“Then the Devil took him to the holy city and stood him atop the highest point of the Temple. And there said to him, ‘If you’re the son of God, throw yourself down. It’s written, isn’t it, that the Divine Messengers themselves have been commissioned to take you up in their hands to keep you from even stubbing your foot on a rock'” (Matthew 4.5-6).
Who’s the real and who’s the persona in the case of Superman? Is he Clark Kent, the reporter and son of Pa and Ma Kent or is he the strange visitor from another world who can fly, bend steel, and outrun a bullet? Is he the man in glasses or the one in the cape?
The Tempter takes Jesus to the pinnacle of the Temple in the heart of Jerusalem. If it helps, you can think of them at the top of any tall, public building where hundreds if not thousands are gathered at any moment on the streets below. Perhaps he’s atop the buildings in the center of Times Square or at the peak of the Washington Monument. At that height, he’s just a speck against the sky. And the Evil One says, go ahead and jump. Take that big step into the empty air and fall. Right here, in front of all these people, show everyone what you can do; because, you know how they’ll react to a man who can call angels to break his fall.
The Devil is no fool. The Tempter wouldn’t suggest this if they didn’t think that’s what would happen. They know there’s no temptation in the impossible. The whisper of it here means that Jesus had the power, just as he did to bring sight and hearing, to command the angels to break his fall.
And why not? Why not rip off this facade of being a poor kid from the suburbs? Why not let himself be seen for what he’s capable of, for all the power he has within him? Who’d dare challenge him then? They’d come running from miles around.
But to see whom? Clark Kent or Superman? Would they come for the man or the otherworldly visitor? For the person who looked and ached and lived like they did or the being who the powers of this world could not stand against?
John’s Gospel closes with the statement that if Jesus’ actions were to be written down, there would not be ink enough in the sea. Had he dared to give into temptation and begun to display the incredible power within him, do you have any doubt that everyone who was able would have drained the oceans to tell of those deeds? Like Superman, there would have been pages and songs and plays recounting his feats.
But would anyone have remembered a word he’d said? Amidst the spectacle and display, would anyone have recounted the wisdom that spilled from his lips? That he told them that they were loved, and they were called to share that love? That love was the hope of this world?
Would they have remembered the man in the glasses or just the one with the cape?
Incarnate One, when tempted you did not give in to spectacle or stunning displays. Instead you chose to walk uneven roads, daring the danger of stumbling and falling. This week, help me be brave enough to walk in places where I, too, may stumble.