Jesus was Already in the Wilderness

The following sermon was preached by Bishop Anne Edison-Albright at Peace Lutheran Church in Rosendale. It’s based on the texts for the First Sunday in Lent (Year C) which this year was on March 9th, 2025. The gospel text was Luke 4:1-13, the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness for forty days.

Jesus was already in the wilderness.

He went to the wilderness to find his cousin, John, who was preaching, teaching and baptizing people out in the wilderness by the Jordan river. There were other people baptized on the same day as Jesus, and after they were all baptized the clouds parted, and the holy spirit came down to Jesus in the form of a dove. Then there was a voice from heaven, “You are my son, The Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

That’s what happens right before Luke 4:1-13, the Gospel text for the first Sunday in Lent in the Revised Common Lection.  A colleague of mine said an image that’s always stuck with her about this story is imagining that Jesus’ shoulders were still wet from his baptism when he went into the wilderness and was tested by the devil. Further into the wilderness. 

  When you hear this lesson, how do you imagine the wilderness? Like, what’s the very first image that comes to mind. Don’t worry if it’s not an image that aligns with the actual geography of the Jordan river and the desert surrounding it; that really hasn’t been my go-to image of the wilderness for most of my life, either. I tend to think of the woods behind the house my grandma and grandpa built in Bennett Valley, in Northwest Wisconsin, and how it felt when I was a kid going back there to pick wild black raspberries.

My working definition of wilderness is a place where the path you’re traveling on is difficult or unclear. The wilderness can be a place where you can hear or feel God’s presence in a way you wouldn’t, normally. 

I did get to go see the Biblical wilderness that Jesus went to after he was baptized; I went a couple of years ago to visit with Palestinian Lutherans 

who are part of The Evangelical Lutheran Church in Jordan and the Holy Land. Our first guide, Hani, is a Palestinian Christian and Bible scholar. Because Palestinians live with significant travel restrictions, he wasn’t able to travel with us to Jordan to be our guide for Jesus’ baptismal site, and for the vast desert wilderness that surrounds that place. But when we were with Hani, we visited Augusta Victoria, which is a Lutheran hospital, cancer treatment and dialysis center–the only place where Palestinians in the Holy Land are able to receive cancer treatment and dialysis.  

Before we went into the hospital, Hani had us stop there, up on the Mount of Olives, and read this Gospel text. Then he asked us to look out and notice: in the Holy Land, the wilderness is never very far away. Right next to very green, populated spaces–even right next to Jerusalem–you can find those wild spaces where paths are uncertain. 

After praying together, our group turned around and went into the hospital.

We were there to be witnesses to the important work and ministry of Augusta Victoria, but it also felt like we were intruding, our big group shuffling in and out rooms where people were receiving chemotherapy and dialysis treatments. For any of you who have been through treatments like that yourself, or gone through it with someone you love, you know: that’s a kind of wilderness, too. It can feel isolating, with unclear paths that not everyone is willing or able to travel with you. Sometimes, God feels very far away, and other times, closer than ever. 

Whenever I read this text about Jesus being tested in the wilderness, I wonder about the fact that it was the Spirit that led him there. The Holy Spirit fills Jesus at his baptism, and then leads him in the wilderness. 

It doesn’t say that the Spirit led Jesus there in order to be tested, but we know that the Spirit is with Jesus, and travels with him in the wilderness. He’s not alone. For 40 days, Jesus fasts.  And then the devil shows up, and the devil tests Jesus.

 When I was younger this exchange between Jesus and the devil 

always reminded me of stories where a hero faces a series of riddles posed by a magical creature. Through cleverness and ingenuity, the hero solves the riddles, passes the test, and wins the day. But there’s more going on here.  For Jesus, the son of God, going into the wilderness and being tested by the devil, isn’t just about proving himself or solving riddles. 

It’s another way for him to be who he is: Immanuel, God with Us,

God choosing to enter fully into this world, and this life, including the wilderness and testing. 

This past weekend a group of pastors and leaders from ELCA and Episcopal Church-USA congregations in Valders and Manitowoc got together to give people from Our Savior’s in Denmark a chance to meet people from neighboring congregations, and ask questions or share concerns they have in a space outside their church building. Our Savior’s is in the midst of a disaffiliation process; the second vote is scheduled for May 4. Our gathering on Saturday is one I’ll remember and cherish and I’m grateful for everyone who took part in it; it is truly remarkable what the Spirit does when we come together, dwell in the Word, and engage with each other as co-workers in the Gospel. 

Noticing the verse from the end of this Gospel lesson that reads: When the devil had finished every test; one of the lay leaders at the gathering said: “I think that means that Jesus faced every test that we face.” All I could say was, “YES!” That sounds like something Jesus would do for us, something that Jesus would go through in order to share fully in this life and this world with us. Jesus would be tested so that we can be sure we’re never alone; we always know that God is with us and has been there and experienced what we’re going through, no matter what wilderness we might find ourselves in. 

That might be why the wilderness can sometimes be a place where we experience God’s presence most profoundly. Whether that’s a literal wilderness, or a time or situation in life where the path ahead is challenging or unclear. 

There’s a blessing by the Methodist writer, Jan Richardson, that invites us to feel the water of baptism on shoulders when we’re in, or about to be in, a wilderness time. It’s a way to remember that no one, not even Jesus, goes into that wilderness alone–the Holy Spirit is fully present there, too.

Jesus was already in the wilderness. And before he was filled with the Spirit and led even farther in, into wilderness where the path wasn’t always clear and hunger and tests were waiting, Jesus heard this: 

“You are my son, The Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

BELOVED IS WHERE WE BEGIN
by Jan Richardson

If you would enter

into the wilderness,

do not begin

without a blessing.

Do not leave

without hearing

who you are:

Beloved,

named by the One

who has traveled this path

before you.

Do not go

without letting it echo

in your ears,

and if you find

it is hard

to let it into your heart,

do not despair.

That is what

this journey is for.

I cannot promise

this blessing will free you

from danger,

from fear,

from hunger

or thirst,

from the scorching

of sun

or the fall

of the night.

But I can tell you

that on this path

there will be help.

I can tell you

that on this way

there will be rest.

I can tell you

that you will know

the strange graces

that come to our aid

only on a road

such as this,

that fly to meet us

bearing comfort

and strength,

that come alongside us

for no other cause

than to lean themselves

toward our ear

and with their

curious insistence

whisper our name:

Beloved.

Beloved.

Beloved. 

Amen.