Sermon | Into the Wilderness of Grace | Rev. Ann Mann | Barnesville First UMC | February 22, 2026 скачать в хорошем качестве

Sermon | Into the Wilderness of Grace | Rev. Ann Mann | Barnesville First UMC | February 22, 2026

Sermon | Into the Wilderness of Grace | Rev. Ann Mann | Barnesville First UMC | February 22, 2026 The wilderness is not where we expect grace to show up. We imagine grace arriving in green pastures and still waters, in moments of clarity and certainty, in places where the path forward feels obvious and safe. The wilderness feels like the place where things fall apart. It is dry, lonely, disorienting, where the questions get louder and the answers feel farther away. And yet, Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness. Not driven. Not abandoned. Not punished. Led. Scripture Lesson: Matthew 4: 1-11 (Please read on your own) The Spirit who descended on Jesus at his baptism, who hovered as the voice from heaven declared, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased”, led Jesus into a place of testing. That reshapes how we understand Lent. It is not about earning God’s love, nor a spiritual boot camp. It isn't meant to make us suffer. Lent is a season when the Spirit leads us into honest places, not to break us, but to strengthen us for faithful love and service. Jesus enters the wilderness fresh from baptism, affirmed, and named as beloved. That matters, because what happens next is not a test of whether Jesus is good enough for God. It is a test of whether Jesus will trust what God has already said about him. The devil knows exactly who Jesus is. The question is not about Jesus’ identity. The question is whether Jesus will live out that identity on the devil’s terms instead of God’s. That makes this temptation story more intimate, and more familiar. Because often, temptation isn't about doing something obviously evil. Often, it is about being invited to forget who and whose we are, letting hunger, fear, or pressure convince us that God’s promises can't be trusted. This is the human story from the very beginning. God placed Adam and Eve in a garden overflowing with abundance. Everything they need is already provided. And yet, they find themselves drawn not to what is freely given, but to what is forbidden. We recognize this pattern, don’t we? How quickly abundance fades into the background, and our attention narrows to the one thing we cannot have. The serpent asks, “Is it really that big of a deal?” “What would happen?” These questions sound reasonable. But they pull us away from trust and toward control. They whisper that God might be holding out on us, that obedience is limitation rather than life. Jesus faces those same ancient questions. He is tempted to test God’s faithfulness, to demand proof rather than trust. He is tempted to claim glory without the cross, authority without sacrifice. Jesus resists because he knows who he is. Each response is grounded in Scripture, grounded in trust. Adam doubted God’s generosity, Jesus embodied it. Where sin once multiplied, grace now overflows. This is classic Wesleyan theology: sin is real, but grace is always greater. Temptation is part of the human condition, but it does not have the final word. God’s grace goes before us, meets us in the struggle, and carries us through. Jesus teaches us to pray, “Lead us not into temptation.” It is not a denial that temptation exists. It is a daily act of trust, a reminder that we are not meant to navigate testing alone. It is a prayer that roots us again in who God is and who we are. At the end of the wilderness story, angels appear and serve Jesus. It would be easy to read this as a reward. But the text suggests something gentler and more enduring, the abiding presence of God. The wilderness was preparation. These tests will return throughout Jesus’ ministry, in moments of misunderstanding, rejection, betrayal, and ultimately, the cross. The promise is not that temptation will end, but that God’s presence will remain. Matthew’s Gospel begins by naming Jesus as Immanuel, God with us. It ends with Jesus promising, “I am with you always.” The wilderness sits between those two truths. Our Lenten practices of faith, prayer, fasting, generosity, repentance, are not about proving our devotion. They are about remembering who we are and whose we are. They are about increasing our trust in the God who has already claimed us as beloved. Lent gives us space to ask hard questions, not so we can spiral into doubt, but so we can learn to trust again. Trust that life can come from death. Trust that resurrection is not just a story for Jesus, but a promise for us. Trust that even in the wilderness, grace is at work. So, when we find ourselves in a dry place, questioning, tempted, uncertain, hear this good news: we have not been abandoned. We are not being punished. The Spirit who named us beloved is still with us. And even here, especially here, God is at work, shaping us for faithful love.