The Temptation to Ruin

“The devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendour; and he said to him, ‘All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.”

This is the third and last temptation of Jesus the Khristós by the devil. The devil is the enemy of God, thus becomes our enemy, as well.

Previously, we explored the meaning of the name Lucifer and how it is an impulse within each of us that can be aligned toward God or carry us away from Him.

Lucifer is not the devil. The devil is not something that is in us to be sacrificed, it is a presence that we invite to walk with us on our journey. We are not enslaved to sin; the devil tempts us into sin. There is no accident in Scripture, “Then was Jesus led up of the spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil.” Jesus is with the devil because He is being led by the Father, through the Spirit.

When we walk the Way temptation will strike, the devil will strike, sin will strike. It is so inevitable that Jesus, Himself, became tempted—because of His humanity.

The Khristós is tempted every step of the way to Calvary, He did not walk so that we do not have to, He walked to show us how. Temptations shape our character, they shape our ministry, and they shape our relationship with God.

The Khristós ministry is defined by His days in the desert and by the temptations He faced. Jesus, through His trials, shows us something valuable about temptation: the devil is a street magician.

His parlor tricks and stage patter are on full display tempting the Son of God, first, to show His power—make these stones bread if thou art the true Son of God.

Jesus rebukes him.

“Then the devil taketh him up into the holy city, and setteth him on a pinnacle of the temple, And saith unto him, If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down: for it is written, He shall give his angels charge concerning thee.”

Jesus rebukes him a second time.  

The devil, the street magician shows his hand, here, because he is not doing anything except tempting. He cannot cast the Son of God down; he cannot force God to turn stones to bread. He can only suggest, and though the suggestion may sound like a command, it is still only a temptation.  

The temptations are second to where they take place. In the second temptation the devil takes Jesus to the holy city, the Kingdom and placed Him at the top of the pinnacle of the temple.

There is a temptation for those who sit at the top of the temple, or any tall building, to look down on the people below. There is the temptation for hubris and with it, an anxiety of what one might lose. The temple, for the Khristós, represents what His ministry will look like, and His rejection of this temptation shows us a God who would rather mingle with us sinners, would rather walk with us, and would rather be with us than set Himself up as one who waits for us somewhere in the heavens.

God does not hold the keys to the kingdom ransom. He comes to us and gives them out freely.

Jesus says to the devil, when tempted to cast Himself down to be saved by the angels who have charge over Him, “Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.”

Tempt in Greek is ἐκπειράζω, pronounced “ekpeirazó,” and it means to test thoroughly, to try. Jesus is tested here by the devil, preparing to be tested by the world.

The Pharisees are antithetical to the Way, they themselves are tempted by their position at the top temple in the holy city and they refuse access to others, if the temple is a mooring-rope between God and His children, then they are deciding who those children are—dividing the people between who is right with the law and who is not. This is where we ourselves run into trouble, because when we are holding on to what little we have, or even when we have a lot, there is a temptation to cling tighter to it by contorting the law for our benefit.

When we believe we hold the keys to the kingdom then it is in our interest not to let them into another’s hands, so we establish ourselves as an authority. “You said in your heart: “I will ascend to the heavens; I will raise my throne above the stars of God. […] I will ascend above the tops of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High.”

Like. Like the Most High. Not the Most High.

The third temptation of the Khristós shows the devil performing his stage-magic closer, taking Jesus up to an exceeding high mountain and offering all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them.

Something interesting is happening, the devil is taking the Khristós to the pinnacle of the temple then to the summit of a high mountain—these symbolize the eternal principle of God, they point to the Heavens, they guide our eyes up, to Him.

The mountain is a symbol of God, the mountain is not God.

The devil will take us where we never thought we could go; he will take us to heights we never imagined, and he will make us feel like God. He will instill in us to want to be like God, but when we walk with the devil all that we do, all that may appear to us, is an illusion.

Parlor tricks.

The devil cannot grant us what is not his to offer, that’s why his wording is important—the world is yours… but first, fall and worship me. The kingdoms, like the mountain he climbs only appear eternal. The devil uses the symbols of God to tempt us to fall, but he can only offer us a vanity of vanities. The devil can only offer what he is: malicious nothing.

When we walk with the devil we are walking in the shadow of death, Sheol. It is to return to dust which the serpent eats. Worshiping the devil is being consumed by him, a sacrifice of ourselves to our coarse passions and base nature that keep us tethered here, in torment, always fighting for more and worried about what we lack.

In the shadow of death everything is an illusion of glory and ascent; we must fall in order to acquire what the devil offers. “All these I will give you, if you fall down and worship me.” Falling is turning away from God—if μετάνοια, or metanoia—means opening our minds to the reality of God and His kingdom then sin and worshipping the devil is turning away from Him, closing our minds to Truth.

Falling is taking a step back, holding onto what lies behind, and becoming entangled here on earth, just as dust. Falling can also be not taking that step toward God and remaining stagnant, collecting material and egotistical bells and whistles. It is a stubbornness and is shown through the agenda of the Pharisees, who are an extension of the Tower of Babel.

The Tower of Babel narrative paints a picture of Man, constructing a tower, attempting to meet God at His doorstep. An attempt at a confrontation of Man and God. The building of the tower shows Man trying to be like God while trying to pull Him down to our level.

The story represents man’s hubris and anxiety. We build towers and we climb mountains contorting God to something separate from us, the walls guard us from others—the walls define the boundaries of Other. The walls echo our thoughts and actions creating patterned behavior.

This is the shadow of death, the cyclical nature of the life of a sinner. We are consumed by our own need to control things and hold to an identity. When we cling to the past, when we cling to power, when we cling to worldly goods, we are in a state of… arrested development. 

Cue Ron Howard’s voice:

The Tower of Babel is a crab of buckets.

It is felled by God in scripture. It is absolute chaos; the men are split into tribes and their language is divided. This is not the “wrath of God,” it is a product of building our towers to separate us from other. At its worse the tower is built representing our will, trying to make our achievements stand the test of time.

Hubris. Anxiety. Vanity.

This contortion of God is a projection of the image of the ineffable, it is trying to apprehend Him, then building monuments in reverence to this projection. This is idolatry. 

We are made in His image, not the other way around. 

What is made in the image of man is vanity, falls and becomes dust, and will be consumed by the serpent.

Si comprehendis, non est Deus