A friendly word

In the desert with Jesus: Lent as a path to identity and freedom

Lent has begun, marking a period that evokes the forty days of biblical tradition. This number has a symbolic value, since it alludes to an extended duration, capable of testing human endurance by its prolongation. In this time of apparent heaviness, a crossroads arises: temptation presents itself and invites us to make a decision. However, this stage also becomes an opportunity to renew our yes to the Lord.

The Gospel illuminates the profound meaning of Lent, beginning with the presence of the Holy Spirit. After the baptism of Jesus, when heaven was opened and the Spirit descended, this same Spirit leads him into the desert. The Holy Spirit, the bond of love between the Father and the Son, is the intimate life of the Trinity, the Love that constantly embraces Jesus and reminds him of his identity as the beloved Son, as proclaimed by the voice of the Father:

“This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased” (Mt 3:17).

The desert, although it may seem to us a hostile and arid place, in Hebrew is said מִדְבָּר (midbar), which means “from where the Word comes.” In this space of silence, where voices and noises are silenced, the Word of God can be heard clearly. Thus, the desert becomes a place of discernment, where we learn to recognize the authentic voice of God that reveals our deepest identity. Hebrew tradition teaches that Israel needed forty years to internalize what was manifested when crossing the Red Sea: its identity as the Son of God, according to Hosea:

“Out of Egypt I have called my Son” (Hos 11:1).

This process was not immediate, for in the wilderness the people were tempted many times, doubting God’s love and fearing that they had been abandoned. However, this time became a period of courtship, in which they learned to distinguish between the voice that sows despair and the voice that reaffirms their divine filiation.

Jesus walks the same path as Israel. During Lent, we accompany him on his journey, facing temptations. It is crucial to remember that being tempted is not a sin, since Jesus himself was tempted. What matters is our response. Temptation comes from the διάβολος (diabolos), the accuser, the one who divides and separates us from God, making us doubt our condition as beloved children. It is not by chance that two temptations begin with the words, “If you are the Son of God” (Mt 4:3,6), seeking to undermine the certainty of our identity.

The first temptation, to transform stones into bread, arises after the fast, when fatigue becomes more intense. The Hebrew word for stone, אבן (eben), is phonetically similar to son, בן (ben). Here we are shown the danger of instrumentalizing others to satisfy our own needs, devouring others instead of welcoming them as brothers. Psychology reveals that when we do not live in gratitude, we tend to eliminate our neighbor either by ignoring or absorbing him.

The second temptation refers to power, a more intense seduction for Jesus as Messiah descendant of David. The enemy asks for only a small gesture: to prostrate oneself. However, the history of Christian persecution shows that this seemingly insignificant act can be a profound betrayal.

The third temptation is the most subtle, since it appeals to the relationship with God, inciting Jesus to demand a spectacular divine intervention. This attitude can hide behind our complaints when we believe that God has not helped us as we expected.

The Lenten itinerary invites us to go through this time between the Red Sea and the Jordan, so that it becomes a phase of maturation and sedimentation of the founding experience: the passage from slavery to freedom, from fear to trust, from doubt to the certainty that we are God’s beloved children.

 

Fr. Luciano Audisio, OAR

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