It would have been so easy to capitulate. The miracle would require little thought. Stones to bread? Easy. Done with a thought, a glance, a word, a wave. For any other human on earth, it would have been an easy decision. Humanity would eclipse divinity. The growling stomach would be louder than the voice of truth. The urge to demand proof rather than exercise obedient faith would eclipse the pinch of conscience. The possibility of gaining earthly power and prestige with the simplest of actions would nearly outweigh the mental warning of imminent danger. Most others would have jumped at the chance for immediate gratification of their most pressing human needs and desires. Not Jesus.
He’d been in that wilderness a long time. Forty days. Forty nights. More than a month. He’d been fasting. Not one morsel of food had crossed His lips. He was beyond hungry. Painful cramping now accompanied the nearly constant grumbling of His stomach. He was exhausted. Physically. Mentally. The once clear and fervent prayers for the ministry on which He was embarking had drifted into thoughts about the future. Jesus knew what was coming. The part following the three years of ministry. As exciting as the ministry and miracles would be, Jesus knew the culmination of His earthly ministry would be unspeakable. He knew what awaited Him down the line. Persecution. Abuse. Death. Horrible death. Not the kind of passing that happens quietly after a long life and anticipated elderly illness. No. Early age. Violent abuse. Brutal death. It was something He faced with fear and trembling. In the future, He would ask God if there was another way to bring salvation to mankind. Some way. Any way. Anything that would gain the same result without the same suffering. There wouldn’t be. Not now. Not then. Jesus knew that too. The knowledge had the power to make these current wilderness temptations that much more alluring. (Matthew 26:14-16, 36-68, 27:11-52)
In Jesus’ full humanity, the temptations had to seem like a much-desired alternate route to a happy ending. The path ahead was going to be hard. Incredibly hard. People were going to come against Him. Religious leaders would try to trap Him. Someone He called a friend would sell Him off to the highest bidders. He was expecting a bumpy ride. It was already turning out that way. He was starving. Alone. Sitting in the wilderness with no filet of fish in sight, no one with whom to discuss the options, and a loudly growling stomach, it is no surprise that the first temptation was a quick fix for Jesus’ current physical needs. Stones to bread. Speak it. Touch it. Breathe it into being. Listen to the clamoring of His stomach. Ignore the gnawing of His conscience. Brush off the voice warning Him away from temptation. Feed Himself. Physically. It would be so simple to do. But that’s all it would be. Physical food. It wouldn’t strengthen His soul. It wouldn’t enable Him to walk into the world and preach the gospel. His body might be strong, but His soul would be weak. Maybe that was the point. Capitulation to the coming temptation absolutely rested on a weak soul. (Matthew 4:1-4)
Doubling down on the exhaustion and weakness resulting from lack of sustenance, the evil one tried a different tack. Going to the highest point of the Temple, staring out over Jerusalem, he urged Jesus to nix obedient faith in favor of manipulative proof. Prove He was the Son of God. Right then. Do something dramatic. Get attention. Jump off the Temple pinnacle. God would save Him. Right? Isn’t that what the Bible promised? Right there in the Psalms. Remember the words? So do it. Jump off the temple. Presumptuously shove those words in God’s face and force Him to prove His power. Obligate God to use this moment to announce that Jesus was His Son. In the flesh. No more need for faith. No more reason to cling to the Old Testament prophecies and wonder when they would be fulfilled. No more ruthless trust. Give everyone the immediate gratification of witnessing the proof that Jesus was the promised Son of God. No earthquake, no death, no grief required. It almost sounded right. Quoting the Scripture nearly made it seem legitimate. The temptation to succumb must have been intense. Waiting as Jesus weighed the options, the evil one must surely have felt excitement rise within. His lips twitched with a premature grin. If Jesus would abandon His faith and test God, it wouldn’t be an enormous leap for the final temptation to take effect and win the day. (Psalm 91:11-12; Matthew 4:5-6)
Pulling out all the stops for His final endeavor, the evil one trudged to the top of a very high mountain with Jesus in tow. Turning to look over the world, he gestured broadly and made his most grandiose offer yet. Right now, all those kingdoms worshipped him, but it didn’t have to stay that way. That place of prominence and popularity could belong to Jesus. Not at the end of time when every knee would bow and tongue confess. No. It could be His. Right now. Today. If He just did this one teeny, tiny thing. Bow and worship. A quick tap of knees to dirt would suffice. A head lowered in obeisance. A verbal statement admitting that the evil one is currently in power and running the hearts of mankind. In exchange for His soul, Jesus was offered instantaneous prestige and power in a world He knew was destined to defy Him, deny Him, deride Him. It must have been intensely appealing. (Psalm 91:11-12; Matthew 4:7-9; Philippians 2:10)
The tension is nearly palpable as the evil one awaits Jesus’ final answer. The first two abstentions already forgotten in the haze of hope that he had finally won a round. Would He do it? Would Jesus give in? Would His humanity trump His deity? The exhalation of the evil one’s disappointed sigh punctuates Jesus’ adamant response, “Get away from me, satan.” Get. Out. Of. Here. Take your nasty self and your bag of stupid tricks and get out of my wilderness. Out of my secret place. Out of my prayer room. Leave me alone. I belong to God. Only to God. I worship God. Only God. I serve my Father in Heaven. Only. Always. Forever. End of story. And as the evil one fled down the mountain with his tail tucked firmly between his legs, angels of God came into Jesus’ wilderness and ministered to Him. They fed His soul. They gave Him strength. They empowered Him to walk out of that wilderness and begin feeding people. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. (Matthew 4:10-11)
Standing in that desert wilderness, alone, weakened by hunger from His 40-day fast, exhausted in mind and spirit, Jesus listened to the options and staunchly held His ground. He didn’t sell His soul for some bread like Esau did for lentils. He didn’t become so enamoured with the easy way to power and glory that He chose to sacrifice His integrity or His Deity for earthly celebrity. Tempted and tested when He was weak and tired and alone, Jesus never faltered. Every answer was a firm “no.” A Scriptural rebuttal. Jesus wasn’t so tired that the Spirit of God resting on Him couldn’t clearly point out the error of the evil one’s ideas. He wasn’t so weak He couldn’t tell right from wrong. He wasn’t so hungry that He was ready to sit down at just anyone’s table. Because He had spent His time in the wilderness in prayer, He was prepared for every fiery dart of temptation the evil one threw at Him. (Luke 4:1-13; Ephesians 6:10-18; Genesis 25:34)
You can be too. You should be. Not knowing the day or moment the evil one will strike, you should be in constant conversation with God. Know Him. Know His voice. Know His truth. Know it so well that no matter how tired you are or how good the options sound, you can sift through the chaff and recognize the temptation for what it is. Know God’s Word. Memorize it. The words, not the reference. Know exactly what to say when the evil one attacks you with half-truths and twisted ideas. Then stand on it. Firmly. Knowing every word of God is faithful and true, make God’s Word–His directions, His commandments, His promises–your home. And don’t be afraid to get mad at the devil. Seriously. Be angry at him and his ridiculousness. He’s earned it. He has spent his entire existence plaguing people, drawing them aside into sin and destruction. He will do the same to you if you don’t stand firmly against him. (I Peter 5:8; II Corinthians 11:14; Psalm 119:10-11; James 4:7; Proverbs 30:5)
So follow Jesus’ example. Banish the evil one. Kick him out of your space. Even if it’s a wilderness. Then plant your flag. Announce for all to see and hear that you belong to God. Only. You worship God. Alone. You serve your Father in Heaven. Alone. Only. Always. Stay there. Don’t budge. Victory comes to the one who doesn’t back down, no matter how hungry or tired or weak they become. Your tenacity will be rewarded. Eventually, into that space of temptation and trial, God will send His angels to strengthen and comfort your soul. Why? Because He gets it. Through Jesus’ humanity, God understands the emotional and spiritual toll temptation takes on our souls. He is moved and touched by our struggles and trials. He is excited and exultant in our victories. He is ever-present in the middle of our wilderness. Because Jesus lived through the same temptations we do, His triumph means we can be triumphant, too. Even in the middle of the wilderness. (Psalm 34:7, 46:1, 100:3; Isaiah 43:1; Galatians 2:20; I Corinthains 6:12-20; Hebrews 4:14-16)