First Sunday in Lent, Year A

Sermon at Saint Margaret’s Anglican Church, Budapest (2026.02.22)

First Sunday in Lent, Year A

Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7; Romans 5:12-19; Matthew 4:1-11; Psalm 32

Last week, as my family was reflecting on this passage from Matthew’s Gospel, Jonathan asked incredulously, “Why would it be wrong for Jesus to turn the stones into bread?!”

It is a good question. Why should Jesus not be able to use his power to feed himself?

My initial response loosely followed Dostoyevsky’s argument in The Brothers Karamazov – one of the masterpieces of world literature.  Yet as I was making the arguments, I realised that even I wasn’t fully satisfied with the explanation. Happily, the lectionary for today provided an opportunity to explore this question of the “Temptation of Christ” in greater depth. 

In short, there are at least ten distinct ways Matthew 4 has been interpreted down through the ages – from the Patristic typological framework where Jesus recapitulates Adam, to the Medieval lens of moral theology and chief vices, down through the Modern emphasis on empire, consumerism, and spectacle. They all have something important to add.

This morning, I will not bore you with all ten but instead would like to focus on the thread that connects our three Readings today: Adam and Eve’s sin in the Garden, the Temptation of Christ in the wilderness, and Paul’s reflection on how Christ ultimately reversed the consequences of Adam’s Fall. 

Let’s begin with where it all began – the Garden of Eden.

God had previously instructed Adam not to eat from the tree in the middle of the Garden – the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil – but a crafty serpent comes along and begins to sow seeds of doubt. “Did God say you couldn’t eat from any of the trees?” “Oh, just the tree in the middle? Well, you’re not really going to die if you eat from it – that’s just to scare you off, since God knows that if you eat it, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God!”

Like the “Temptation of Christ,” there are loads of interpretations of this passage from Genesis.

Interestingly, a related use of the expression ‘knowing good and evil’ appears in Deuteronomy 1:39, which refers to the so-called “age of accountability” in children, when they can make their own moral decisions (and be culpable for them). Before that point, children live in a kind of innocence, not knowing good from bad.

Stated another way, the “knowledge of good and evil” is the capacity to make independent judgments concerning a person’s own life, as opposed to living under the authority and moral responsibility of their parents. 

In the case of Adam and Eve, the serpent’s temptation – or rather test – is a test of their relationship to God. Do they want to follow God’s design for their lives, or do they want to break free from the limitations imposed on them, to become like God, being in control and making their own decisions, independently of what God desires? 

The serpent’s insinuation is that the restrictions God imposed are arbitrary and oppressive. The only way to be truly free is to transgress those limits and have their eyes opened. Only then will they be fully self-actualised, as opposed to submitting themselves to God, living in obedience, and remaining “innocent” like children. 

To be honest, all of us here likely agree with the serpent – that it is better to be “adults” than children, to be independent of authority and free from outside limitations, as opposed to being, in Paul’s words, “slaves to Christ.” Everything in us wants to be in control, to have the freedom to choose whatever we want.

Seeing “that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes” they “took of its fruit and ate…Then the eyes of both were opened” (Gen 3:6-7). However, instead of becoming like God, they realised that they were naked. Diminished, ashamed, and instead of being free, they were now profoundly vulnerable – so they sewed some leaves together.

Jumping forward, the test that Jesus encountered in the wilderness was essentially the same test Adam and Eve underwent in the Garden. 

Hungry after 40 days of fasting and at one of his weakest moments, Satan tests his resolve to embrace dependence on the Father. Unlike Adam and Eve, Jesus, in his humanity chose a life of submission and obedience to his Father, so Satan keeps testing whether he would remain faithful, or conversely, if under pressure, he would decide to provide for himself and secure his own future. 

Just one verse earlier in Matthew 3, Jesus, having been baptised in the Jordan, heard God say, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased” (Mt 3:17). Consequently, the parallel is striking, when Satan begins with essentially the same argument he made to Adam and Eve: “If you are the Son of God…”, i.e. “Did God really say what you think he did?”

First sow a seed of doubt, then test the person’s faithfulness.

Interestingly, the three tests Satan poses to Jesus in the wilderness are essentially the same tests Jesus will encounter later:

• After Peter’s confession that Jesus is the Son of God, Peter then rejects the idea that Jesus must die. With all his power, surely there is another way to redeem the world! (Mt 16:23)

• In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus is again tempted to choose some other path instead of going to the cross, pleading with God to take the cup from him if there is any other way (Mt 26:36-46).

• Finally, brutalised and hanging on the cross, the crowd echoes Satan’s temptation: “If you are the Son of God, then save yourself” (Mt 27:39-44)

Turning stones into bread is the same temptation – to use his power to save himself instead of remaining dependent on God. It would allow his divine nature to overwhelm and circumvent his human nature, the very thing he took on to redeem humanity by finally being the only human who remained obedient to God, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness or his very life. 

Similarly, deliberately throwing himself down from the Temple would require God to intervene and save him, ultimately reversing their roles – where God has to serve the Son, instead of the Son serving the Father. It represents a counterfeit path, where instead of conquering death by laying down his life for a fallen humanity, Satan tempts him to conquer death through an abuse of his position.

Finally, Satan gives up on pretence and offers a straight-up trade. If Jesus were to worship him – and thus break the first commandment against idolatry – Satan would establish Jesus as the King of Kings. The ends presumably justify the means.

Ultimately, Jesus refuses all three. He will not take things into his own hands or step outside the path God has called him to pursue. He accepts the limitations placed on him as a human, as well as the suffering and heartache that come with it. He chooses to put the will of his Father ahead of his own ambitions and desires. Jesus fully submits his life to the will of his Father. 

As we continue this journey though Lent, it is a great time to reflect on our own lives and the ways we have deviated from the path Christ has called us to. If we’re honest, much in our culture – and much in our hearts – sympathises with the serpent’s suggestion that it is “Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heav’n” (Milton, Paradise Lost), to be the masters of our own destiny, to pursue our own happiness and fulfilment. But it is a Faustian bargain.

The good news is that Easter is coming, and in the words of the Apostle Paul, just as sin entered the world through one man, the free gift of grace and forgiveness was made possible through one man, Jesus Christ.  

Amen.