Nothing quite says “Hurray! It’s Lent!” like the Great Litany with which we began worship this morning.  Subdued yet audible groans leaked from the mouths of choir members last Wednesday as they were reminded of the liturgical way in which we would be entering into the Lenten season today.  Visitors in previous years have been known to ask with wide eyes after worship, “Do you do that long thing every Sunday?” Even long-time members who forget from year-to-year about the litany have reportedly wondered, “What’s so ‘great’ about the Great Litany?”

As one worshipper from another tradition once told the pastor after having sung the litany in the congregation, “Well that about covers everything!”

Indeed, with the ashes of this past Wednesday smudged on our brows and with their accompanying reminder to “Remember that we are dust, and to dust we shall return,” we continue a more profound entry into this season of springtime in the church this morning, painfully aware of our deep human brokenness, poignantly aware of our forgetfulness of God, perplexfully aware of our proneness to wander and to get off-track and off-center.

With the backdrop of the gospel reading from St. Luke which tells the story of 40-day testing of Jesus in the wilderness, we enter into these 40 days of Lent having just named about every trial and test known to humankind: we have prayed for deliverance from all sin, all error, and all evil, from war, bloodshed, and violence, from corrupt and unjust government, sedition, treason, and from epidemic, drought, famine, fire and flood, earthquake (hello), lightening and storm.  We have prayed for justice and peace in all nations and that our own (might I add) partisan country might be preserved from discord and strife. Our prayer included women currently in childbirth (or perhaps nigh unto it), and all families — be they nuclear or other — currently in discord.  We have prayed for support, comfort and guidance for all orphans, widowers and widows. And we have even prayed for forgiveness for our enemies, our persecutors, and our slanderers — those who have said nasty things about us — and to reconcile US to THEM, and not the other way around.

It’s no wonder we bristle at this litany. We hate it. It is an affliction. It is time of trial in itself.  It is … a test. A test of our spiritual will.

We all go through seasons of testing, of trials, and of temptations. The old gospel hymn asks “Have we trials and temptations? Is there trouble anywhere? We should never be discouraged; take it to the Lord in prayer. Can we find a friend so faithful who will all our sorrows share? Jesus knows our every weakness — take it to the Lord in prayer.”

Jesus knows our every weakness. He knows yours. And he most certainly knows mine.

Jesus knows our every weakness because Jesus has been there. For no sooner had he been baptized, no sooner than the Holy Spirit had descended upon him as he stood in the Jordan River praying and about to be dunked by the Baptizer John, no sooner had he heard the voice from heaven which declared “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased,” Jesus was led into the wilderness where for 40 days he was tempted — the Greek word peirasmos is perhaps better translated “tested”. But let’s be clear, since St. Luke is very clear: and since the words on the front of this morning’s bulletin are in such large print: “Jesus was led by the Spirit in the wilderness.”  But even the bulletin cover skips a phrase between the words “Jesus” and “was led” — very important words. Luke writes, “Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan, and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tested/tempted by the devil.”

None of this Flip Wilson “the devil made me do it” crap.  Jesus’ time in the wilderness is Holy Spirit-driven, it is baptismally-based, and it is Word-empowered, for in all three testings the devil plays second fiddle to the word of God which trumps Satan’s test every time. With the waters of his baptism barely drying on his skin, with the promise of the voice from heaven still ringing in his ears, and with a soul filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus is led by that the same Holy Spirit into his 40-day time of testing.

As we are led by the Spirit to enter into these next 40 days of Lent, I can think of no more powerful words to pray continually than those from the Great Litany which include these petitions, “From all sin, from all error, from all evil; and from the cunning assaults of the devil: Good Lord, deliver us.” And in even more graphic words, we prayed: “To beat down Satan under our feet, to accompany your word with your Spirit and power; to raise up those who fall and to strengthen those who stand: we implore you to hear us, good Lord.”

None of the readings today or even the prayer of the day imply that we can face these tests if only we would have the spiritual strength and stamina to do so, if only we would but gird our loins and muster up our inner fortitude, if only we could just be good enough & spiritually-fit enough to endure the tests. No. Every word from scripture today reminds us it is God who is our source and our stronghold; it is God who is our refuge, our rock, and our rescuer; it is God who guards and guides our every step. God’s Spirit will see us through the wilderness ahead.

Every reference to God in the first reading is one of direct action toward God’s people: God gives them their land, God chooses the place for them, God hears their cries, God sees their affliction, their toil, and their oppression. God delivers and brings them into places filled with milk and honey. The people of Israel are only asked to acknowledge what God has done for them: to remember to return to God and to give thanks.

Psalm 91 reminds us that not only in the light of God but even in the shadow of God we will find shelter and strength.

And, even as the word of God was on the lips of Jesus as he met every test of the devil, so too St. Paul reminds us in the 2nd reading that the very same “word is near you, on your lips and in your heart,” and reminds us of the promise that God is not stingy in the least but rather is generous to all who call upon him, reminding us of the promise foretold by the prophet Joel: “I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh, and everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved.”

In a few moments, we will yet again find ourselves praying that ancient prayer taught by Jesus, a prayer which includes the petition “Save us from the time of trial.” It would be naïve of us to expect that by praying this prayer we would be spared all the difficulties and tests that come from being human, and perhaps a more honest way to pray would ask to be saved in the time of trial. If you would, take your red hymnal and turn to the very back, to page 1164 where you will find the Small Catechism of Martin Luther and his explanation of the sixth petition of the Lord’s Prayer.

In closing, like a good class of attentive confirmation students, I’d like to invite you to read outloud Luther’s explanation and take these words with you into the 40 days ahead, words which teach and tell the truth: we will be tested, there will be times of trial, we may well be attacked but God will keep us, the Spirit will lead us in our wilderness, and we will be brought safely through to the promised land.

Save us from the time of trial. What does this mean?  “It is true that God tempts no one, but we ask in this prayer that God would preserve and keep us, so that the devil, the world, and our flesh may not deceive us or mislead us into false belief, despair, and other great and shameful sins, and that, although we may be attacked by them, we may finally prevail and gain the victory.”

We implore you to hear us, good Lord.