1st Sunday of Lent 2026
Genesis 2:7-9, 3:1-7; Psalm 50 (51); Romans 5: 12-19; Matthew 4:1-11
Last week, I quoted Oscar Wilde. Today, oddly enough, I am going to quote him again, because it was he who wrote “I can resist everything except temptation”.
That isn’t as facile as it sounds. There are many things which I can resist, because they simply don’t tempt me. For instance, I have never been tempted to gorge myself on parsnips, or on binge-watching soap operas, because I don’t like either of them. I daresay parsnips are delightful vegetables, but I have had a horror of them ever since I bit into one in my school dinner, under the impression that it was a chip.
As far as the temptations which assailed Our Lord are concerned, all of them would have been non-starters for me. I would never be tempted to try to turn stones into bread, because I would know that I couldn’t do it; nor would I be tempted to throw myself down from the base of the spire of Lancaster Cathedral.
I am utterly terrified of heights. A friend of mine once took me onto the roof of the tower of Durham Cathedral. While he wandered merrily around the edge of the roof, cheerfully pointing out the sights, I was clinging, eyes tightly closed, to the flagpole in the middle, praying that the world would stop whirling around, and dreading the moment when I would have to let go, in order to stagger towards the steps leading back down.
As for ruling the kingdoms of the world, I couldn’t lead a cub pack, or even organise myself. The thought of being responsible for millions of people would reduce me to a gibbering wreck.
Am I, then, safe from temptation? Am I heck as like! I suffer from any number of temptations, about which I intend to say nothing. Our reading from the Book of Genesis makes the point that temptation is as old as the human race, while St. Paul tells us that it, and its consequence, sin, have spread through the whole of this race of ours. If anyone were to be foolish enough to think that they were immune to temptation, they would be one step from disaster.
However you envisage the devil, there is no doubt that evil exists, and is capable of exploiting our weaknesses. The woman is attracted, not only by the sweetness of the fruit, but by the prospect of becoming wise. Both sweetness and wisdom are good things, yet she should have recalled that God did not wish her to attain them in this way at this time.
Likewise, the man is attracted in the same way; in addition, he is too lazy or too careless to resist his wife’s enthusiasm. This is the first instance of peer pressure, to which we have been prone ever since: a particular problem for young people, but not only for them.
Would it be better if we were never tempted? Apparently not, because we are told that Our Lord was “led by the Spirit into the wilderness, to be tempted by the devil”. In other words, Jesus’ temptations were ultimately the responsibility of the Holy Spirit. Why should this be?
Well, the Son of God was to suffer all that afflicts human beings, and that includes temptation. He had to be tempted in order to overcome temptation, to undo the damage caused by our first parents, en route to giving us the gift of eternal life, by Himself suffering death. How do we receive this gift? By ourselves resisting temptation. How can we manage that? By entering into the wilderness with Jesus.
Our Lenten exercises of extra prayer, giving, and self-denial help us to share in Our Lord’s wilderness journey. One extra temptation may be that of giving up, of losing hope. Do try to resist that temptation, because our wilderness journey is ultimately a journey to life.
