Doing it his way
A Sermon for Lent 1 – 22 Feb 2026
Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7
Romans 5:12-19,
Matthew 4:1-11
Years ago, a very experienced priest from the Church of England was talking to a class I was in – at St John’s College – about the music that might be chosen for a funeral, particularly for that part of the service when the deceased is brought out of the church. He said that many requests from family members had been made to him over the years, for contemporary music. He was happy to entertain just about anything, but he drew the line at Frank Sinatra’s ‘My way’ – ‘I did it my way.’ Now you might think that Sinatra’s ballad is quite tame compared to other tunes that might rile a man of God; I think I would turn down any request for AC/DC’s Highway to Hell as a funeral recessional (and so, I suspect, would my former Dean), but what particularly agitated him with ‘My Way’ was the affront that the song is to the gospel as traditionally understood – which is about doing things ‘God’s way’ and putting one’s desires (and particularly one’s ego) to one side. That is precisely the way that Jesus lived and taught. It was the way of obedience, which Paul is at pains to highlight in the second reading this morning, from his letter to the Romans: ‘by the one man’s (Jesus’) obedience the many will be made righteous.’ (Roman 5:19)
That pattern of obedience has been at the core of Christian living ever since.
Paul, in another letter, this time to the little church in Philippi, was very explicit that the Christian task is to emulate the obedience that Jesus had to the Father; an obedience that had him surrender all his entitlements.
Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:5-8)
When we encounter Jesus this morning, which is straight after his baptism, the Holy Spirit leads Jesus away into the wilderness, away from public attention and into solitude, where his surrender to the will of God – which is already well advanced – is exercised (put to the test). He is tested physically (in terms of hunger and thirst), and psychologically or spiritually.
The first temptation is arguably the most physical of the temptations – since it involves the turning of stones into bread, and Jesus’ body, by this stage in the wilderness, would have been crying out for sustenance. Jesus resists the urge to satisfy his hunger before the time ordained by God and acknowledges the sustenance that is to be had by being attentive to God’s word. Jesus’ recognition of that truth came out of his spiritual grounding; had he not been close to God, the natural urge to eat would likely have led to him giving in to that first temptation.
Then the devil dares Jesus to demonstrate the faith he has in God by ‘pulling a stunt,’ jumping off the top of the temple in the hope of being rescued by angels– a more immature person than Jesus, self-focussed, deprived of food for so long, delirious with dehydration, might have taken the devil up on this dare; the result would not have been pleasant – as a move not prompted by the Father, it would likely have been as successful as any leap from a tall building. Jesus responds that to take that particular leap, would be to put God, unnecessarily, to the test. His surrender of himself – of his ego – to the Father, gave him the wisdom to make the right response.
Perhaps the most powerful test is the devil’s promise to give Jesus control of the world if he would only serve him rather than God. This is a test that many people over time have failed; some on a very big scale and many in less dramatic ways.
Thankfully for our sake, Jesus passed this test too, remaining determined, throughout, to do things God’s way, not his own way. And the Father’s way for Jesus was for him to forego worldly power.
Lent is about getting us back on track to doing things God’s way, rather than our way. That is why we try to pare down our lives and give things up (not to the extreme that Jesus did though) – not because we relish pain and discomfort – but so that we may focus just a bit more intensely on the main purpose of life, which is to serve God, who is love itself, and wants us to be loving people.
This message is a part of scripture as a whole, and not only the New Testament. It is expressed, with great force, in the words of the Prophet Isaiah which we heard on Ash Wednesday (Isaiah 58:1-12). Isaiah, speaking in God’s name, upbraids the people for ‘going through the motions’ of appeasing God through their religious practices, when what they ought to have been doing was furthering God’s desire to free people from oppression and exploitation, with them as his willing agents of liberation. We have to help set people free.
The first reading this morning is about the mother and father of humanity who chose to do things their way, rather than God’s way. Adam and Eve disobeyed God, and that pattern of disobedience has hampered the relationship between God and people ever since. Jesus Christ, who is presented as the new Adam in the second reading, by St Paul, restored that relationship through his obedience to the father’s will, an obedience that was tested unto death. Knowing what God’s response to that extreme obedience was (resurrection), we have all the motivation we need to do things God’s way too. That, I think, is what salvation is, namely, knowing – deep down inside – that goodness will prevail, and that those who love as God loves, have a future. With that hope in our hearts we can make a positive difference in the lives of other people because our concern won’t be for short-term gain, but for what is right,
for what is eternal,
for what builds up our neighbour and our neighbourhoods.
Tony Surman