Farewell, Veruca--February 27, 2023

Farewell, Veruca--February 27, 2023

"Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished.  The tempter came and said to him, 'If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.' But he answered, 'It is written, One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God'." [Matthew 4:1-4]

In an era of endless consumption, you don't even notice how arrogant it is to assume that you can always just get...more.

And in a culture of instant-order, overnight delivery online shopping, all-you-can-eat buffets, and super-sizable fast food, it is a subversive act to choose to say "No" to the next prompt that says, "Get it now!" 

It is downright revolutionary to practice contentment with enough, and almost unthinkable to see the choice to have, buy, and consume less as an intentional act faith-inspired love.

And of course... that's exactly what Jesus does.

For whatever else is going on in this scene of Jesus' temptation in the wilderness [and there's a LOT, which defies an exhaustive summary in a daily devotion], this exchange in the story has something to tell us about the way Jesus' kind of love chooses a humble "enough" over an arrogant "more."  Jesus' refuses to do a little parlor trick of a miracle when the Tempter prods him to turn stones into bread to satisfy his own hunger.  And it's not because bread is sinful... or that it's wrong to eat if you are hungry... or even that it's somehow against the rules to do a miracle to produce more food [Jesus will obviously do that in time with five loaves, two fish, and a crowd of thousands waiting for lunch].  But Jesus sees that part of the Tempter's game is to be unsatisfied with God's economy of "enough-ness," and to pursue the endless quest of acquisition and avarice.  And it's a potent temptation exactly because it doesn't look sinful--there's nothing wrong with eating, after all.

No, of course there's not.  The hitch, though, is the notion that Jesus should use his divine power and privilege for himself and his own comfort while others are starving and suffering.  The temptation is to get Jesus to say, "Why shouldn't I have whatever I want, whenever I want it?  It's in my power to do--I should always get more, just for the sake of more!"  The temptation is to try to get Jesus to forget how deeply arrogant and self-centered it is only to want more, without concern for whether everybody else gets to eat.  

The Tempter is trying to get Jesus to become a sort of divine Veruca Salt from the classic Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, whose family wealth has spoiled her into wanting everything she sees ["I want the world... I want the whole world..." she sings in the movie version that is permanently ingrained in my memory], and she doesn't see how arrogant and self-absorbed she is.  From her vantage point, she has the "right" to more because she has the means to get more--there's no reason she shouldn't use her [parents'] money to fulfill her every whim.  She doesn't realize how the game of endless consumption ruins our ability to truly love.  Jesus, by contrast, knows how lethal it is to love when you accept the logic of, "I have the means, so why shouldn't I get more?"  And Jesus knows that God has always intended something different for the people of God--a life of "enough-ness" that knows how to say "No" to more than we really need.

See, part of what's going on in this whole scene in the wilderness is a sort of second-run of ancient Israel's wandering in the wilderness.  Back in the early days of the story the Israelites, they recalled a time when a generation of newly-freed, formerly-enslaved people were wandering for forty years and dependent on God's provision.  God sent manna as bread every day, and quails for meat, and water as they needed it , too.  But it came with the instruction: take what you need, but do not hoard.  Do not pursue more-for-the-sake-of-more, but rather trust God's gift of "enough."  And over and over again, the people had to learn that when they took more than they needed, not only did it mean that some other family went without, but what was hoarded grew maggots on it.  The lesson was clear: hoarding stinks, and it runs counter to the Torah's vision of trusting that God would provide enough for all.  Where the ancient Israelites kept failing at that, Jesus succeeds.  Jesus is the Israelite who goes to the wilderness and trusts in God's provision of "enough," and so he can say a clear "no" to the Tempter's offer of endless consumption.  Jesus knows that just because he has the potential privilege and divine power such that he could turn stones into bread, it is not the way of love to follow that course of action.  He says "no" to the logic of "more-is-always-better," and he says "farewell" to the Veruca Salt way of life that sees privilege as something to be leveraged only for yourself and your own comfort.

Now, it seems to me that the meaning of Jesus' choice and response to the Tempter in this story is pretty clear--for him.  The difficult thing for us is to see that this story isn't contained to Jesus or "Bible times" or some exceptional circumstances only when face to face with the devil himself.  This story points us toward a choice each of us is dared to make, not just once, but every day: will we pursue the path of endless consumption [because it's our "right"] or will we find the courage with Jesus to say "No" to the arrogant belief that I should always leverage my ability to get "more" for myself?

It's worth recognizing just how counter-cultural it is to follow the way of Jesus here.  There are lots of voices that get very defensive any time someone suggests there should be limits on how much I consume, how many resources I use up, or how much I hoard.  They'll say it's un-American... un-friendly to "the market"... or un-patriotic to curtail my freedom to get "more." [Remember after September 11, 2001 when the official word from the government was how it was our patriotic duty to buy more and keep the markets chugging, lest we "let the terrorists win"?]  And of course, often those same voices assume that Jesus would back them up in their quest for unrestricted acquisition and manna hoarding.  What a surprise, then, to actually listen to Jesus and to hear his loud and clear "No" to the lure of "more."

This is the challenge for us today--and, honestly, every day in this culture and time.  Will we dare to love like Jesus, even when that means seeing how arrogant we have been to believe we have a right to unchecked consumption?  Will we dare to say "No" to pretending we have a right to hoard in order to say "Yes" to the Reign of God who promises enough for all? And can we see that sometimes my choice to have less--maybe to use less energy, to spend less money, to repair rather than buy new, or to be content with what I have rather than always wanting more--may well be what it looks like to love more like Jesus?

Today, in whatever situations we find ourselves, what if we would follow Jesus' lead and say  farewell to the Veruca Salt mindset we've fallen for before, no matter how popular it still is?

Dear Jesus, give us the courage today to say a countercultural "No" to the quest for more, and the faithful trust to say "Yes" to your vision of enough.