So how's Lent going? Yeah, yeah. How many of
you are still like, yeah, I'll let that go by
Thursday, right? Have you already renegotiated
the Lenten sacrifice? You know, well, I was gonna
give up all sweets, but maybe I'll just give
up cake. Well, maybe I'll just give up birthday
cake. Maybe I'll just give up my 40th birthday
cake that you already ate three years ago. Have
you adjusted? Have you quietly redefined giving
up? See, it's remarkable what we discover during
these times with the Lenten sacrifices. See,
the moment that we say, I'm not going to have
that during this season, that's the very thing
that catches our attention every single day.
The dessert tastes better when it's forbidden.
The phone feels a little heavier in our pocket
whenever we promise not to check it. The boundary,
it doesn't just sit there, it hums and calls
us. There's something in us that reacts to the
word no the same way that dry timber reacts to
a spark. See, Paul wrestles with that in Romans
7. He says he would not have known coveting if
the law had not said, do not covet. The commandment
that was meant for life somehow became an opportunity
for sin. The line in the sand, it doesn't just
reveal the problem. It actually seems to stir
it up. And why is that? Why does being told no
to something make us want to reach out to it
even more? See, that question, it's older than
Lent. It's older than Paul. It goes back to a
garden. See, in Genesis 3, everything is given.
except for one tree. There's abundance everywhere.
Countless trees, countless fruit, countless vegetables,
countless everything. But there's one. One boundary.
And somehow, that becomes the tree that gets
everybody's attention. I mean, how many amazing
trees must there have been? The tree of kindness,
or the tree of good hope. or the tree of saying
nice things to other people. Nobody cares about
those trees. Something about the knowledge of
good and evil is the one that always catches
because that's the one we're supposed to avoid.
But you see, these temptations, we discover that
humanity has been hanging in the balance. You
see, when we step into the Garden of Eden, we
need to start with something very simple. What
did God actually say? Like, God did not give
Adam and Eve a maze of regulations. This was
not complicated. He did not bury them under fine
print like an apple contract, trying to trick
them into breaking it somehow. In Genesis 2,
he gives one clear command. You may eat from
every tree in the garden, but from the tree of
the knowledge of good and evil, you shall not
eat. That's it. One boundary. world of abundance.
And then listen to Eve's response in the next
chapter. When the snake asks her about the command,
she says, well, we may eat of the fruit of the
trees in the garden, but God said, you shall
not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the
midst of the garden, neither shall you touch
it lest you die. Hold on. Just one moment. God
never said do not touch it. Don't you hate it
whenever someone puts words in your mouth that
you know you did not say? And something has already
shifted because what it does is it proves something
inside of that person. You see the command has
grown sharper, heavier. It's been expanded. It
tells us not a lack of clarity on God's part.
It tells us something that was stirring in the
hearts of those people. The boundary, it felt
restrictive. The command was suspect, and the
goodness of God was being quietly questioned
and making the command harder to follow. You
know, when we think about how difficult it seems,
you know, we sometimes assume that Adam and Eve,
we sometimes assume they were set up to fail.
If we're honest, that's how life often feels
to us when temptations they feel Overwhelming
it's like it's right there The obedience it's
it's uphill somehow and we think of course eat
it who wouldn't come on But they're not the same
condition that we are We are born subject to
sin. They were not We wake up each morning with
our desires bent inward They did not We fight
impulses. We did not choose to have they were
created upright free able not to sin and yet
They still chose to That is what makes the fall
so weighty This was not weakness from corruption.
This was rebellion inside of freedom They had
every capacity to trust God's Word and instead
they trusted the whisper of questioning and temptation.
And when they did, something catastrophic happened.
Because original sin, it's not just that Adam
and Eve committed the first bad act. It's their
fall bent the entire human race. Scripture teaches
that we are born into that corruption. We're
not neutral. We're not just spiritual blank slates.
We're already curved away from God from the beginning.
That means that sin, it's not just the way that
we imitate those first parents. It's what we
inherit from them. You see, we are not sinners
as a result of our sins. We sin as a result of
being sinners. We inherit a nature that has corrupted
a will that distrusts God and a heart that wants
our own ways. See, that's why Lent is so exposing,
because when we try to discipline ourselves and
tell ourselves no to something, we discover something
very unsettling. The resistance to God, it's
not outside, it's within us. It shows up when
forgiveness feels optional But resentment feels
justified. That rebellion, that resistance shows
up when we pray for God's will, but quietly we
kind of prefer our own timeline. It shows up
when we replay conversations over and over in
our head instead of releasing them to forgive.
It shows up when we justify being impatient because
we feel overworked. It shows up in the quiet.
confidence that we would have handled the Garden
of Eden better. You know, we sometimes struggle
with that idea. You know, the idea that we've
inherited something broken. You know, we ask,
how can I be affected by something someone else
did? But we understand inheritance and everything
else, don't we? Children inherit physical traits
without choosing them. Eye color, bone structure,
predispositions to certain diseases, thank you
dad for cholesterol. Scientists, they even talk
about inherited patterns of behavior in animals.
You know, the puppies, they're born and they
already start trying to root around for milk
from their mom. And then the sea turtles, you
know, you see them flapping around on the beach,
you know, and they already start going toward
the ocean. How did they know to do that? Instinct
is passed down. Patterns are embedded. But if
we understand that physical life can carry inherited
traits, why is it so strange to think that spiritual
life does well? We are born into Adam's line.
Adam's line? It's fallen. This corruption, it
doesn't just touch our souls, though. It ripples
through all of creation. Our bodies break down
and frankly, they do not behave the way that
God intended. Our minds misfire. How many struggles
that we have psychologically that we cannot seem
to get past. The ground resists gardening. Our
relationships fracture. The world groans under
decay. Death was not part of the original design.
Disorder was not part of the original design.
Both are now woven into our daily experience.
See, we don't sin merely because we imitate Adam.
We sin because we're born from him. And that's
why we cannot fix ourselves. You see, if the
problem were just behavior, we could try harder,
work more. If the problem was only our environment,
well, let's just move. But the problem is inheritance.
The problem is nature, which means the solution
cannot come from within. in Adam's line, it has
to come from outside. So now, though, let's step
away from that garden for a moment. Let's go
to the complete opposite. We find ourselves in
a bare wilderness, leaving shade and abundance
for sun and hunger. And instead of Adam standing
beside a tree, Jesus is standing in the dust.
You see, the first Adam, he had a single boundary
and still pushed past it. But there's Jesus.
He's facing real hunger, real weakness, real
temptation, and He's still following what's right.
And so we have to ask, why does it matter so
much for Jesus to say no to these things? Because,
let's be honest, saints' temptations, they're
actually not ridiculous. They actually, you read
them, they seem kind of reasonable. See, You're
hungry Jesus. There's a stone. Just turn it into
bread seems pretty simple, right? What's the
big deal or? Just prove to everybody who you
are right look you just jump from the temple
the angels will catch you you can silence all
the doubters or Even if you just take the kingdoms
of the world now without going to the cross just
Just rule over everything already. You don't
have to suffer. See, every temptation, though,
it's whispering the same lie that we heard in
Eden. You can have the good things without trusting
the Father. You can grasp it. You can secure
it for yourself. And what does Jesus do? He refuses.
Why? There was a reason He was there. There was
a purpose to being in the wilderness. If he was
really hungry, he would have never gone out there
in the first place. Look, a reason for the fasting,
a reason for the hunger. He was not wandering
aimlessly. This was not a mistake. He was preparing
for the journey that was about to come. He was
consecrating himself to the Father's will. The
deprivation, denying what he wanted, was not
pointless. It was forming him for what was to
come next. And that's what Lent is supposed to
be for us too. You see, when we let something
go, it's not because the thing is necessarily
evil. In fact, it's usually better if it's not.
Bread? Not evil. Food? Not evil. Cookies? They
stick around a little too long, but inherently
not evil. Comfort is not evil. The issue is whether
we believe we need them more than we need the
Father. Lent is what peels back our illusions
about the things we want. It reveals how quickly
we justify getting them for ourselves. How easily
we say, what's the big deal? Six cookies versus
five. an extra drink, or maybe just giving in
to this addiction just a little too much. Just
this once, just a little compromise, just one
shortcut. And Jesus stands in the wilderness
and says no when Adam said yes. But you see,
he's not resisting as someone born into Adam's
corruption. You see, he's conceived by the Holy
Spirit. He enters humanity without inheriting
our corruption. He's not dragged by some inward
rebellion. He's free. And sometimes that almost
bothers us. Of course, Jesus was able to resist
temptation. He's God. That's not fair. But think
about what we're saying when we say that. That's
not fair. Imagine you're drowning in a river.
The current, it's stronger than you thought it
was going to be. You can swim, but somehow, your
limbs, they're giving out. You can't reach the
bank. And then someone, standing on solid ground,
throws you a line, braces themselves, and pulls
you out. And then, imagine you are coughing on
the shore, and you shout out, that's not fair!
That doesn't count. You weren't drowning like
I was. How absurd would that be to be upset that
someone was not drowning when they saved you?
See, you don't need another drowning victim.
You need someone who's standing without the current
sweeping them away. The only person who truly
knows the strength of temptation is the one who
never gave in and never would have in the first
place. See, the one who resists knows the full
force, but didn't succumb. See, Jesus does not
resist because temptation is easy. He resists
because He is strong in obedience, strong in
trust, strong in love for the Father. And here's
the Gospel heartbeat. He does it for us. The
first Adam stood in a garden bursting with life
and reached for what was not given. And in that
reaching, Everything cracked. Death entered.
Corruption spread. The ground resisted. The body
decayed. The soul focused on itself. And we protest
it's not fair. Why should we be subject to what
somebody else did? But if we're honest, what
confidence do we really have that we would have
done any better? We struggle daily to trust God
with far smaller commands, don't we? We rationalize
things, we soften our boundaries, we adjust the
wording, just like you did. We explain away rebellion
in ourselves while we still condemn everyone
else. If anything, our attempts to justify Adam
and Eve reveal how deeply their condition lives
in us. So the issue was never fairness. If God
were concerned with strict fairness, The story
would have ended in Genesis 3. Instead, from
the very moment of the fall, God was already
speaking promise, covering shame, marking out
all of the things that would have kept us from
mercy. Faith has always been the thread. Trusting
in His Word has always been the way. And then
the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. Not
to observe, not to sympathize from a distance,
but to stand where Adam fell. You see, Jesus
in the wilderness goes beyond what Adam was able
and willing to do in his mind. Let me say that
better. Jesus goes beyond what Adam was willing
to do because he was always able. But you see,
Jesus does not stop at resisting bread, spectacle,
and power. He goes all the way to the cross.
You see, when Jesus pulls us from the water,
we do not accuse Him for not drowning. He was
conceived by the Holy Spirit, not born under
Adam's corruption. He faces temptation without
bending toward the sin. He feels its full force
and does not yield. And we thank Him for not
letting us drown. Because now there's a new inheritance.
Instead of inheriting the corruption from Adam
and then being left with no hope, instead we
also inherit now the righteousness from the second
Adam by faith. The first passed down death, the
second passes down life. Instead of condemnation,
we are now given the obedience. of Christ Jesus
that is credited to us for righteousness. It's
not about fairness. It's about grace. See, fair
would have left us in the river. Grace sends
us God's son. And that, that is how we're meant
to be seeing Lent. It's not about competing.
Did you keep up with your sacrifice and someone
else didn't? Is there some spiritual scoreboard
and, well, another Lent on the scoreboard? It's
not about who sacrifices more or struggles less.
We're not measuring fairness. We're training
our hearts. We let go of unimportant things to
remember who never lets go of us. See, we may
not ever be able to truly understand all that
happens with God. But you see, we can surrender
comforts to learn that comfort was never meant
to be our Savior. We may feel the ache, but we
discover deeper satisfaction in our security
with Christ. See, some of us may wrestle with
temptations that others do not. Some of us carry
burdens that feel uniquely heavy. And again,
there's a little whisper that says, that's not
fair. No, it is not. But neither is the cross.
Neither is righteousness we did not earn. Neither
is inheritance we did not secure. Neither is
eternal life that was given freely to those who
trust. We are not walking in the wilderness alone
because the second Adam already walked it and
has already won the victory for us. You're not
in the wilderness to win something. You're in
the wilderness because Christ has already won
it for you. You're not negotiating an inheritance.
You already have one. You're not fighting for
righteousness. You've already been given it When
lent exposes you it does not threaten you it
reminds you of who your true Adam truly is now
So the first Adam gave you death the second Adam
gives you life and His victory is not fragile,
and it doesn't break when you stumble so in this
season of Letting go may we cling more tightly
to Christ not to our strength, not to our discipline,
not to our performance, to Him because the one
who stood in the wilderness for you still stands
for you even now. Thanks be to God.