almost close enough to touch it, but not quite there.  

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil.

‘If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become… bread.’ Jesus answered, ‘One does not live on bread alone.’

‘If you will worship me, all this will be yours’. Jesus answered, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only Him.’

‘If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here.’ Jesus answered, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’

Jesus remembers. He remembers three times that plenty and power and position are fake news, and the only thing that is truly reliable is God. The devil’s power is shown to be an illusion, and like any illusion, when it is exposed, it and the devil drift away. When we see through the illusions of life the work of our salvation has begun.

You might recall that John’s Gospel does not tell this 40-day temptation story, but that’s not because he doesn’t like point it makes but because he puts it somewhere else. When Jesus stands silent before Pilate at his trial, Pilate says to him, ‘do you refuse to speak to me? Do you not know that I have authority to release you and authority to crucify you?’ Jesus answered him, ‘You would have no authority over me if it were not given you from above.’ Pilate’s power is like that of the devil, it is an illusion blown away by the truth that is Jesus.

So that’s where we are in Lent. Learning what we can trust, once again. Via the Israelite’s harvest and Jesus’ temptation we are called to remember, for our own forty days, that the only thing that is truly reliable is God. Not our money, not our intellect, not even our geopolitical alliances. During Lent we are called to look hard inside ourselves and see what things have control over us, what things we rely on, what illusions we particularly enjoy, and to know that God’s love is stronger and more reliable than whatever they are.

It takes disciplined prayer to do this. We probably need to spend some time in silence with God every day, even if it’s just a couple of minutes. The habit will take hold across 40 days, and the Holy Spirit might draw you deeper into the reality of God. If you don’t pray daily now then try it. It is the most important thing you can do this Lent. It will be hard, and there will be every reason under the sun not to do it. The temptations not to bother will be strong. The devil hates faithful prayer because it drowns him out. And whatever you do to strengthen your relationship with God and his Son Jesus Christ this Lent please know that I will be kneeling every day in that pew, praying for you to achieve it.

 I’m going to finish by reading a poem. It’s by Malcolm Guite and imagines the devil’s dialogue with Jesus. It’s called All the Kingdoms of the World.

‘So here’s the deal and this is what you get:

The penthouse suite with world-commanding views,

The banker’s bonus and the private jet

Control and ownership of all the news

An ‘in’ to that exclusive one percent,

Who know the score, who really run the show

With in-ter-est on every penny lent

And sweet-en-ers for cronies in the know.

A straight arrangement bet-ween me and you

No hell below or heaven high above

You just admit it, and give me my due

And wake up from this foolish dream of love…’

But Jesus laughed, ‘You are not what you seem.

Love is the waking life, you are the dream.’

May we all wake up to the reality of God’s love for us this Lent. Amen.