Harmatia and Redeeming Grace
A Reflection on the Readings of the First Sunday of Lent 2020 by Sr. Cecille Tuble, rc. Genesis 2: 7-9; 3:1-7 Romans 5: 12-19 Matt 4: 1-11 Lent opens with our readings which tell the profound and astounding story of God’s saving love for us. Genesis looks at the mystery of sin straight in the eye and boldly pronounces: all creation is good because it comes from a Good God. God is good, and yet humans, although made in the image and likeness of God and therefore fundamentally good, have nonetheless freely opted for evil. The passage from innocence to sinfulness was freely chosen, and the lot of Adam and Eve, our archetypal representatives, is the condition of all of us. Here is the harsh reality of evil and sin and death, and we human beings—no matter how hard we try— are bound to falter and sin and fall short of responding fully to God’s life-giving love. The story of Adam and Eve is the story of human rebellion, a pretentious striving “to be like God.” Found out, they did not acknowledge their fault but instead pointed fingers at others: Adam blaming Eve, Eve blaming the serpent. This sinfulness courses through our veins and makes our best efforts finite and paltry. The ancient Greeks had a similar term for this: Hamartia, the tragic flaw. As Stephen Duffy describes it: “The flow of fallen history courses through us, not around us, and leaves the ‘death dance in our blood.’” Who can save us then? St. Paul in his letter to the Romans asserts that our redemption originates in and through Christ, the new Adam. Paul understood that we all experience the war between spirit and flesh, because sin contaminates us all, down through human history. And so it is that God’s grace overflows and redeems us, through Christ. How then, can we look at Christ’s redeeming grace? In our Gospel, Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil. At first glance, this seems odd: the Holy Spirit leading Jesus into a deserted place where he will encounter the devil? However, it is important to remember the event that came before this episode: the Baptism of Jesus. In his baptism, Jesus hears the Father say: This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased (Matt 3:17). Jesus, led by the Spirit, must now pray and fast and discern exactly what being the Beloved Son means. So he goes off into the desert, to make, one might say, a discernment retreat. And the stage is set for the tempter. Twice he taunts Jesus: “If you are the Son of God…” The temptation is closely linked with Jesus’ identity. So it is with us. If we look closely at our temptations, we will notice how they touch and echo our heart’s desires, our self-concepts, our little and great schemes to boost who we think we are and who we want to be. Whatever the myriad ways we go about it, at the heart of it all we just want to be loved. In the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, we are invited to meditate on the ways of the Evil One and the ways of Jesus. The evil one tempts through riches, honor and pride; Jesus invites us to a way marked by poverty, dishonor and humility. We see the echoes of this in the temptation story: Jesus spurns personal fulfillment and satisfaction even of his most basic needs (bread), personal glory and honor and power in the world (kingdoms), and even the absolute certainty about the Father’s love and care for him (throw yourself down to prove that your Father will save you). In the Spiritual Exercises, Jesus instead chooses poverty, dishonor and humility, which express his absolute trust and unshakeable love for the One he calls “Abba.” What about us? Lent is an invitation to look at the sinfulness and selfishness present in our life, straight in the eye. Can we honestly say, yes, that’s my temptation and this is my sin, and not point fingers like Adam and Eve? Can we face our temptations squarely and discern, putting our complete trust that Jesus will show us the way? Can we take consolation in the truth that Jesus, like us, was “tempted in every way but did not sin” (Hebrews 4: 15)? Can we believe in our hearts that we, like Jesus, are God’s beloved children, and that God yearns for us and wants us to come home? Jan Richardson has a beautiful blessing to begin Lent: Beloved is Where We Begin If you would enterinto the wilderness,do not beginwithout a blessing. Do not leavewithout hearingwho you are:Beloved,named by the Onewho has traveled this pathbefore you. Do not gowithout letting it echoin your ears,and if you findit is hardto let it into your heart,do not despair.That is whatthis journey is for. I cannot promisethis blessing will free youfrom danger,from fear,from hungeror thirst,from the scorchingof sunor the fallof the night. But I can tell youthat on this paththere will be help. I can tell youthat on this waythere will be rest. I can tell youthat you will knowthe strange gracesthat come to our aidonly on a roadsuch as this,that fly to meet usbearing comfortand strength,that come alongside usfor no other causethan to lean themselvestoward our earand with theircurious insistencewhisper our name: Beloved.Beloved.Beloved. From ‘Circle of Grace‘ by Jan Richardson
