So this week we’ve stepped once again into the holy season of Lent. And to be completely honest I love Lent – it’s probably my favourite party of the liturgical year. But this might not be the case for all of you - some of you may approach Lent with a sense of dread, thinking of it as weeks of misery, austerity and self‑denial.
But some of us see it very differently. We feel a kind of relief. A homecoming. A chance to finally exhale and let go. Lent can be a season of spiritual recharging, a time when we’re able to leave behind the noise of the world for just long enough for us to hear the whisper of God.
And today’s Gospel draws us into this
Matthew tells us that “Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness.” He wasn’t pushed or forced but led, guided and accompanied by the Spirit. The wilderness isn’t a place Jesus stumbles into by accident or is thrown into by force; it was a place of intention and purpose, a place of encounter. And if we choose to follow him there, it can for us become a place of transformation.
We might imagine the wilderness as a place that’s hostile. But what if it’s actually a place of growth? A place which allows the unnecessary things of life to fall away and those which are actually important to become clearer?
Jesus goes into the wilderness right after his baptism, right after hearing the words: “You are my beloved.” He doesn’t go there seeking God’s love or approval. He goes there already held by it. The wilderness becomes the space where he learns to trust that love more deeply.
And that’s the invitation of Lent—not to prove ourselves to God, but to remember who we already are, who God created us to be. The noise and busyness of life often causes our true self or purpose to become masked.
This is where St Thérèse of Lisieux becomes a wise companion – my devotion this Lent is a book of daily meditations which reflect upon her “little way”. Thérèse never travelled far, never preached, never founded anything. Her “Little Way” is simply the way of trusting love in the small, hidden places of life.
She once wrote, “Jesus does not demand great actions from us, but simply surrender and gratitude” which could be a great way for us to approach Lent.
Thérèse teaches us that holiness isn’t found in heroic feats or grand gestures but in small acts of courage, in tenderness, and in trust. She would tell us that the wilderness isn’t frightening when we walk it with Jesus. It becomes the place where we discover that God meets us in our smallness, and ordinariness, not in our seeking to be perfect or important.
And that’s good news for us - because it’s a reminder that God’s love isn’t conditional. The wilderness isn’t a test we have to pass, but a space where we learn to rest in the truth that we’re already beloved.
The three temptations Jesus faces aren’t random; they’re invitations to choose who he will be.
The first temptation is “Turn these stones into bread.” This is the temptation to define ourselves by what we produce. But Lent whispers: You are more than your output.
The second is “Throw yourself down from the temple.” This is the temptation to prove our worth. But Lent whispers: You don’t need to perform for God.
Finally Jesus is told “All these kingdoms I will give you.” This is the temptation to grasp for power. But Lent whispers: True strength is found in love.
Thérèse would smile at these temptations because she knew them well. She knew the pressure to be impressive, to be extraordinary. And she gently reminds us that Jesus chooses a different path—the path of humility, simplicity, and trust in God’s love.
I like to think of Lent like a spiritual retreat I didn’t have to book. It’s a season that gives us permission to slow down, to simplify, to just breathe. In its wilderness we can be honest about our hungers, our longing and our questions – our own temptations.
And Jesus meets us there - not with judgment, but with companionship.
The wilderness is where Jesus became more fully himself. And it’s where we can become more fully ourselves too.
Not by striving to be our best and most righteous self. Not by punishing ourselves for being human and often not living up to what we think God expects of us. But by letting go of what no longer serves us and holding fast to what does.
I hope that for us Lent isn’t about feeling shame for not being the perfect reflection of Jesus, or about what we’re denying ourselves. I hope it’s about how expansive the wilderness is, allowing us to make room for God’s voice amid the noise of our lives. I hope it’s about choosing love over fear, compassion over cynicism, and presence over distraction.
I hope it’s about remembering that we’re not alone in the wilderness. Jesus walks with us. The Spirit leads us. And I hope that even the angels – in those moments of unexpected grace - minister to us along the way.
Perhaps this Lent, inspired by St Thérèse, we might try a “little way” of our own, to help open our hearts and minds to what we might find or learn about ourselves in it’s wilderness:
We might do this by spending a few minutes in silence each day
Performing smalls act of kindness
Being gentle with the words we say to ourselves
Choosing sabbath rest instead of rush
And committing to justice that comes from a place of compassion
These are small, little things, but they might be tiny seeds of transformation.
I invite you to see Lent as I do, as a beautiful God-given gift. A gift where the Spirit leads us into a place where we can hear again the truth spoken at Jesus’ baptism which also is true for us: “You are my beloved.”
We join Jesus in the wilderness not with fear, but with anticipation. Not with heaviness, but with hope. Not to prove ourselves, but to rediscover the God who already delights in us.
May this Lent recharge our spirits. May it deepen our trust. And may it lead us, step by small step, to be encircled within God’s love.
Amen.
Matthew 4:1–11
4 Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. 2 He fasted for forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished. 3 The tempter came and said to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.’ 4 But he answered, ‘It is written,
“One does not live by bread alone,
but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”’
5 Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, 6 saying to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written,
“He will command his angels concerning you”,
and “On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.”’
7 Jesus said to him, ‘Again it is written, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”’
8 Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendour; 9 and he said to him, ‘All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.’ 10 Jesus said to him, ‘Away with you, Satan! for it is written,
“Worship the Lord your God,
and serve only him.”’
11 Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him.
