I was already a priest for over a decade when I joined the military. Officer Development School came as a shock. I had lived with the rights and privileges of the priesthood, addressed as Reverend Father, and accustomed to a certain independence and routine. Suddenly, I was sharing a room again, surrounded by people from every walk of life. Enlisted sailors and drill instructors, younger than me, were yelling, giving orders, making me do push-ups, roll in the mud, and finish meals in under fifteen minutes. More than once, I quietly wondered if I had made a mistake by joining the U.S. Navy.
Over time, however, something became clear. That experience was not meant to break me; it was meant to reveal me. I was deliberately removed from comfort, stripped of distractions, and pushed beyond convenience, not as punishment, but as preparation. Training does not exist to humiliate; it exists to clarify identity, discipline, and purpose. Only after that kind of testing can responsibility be trusted.
That is why Lent begins not in a garden of flowers, but in a wilderness. Not with comfort, but with hunger. Not with applause, but with temptation. Today’s Gospel passage opens with a surprising line: “Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil.” Notice that he was “led by the Spirit.” Temptation is not an accident here. It is part of the mission. Before Jesus preaches, before He heals, before He calls disciples, He faces the devil. Why? Because identity must be tested and clarified before mission can be trusted. He was identified at his Baptism as the Son of God; now that identity is undergoing a test.
The devil’s strategy in today’s Gospel is remarkably consistent. Three temptations. Three times the devil begins the same way: “If you are the Son of God…” That’s the hook. The devil is not questioning Jesus’ power. He is questioning his identity. “If you are who God says you are, prove it. Perform. Protect yourself. Take control.” And that is how temptation has always worked.
In Genesis, the serpent does the same thing to Adam and Eve. He does not begin with disobedience; he begins with distortion. “Did God really say…?” He plants suspicion. He reframes God as restrictive, not loving. And once identity is shaken, disobedience follows easily. The first sin is not eating fruit; it is forgetting who they are and who God is.
Fast forward to today. Not much has changed, except the packaging. The devil no longer shows up as a snake in a tree. He shows up as a voice in your head at 2 a.m. He shows up in the pressure to create an image, to stay relevant, to be impressive; to never be weak. He whispers, “If you really mattered… If you were really strong, smart, beautiful… If God really cared…”
The season of Lent exists to unmask those lies. Look at the first temptation. Jesus is hungry. Really hungry. Forty days without food. And the devil says, “Turn these stones into bread.” On the surface, that sounds reasonable. What’s wrong with meeting a legitimate need? But the temptation is not about bread. It’s about using power to avoid dependence. Jesus refuses. He answers with Scripture: “One does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.” In other words: “I will not reduce my life to appetite.”
That hits close to home. We live in a culture that teaches us to silence discomfort immediately: scroll on your phone, snack, buy, distract. Lent pushes back and says: sit with hunger long enough to discover what you are really hungry for. Sit in silence long enough to hear God whisper how much he loves you.
The second temptation moves to the temple. The devil quotes Scripture, poorly, but confidently, and dares Jesus to throw Himself down so angels will save him. That is, “Force God’s hand. Make Him prove Himself.” This is the temptation to use religion as leverage, to turn faith into a performance or a safety net. Jesus refuses again: “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.”
The third temptation is the most revealing. The devil shows Jesus all the kingdoms of the world and says, “I will give you all this, if you bow down and worship me.” It is the temptation to take a shortcut. Glory without sacrifice. A crown without a cross. Jesus shuts it down completely: “Get away, Satan. You shall worship the Lord your God and Him alone shall you serve.” And here is the quiet but powerful detail at the end of the Gospel: “Then the devil left Him.” Not because the devil was outmatched, but because lies lose power when identity is remembered.
The Responsorial Psalm, Psalm 51, puts words to our Lenten prayer: “A clean heart create for me, O God.” Not a polished image. Not a busy schedule. A clean heart. Lent is not about self-improvement projects; it is not a weight loss program, it is about reorientation, remembering who God is, and who we are in relation to God.
Here is the good news: Jesus does not face temptation so we can admire him from a distance. He faces temptation to show us the way through it. He answers lies with truth. He resists shortcuts. He stays rooted in the Word of God. And because he has gone into the desert first, our deserts are no longer places of defeat; they are places of decision.
Lent will bring moments of hunger, frustration, and exposure. Old habits will surface. Weak spots will show. That is not failure; that is honesty. The devil wants you to think Lent is about willpower. God wants you to know it is about knowing and accepting who you are in relation to God. So here is the thread that ties this season together: Remember who you are. You are not what tempts you. You are not your worst habit. You are not the voice that accuses you. You are a beloved child, and you do not need to prove that identity; you just need to trust it.
This Lent, don’t just give something up. Take something back. Take back silence. Take back Scripture. Take back honest prayer. Take back the truth when the lie shows up and says, “If you were really God’s child…” Because you are. And that is why Lent ends not in the desert, but at an empty tomb.
Homily for 1st Sunday of Lent Year A 2026
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