Temptation
Temptation
by Fr Michael Casey
The temptation narrative in the earliest Gospel needs to be read in its own right and not confused with the details Matthew and Luke added to suit their particular approaches. Mark’s account is extremely brief and follows quickly on the narrative of Jesus’ baptism. In an astonishing reversal of mood, Mark tells us the Spirit immediately and violently drives God’s Son out into the desert — the same verb is used for the expulsion of demons. The effect of being admitted to divine intimacy is instant despatch to the front line of battle. I wonder whether the evangelist is trying to communicate to us that sonship and temptation are two faces of the same reality. For Jesus to live consciously as God’s Son here on earth necessarily involves a struggle. To be with God means contending with "Satan" who, in the Old Testament, is not so much an anti-God but the adversary of humanity, the recorder and accuser of every misdeed.
More practically, Mark is preparing us for the fact that Christian life, likewise, is "not without persecutions" (10:30). We have been called to follow the one who was tempted in the desert, and we must expect that fidelity to our life of discipleship will involve us in substantial and sometimes earth-shuddering struggles.
The modality of temptation is further specified by the addition of two other elements: "He was with the wild beasts and the angels were serving him". Notice that in Mark the two relationships coexist, whereas in Matthew the angels make their appearance only when the temptation terminates. This sentence could easily be understood as a statement of Jesus’ dual nature, with one foot in the world of the beasts and the other in that of the angels. In a different sense it is an enigmatic summary of the human condition. It is this duality that precipitates human beings into the dilemma of temptation. We are simultaneously beastly and angelic but we are not mere beasts, and we are certainly not angels. What we become depends on a self-determining act of will. But to which polarity will our voluntary assent incline? We can recognise something of our authentic selves in both extremes. Tragedy results when we single-heartedly pursue one and, in the process, are obliged to deny the other. The result is falsity. To be true to ourselves we have to maintain our links with both the physical world and the spiritual world, and there is no simple formula that can give us lifelong balance. We have to adapt as we go. And mostly we do it badly.
Mark is telling us, perhaps, that Jesus was not immune from the wavering inconstancy of the human nature. "He was tempted in all things like us, but did not sin" (Hebrews 4:15). The condition was the same as ours, the struggle was similar; only the outcome was different. "He is able to help those who are tempted because he himself suffered temptation" (Hebrews 2:18). Viewed from a certain aspect, our earthly sojourn is a prolonged experience of being alienated from our spiritual home. If we allow ourselves to be conformed to our ambience, we progressively lose our identity as God’s children and become alienated from our deep selves. We are in the wilderness in the sense that the only way we can be true to what we are is to resist the deformative influences that surround us.
More practically, Mark is preparing us for the fact that Christian life, likewise, is "not without persecutions" (10:30). We have been called to follow the one who was tempted in the desert, and we must expect that fidelity to our life of discipleship will involve us in substantial and sometimes earth-shuddering struggles.
The modality of temptation is further specified by the addition of two other elements: "He was with the wild beasts and the angels were serving him". Notice that in Mark the two relationships coexist, whereas in Matthew the angels make their appearance only when the temptation terminates. This sentence could easily be understood as a statement of Jesus’ dual nature, with one foot in the world of the beasts and the other in that of the angels. In a different sense it is an enigmatic summary of the human condition. It is this duality that precipitates human beings into the dilemma of temptation. We are simultaneously beastly and angelic but we are not mere beasts, and we are certainly not angels. What we become depends on a self-determining act of will. But to which polarity will our voluntary assent incline? We can recognise something of our authentic selves in both extremes. Tragedy results when we single-heartedly pursue one and, in the process, are obliged to deny the other. The result is falsity. To be true to ourselves we have to maintain our links with both the physical world and the spiritual world, and there is no simple formula that can give us lifelong balance. We have to adapt as we go. And mostly we do it badly.
Mark is telling us, perhaps, that Jesus was not immune from the wavering inconstancy of the human nature. "He was tempted in all things like us, but did not sin" (Hebrews 4:15). The condition was the same as ours, the struggle was similar; only the outcome was different. "He is able to help those who are tempted because he himself suffered temptation" (Hebrews 2:18). Viewed from a certain aspect, our earthly sojourn is a prolonged experience of being alienated from our spiritual home. If we allow ourselves to be conformed to our ambience, we progressively lose our identity as God’s children and become alienated from our deep selves. We are in the wilderness in the sense that the only way we can be true to what we are is to resist the deformative influences that surround us.
