Away From The Noise

Luke 4:1-13

Do you ever want to just get away from the noise?

It’s a very noisy world we live in, and not just because of the decibel level. There’s information noise, with torrents of things you need to know – and things you don’t – flooding through the internet and airwaves. Visual noise, with advertising and flashing lights and words and symbols clamoring for attention everywhere – and all the clutter we’re supposed to be clearing out of our houses.

One of the first things we learned in the RenewalWorks process so far is that busyness is the greatest obstacle to our spiritual growth in this world. Not trauma or crisis or ignorance. Busyness – that sense of how much we have to do, all the expectations we have to meet – is the single greatest obstacle these days to having a relationship with God at all, much less growing stronger and deeper and more joyful.

And I’m pretty sure Jesus understands that.

There might not have been cable news or internet; no flashing lights or heavy equipment noise in first century Israel. But “Messiah” or “Son of God” was a very noisy title or identity at the time of Jesus. A title  extremely cluttered with expectations to meet and things to do and be.

So Jesus goes to the wilderness to get away from the noise. To turn down the volume on all those tasks and expectations – and the everyday physical noise – so that he can hear God’s voice more clearly. So that he can hear God’s idea of his identity more clearly than the voices of those who want the Messiah to play politics, feed the world without our lifting a finger, and prove God’s worth with worldly success.

Jesus doesn’t go to the wilderness in order to pass a spiritual test, or achieve something. He goes to the wilderness to focus on the voice of God.

Just the same way, in Lent, we don’t fast – give things up – to prove we can do it. We give things up to clear away the noise so that we can more clearly hear the voice of God.

And that’s why we tell this particular Jesus story today. Because this Lent – any Lent – we are trying to imitate Jesus in his dedicated focus on the voice and will of God, his deep and all-powerful trust.

Of course, you may not have forty days off work (or parenting, or school, or the daily tasks of life) to go sit alone and listen. Like me, you might be terrible at wilderness camping.

So we need other ways to turn down the noise.
Because that noisy busyness is, in fact, the greatest obstacle to our relationship with God, our ability to hear and know God, to trust in God.

I have friends who give up Facebook for Lent. Or turn off the TV, the internet news feed, or the radio to turn down the noise.

Some find that giving up a food or an indulgence helps to quiet the inner noise.

Others might take on more time with scripture. More time in silence. Even five minutes a day.

What kind of wilderness experience could you have commuting or running errands with silence, or prayer, instead of with a podcast or the radio?

I tried that this week, actually, and it was stunning how much inner quiet I could actually find when I turned off the radio in my car, and tried to turn my ears toward God. Not every time, but amazing some times.

And one of the things that happens when you turn down the noise is that the voice of evil – of everything that draws us away from God – gets quieter, but much clearer, too.

It’s so clear in the wilderness that you and I get to hear it along with Jesus in Luke’s story today.

The “temptations” the devil offers Jesus in this story are a distilled, clearer version of the clamor to fulfill expectations, get lots of stuff done, and be a worldly success that surround Jesus all the time, and make “Messiah” such a noisy word. They are specific versions of the pressure to provide security, accomplishment, power, comfort, and success that surround Jesus in his life – and, in different ways, surround you and me in our lives.

And in that wilderness, every time the devil puts these expectations and noisy needs into clear words and invitations, Jesus quotes scripture. Jesus chooses God’s voice, says YES to God, not “no” to the devil.

One does not live by bread alone, Jesus says. And the devil (who does know scripture), and many of Luke’s audience recognize right away that the rest of that quote would be: but by every word that comes from God. (Deuteronomy 8:3)

Worship the Lord your God, and serve only God. (Deuteronomy 6:13)

Do not put the Lord your God to the test. (Deuteronomy 6:16)

Over and over, every time he’s invited to make a choice, Jesus leans in to the word of God. He leans in to his focus on God, his obedience to God – which is a trust deep enough not to need to control my own way; trust open and honest enough to let God do the driving, and trust deep enough to know that God will be right there for every step of the journey.

Jesus isn’t just saying “no” to temptation. He’s demonstrating for us – for anyone who will pay attention – that all the other voices offering us power, security, comfort, success, and food really just don’t seem all that attractive when you have all those things already because of your trust in God.

That’s what God wants for us; what Jesus wants for you: For us to trust so deeply in God that we find these “temptations” around us all the time to be less attractive than what we already have with God. For it to be joyful to say yes, instead of hard to say no.

And Jesus is also demonstrating for us that we don’t resist temptation by ourselves.

We can’t.

There are far too many things – overt evil and mundane noisy busyness and cultural indifference and everything in between – trying to get between us and God, to draw our attention and trust away from God, for any of us – even Jesus, in his humanness – to resist temptation by our own strength and will and capability.

We have to depend on God. 

Completely. Profoundly. Persistently.

That’s the only thing that makes it possible to resist temptation.

I’d like to tell you that’s easy, but I can’t.

It is simple. But it’s a huge commitment. And an essential one. Because that complete dependence on God is the one thing that makes it natural to shed all the noise of other expectations, the stickiness of little everyday evils, the seduction or oppressive force of great evil.

We fast in Lent – we take on our own wilderness, whatever it is – to help us do as Jesus does. We don’t fast in Lent to strengthen our willpower muscles. We fast – give things up – to strengthen our profound dependence on God. To commit ourselves to God’s voice which resists all the evil that tries to control us, or tries to insist that we do it all ourselves.

God wants nothing more than to break through all the noise that clamors for our attention, to help us find that stillness and clarity of deep connection to God’s voice, the profound dependence on God that lifts the burden of doing it all off of your back.

God wants that heart-filling, spirit-protecting, joy-full trust for you.

For me. For each of us.

So God invites us to the wilderness.

Don’t you want to say “yes”?