​Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7 | Psalm 32 | Romans 5:12-19 | Matthew 4:1-11
​By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector

There is something captivating and grounding about the wilderness. It peels back everything safe and familiar. Our routines. Our noisy and busy lives. Our grievances and complaints. We find ourselves engaging with a much larger ecosystem. It has the effect of right sizing the scale and scope of our preoccupations, calming our nervous system, offering us clarity and focus. 

This is the kind of wilderness I often imagine in our gospel lesson. Recently, at a clergy gathering, the Rev. Rachel Field, facilitator of an Episcopal Path to Creation Justice, reframed the meaning of wilderness. She observed that wilderness in a biblical sense is not the same as our post enlightenment sense of wilderness as rugged aloneness. Instead wilderness is the margins of society. By following the Spirit into the wilderness, Jesus is entering into a deeper relationship with the margins of society. And throughout his ministry, Jesus will remain on the margins. 

In the wilderness, Jesus begins 40 days of self-examination, prayer, and fasting. Reflecting on hard questions: 
What does it mean to be God's beloved child?
What kind of leader is he going to be?
How will he use his power and authority?

Following these forty days, I imagine he had a greater sense of clarity and purpose. Similar to what we might receive after an extended time in nature or on retreat.  Matthew does not specify, instead telling us Jesus is now famished.  

It is during this liminal space, following forty days of prayer and fasting yet before his public ministry begins, that Jesus is tested. Matthew tells us the test was carried out by the ‘tempter’, later described as the ‘devil’ and ‘Satan’ (Mt. 11:3, 10). Matthew makes no other references to ‘tempter’, and uses ‘devil’ and ‘Satan’ twice more each. ‘Devil’ is used to describe the evil actions carried out by some in the Parable of the Weeds, and again in Matthew 25,
“...for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me” (Mt 13, 25: 41-42). 
These actions are in stark contrast with those of the Living God, whose Way is Love. 

Meanwhile, ‘satan’ next appears after Jesus is identified as God’s chosen servant, and some Pharisees suggest he is working on behalf of demonic forces (Mt 12). Jesus responds to the accusation by making it clear that it is only by the Spirit of God that Jesus is able to cast out demons. The second time is when Jesus informs his disciples that he will soon suffer at the hands of the most elite religious leaders, be killed, and rise again (Mt 16). Peter pulls Jesus aside, rebuking him, until Jesus interrupts, “‘Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling-block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things’” (Mt 16, 23). In each of these instances, Jesus makes it clear that everything he says and does is in service to God. Jesus casts out demons, heals, and proclaims God’s message of justice, mercy, and righteousness by the Spirit of God. 

Whatever we may make of the tempter, devil, or satan; however uncomfortable it makes us, we know there is evil in the world. We may not see a tempter in our daily lives, but we have seen evil. We see it in the most broken places of our world, where innocents needlessly suffer at the hands of those who ruthlessly abuse their power. While each and every person is made in the image and likeness of God, it does not mean we choose to lean into that identity as God’s beloved. We may judge those who act in evil ways now, but they were once innocent babes. We all have the capacity to turn away from God and increasingly towards selfish and evil ends. But when we choose God, we strive to turn towards goodness. We see God’s goodness and in our bones know a love stronger than death. We have seen that in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. 

But I am getting ahead of myself. Back to the tempter. 

When the tempter first appears in today’s gospel, Jesus is famished. He suggests that if Jesus is the Son of God, he could turn stones into loaves of bread. We know Jesus can perform such miracles, and on the Way of Love there is more than enough food for all who are hungry. Twice in Matthew’s gospel we see Jesus take a few loaves of bread and some fish, to feed thousands of hungry people (Mt 14, 15). In this instance, the tempter suggests Jesus use his God-given gifts to serve himself. Taking gifts meant for a greater good and misusing them. And not only that, but also taking the easy way out, forgoing the process. Snap one’s fingers and poof, immediate gratification. 

Our culture knows something about forgoing process and immediate gratification. How often are quick and easy solutions in service to God? How often do they better our world or care for creation? It seems more often than not they are in service of me, myself, and I. Minimizing our own discomfort, while at the same time perpetuating the capitalist machine that makes more and more money for the ultra rich. 

Jesus turns to the scriptures he leaned on during his time in the wilderness, telling the tempter, “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that  comes from the mouth of God” (Mt 4:4). 


The tempter then takes Jesus to the temple, bringing him all the way to the very top. He suggests, if you are really the Son of God, throw yourself down and God’s angels will save you. The tempter tests the fault lines of Jesus’ trust in God. Mirroring when Jesus is crucified, and the two bandits crucified next to him taunt, “‘If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross’” (Mt 27:40).  

We know something about forgoing trust for certainty, for proving ourselves. In the face of adversity and instability, we may fail to put our trust in God. Sometimes quite blatantly - negotiating with God, God if you do such and such, I’ll trust in you.  Or maybe a partial trust in God, occasionally turning to God in prayer.  All while faithfully and consistently turning to our smartphones, social media, and the news; or any number of instruments misused and mistaken for healing agents. Choosing distraction over trust in God. What might a day where we fully trusted God look like? 

Jesus again turns to the scriptures he leaned on during his time in the wilderness, telling the tempter,  “Do not put the Lord your God to the test” (Mt 4:7). 

Finally, the tempter took Jesus to a high mountain and offered him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. Jesus could have it all, if he would bow down and worship the tempter. All it would cost him was identity and his faith.  We know during those forty days, Jesus reflected on what kind of leader he was going to be, and how he would use the power God had given him. This was the moment of truth. Would Jesus choose selfishness, greed and power over?

We know something about those things too. Do we want to have it all? Do we want to control and drive things? If the answer is yes, we know we are fully human.  Yet as people of faith, we also know that the Way of Love shows us there is enough for all when we share out of our abundance. That much more good can be accomplished when we lean into the slower rhythms of collaboration and mutual respect. When we understand that every kingdom, every splendor belongs to God alone. 

Once more, Jesus turns to the scriptures he leaned on during his time in the wilderness, telling the tempter, “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him” (Mt 4:10). 

The passage concludes with the tempter leaving Jesus. Suddenly angels came and waited on him. God asks us to be faithful, to fully trust. In turn, God will provide. It will not be on our terms and conditions, but if we trust, it will be enough. 

Our call is to join Jesus on the Way of Love. Dedicating our lives in service to loving God, our neighbors, and creating a better world grounded in justice, mercy, and God’s sense of righteousness. Grounding our very lives in God. Striving to live into our faith day after day, hour after hour, minute after minute. Knowing that we are sometimes going to muck it up, and that’s okay. 
But we also need to know that when we muck it up, our relationship with God becomes distorted. This distortion can make it hard to see the truth of God’s redeeming love clearly. In turn, we stay away instead of reconciling and starting again anew. But starting again is not a punishment or a sign of failure. It is a gift, and a sign of faithfulness and our love of God. 

Our calling this Lent is to take seriously the work of self-examination and reflection.
How are we looking for the easy way out? 
Where are we only partially trusting in God? 
In what ways is God calling us to be more collaborative? 

We also might consider the questions Jesus’ reflected on in the wilderness:
What does it mean to be God's beloved child?
What kind of person are we going to be?
How will we use our power, authority, and privilege?

Wherever we are on our faith journey, whether we feel close to God or distant, know God is waiting for us. Eager and ready for us to trust fully. Amen. 

Exodus 24:12-18 | Psalm 2 | 2 Peter 1:16-21 | Matthew 17:1-9
By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector
​
This has not been a regular week, and today I do not have a regular sermon.

In the last three weeks, our faith community has experienced four deaths. All unanticipated. All held an element of surprise. Charlie Houghton’s death was especially shocking, as she was just with us last Sunday offering the reading from the Hebrew Scriptures. Just as on Monday evening she was with the Emmaus Companions Bible Study, and had plans to be with us at Tuesday evening Vestry and Wednesday morning Eucharist. She was deeply woven into the fabric of our community. 

We are still in the midst of the ripple effect of these losses. Experiencing compound grief. Reckoning with our complex feelings. Every death that touches our lives will stir in us what we loved, what drove us nuts, and our last experience with them. Our hearts may ache or feel for grieving families. We may desire to help or fix, when at this time all that is really needed is our presence and our prayers. Showing up, and standing alongside those grieving, and alongside our community as we experience this wave. 

I often tell those who are grieving that grief will have its way with you. Coming on when we least expect it. It is not unlike standing waist deep in the ocean. As the waves try to pass through us, we are sometimes knocked down by a wave that looks no different in size from the last, where we held our ground. Or the tide may take away the sand under our feet. In both cases we may end up suddenly and surprisingly under water.

Grief defies sense and logic. Even the death of someone that may be practically a stranger can disrupt us. Stirring up old griefs for losses we thought we had fully grieved. Losses of beloved animal companions, of life stages, of jobs, or circles of friends. Grief will have its way with us. Grief will also compound losses that are harder to define, whether that be:

• the loss of stability in our country;
• the loss of civility by our elected officials and neighbors;
• the loss of climate regulations and the pending impact. 

All this is to say, whatever you may be feeling today, it is a worthy offering that God is ready to receive, and hold with you. Whether you knew those who died these last few weeks or not, we all know loss and the accompanying grief. To experience the balm of Gilead, we need to hold space for grief, for sleep, for drinking water, for eating regular meals, for laughter, and for showing up in community, where we are reminded that our community journeys with us. 

Today we reach a turning point in our church year as Epiphany comes to an end, and we enter the season of Lent on Wednesday. A season where we are reminded of our mortality, where we set more time aside for God so we might tend our relationship and examine our lives. All to prepare for entering into remembrance of Jesus’ sorrows, suffering, and death during Holy Week. 

This week I heard commentator, Rolf Jacobson, reflect on a sermon given, many years ago by preacher Mark Throntveit.* Throntveit offered a contrasting image, that I would invite us to hold in prayer and reflection this week. The image contrasts Jesus’ last two mountaintop experiences. 

First, is the mountaintop experience of the transfiguration. Jesus has taken Peter, James, and John up a high mountain. There Jesus’ appearance is transfigured into a dazzling bright being; Elijah and Moses appear and are speaking with him. Peter, in an act of hospitality, offers their tents so Elijah and Moses might remain there with Jesus.  All as a voice from above proclaims, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well-pleased; listen to him!” (Mt 17:5) 

Yet the next mountaintop experience is on the hill of Golgotha. This time Peter, James, and John have fled and abandoned Jesus. Instead of Jesus’ bright, dazzling appearance, his body has been beaten, and his clothes have been taken away. This time, instead of standing and conversing with Moses and Elijah, Jesus has been crucified, and hangs on a cross alongside two bandits. Instead of a voice from above identifying Jesus as God’s beloved Son, it is a voice from below, as the centurion and those gathered cry out, “Truly this man was God’s Son!” (Mt 27:54)

In the midst of life, we are in death. This isn’t news. Almost every week, in our blessing we remember that life is short. Yet in the fullness of life - and doesn’t it feel increasingly full - we do not always hold space to talk with our loved ones about our wishes, to make a will, or plan our burial service. This year, in light of the deaths that have touched our community, I would ask that each of us take time this Lent to tend to this vital work. And since we are mostly procrastinators, I want to give us a deadline: Good Friday. 

To help you talk with your loved ones about our healthcare wishes, our Pastoral Care Team has provided some paper copies of Five Wishes (digital version for purchase). This booklet helps us explore:

• The person we want to make care decisions when we can’t
• The kind of medical treatment we want or don't want
• How comfortable we want to be
• How we want people to treat us
• What we want our loved ones to know

There are local attorneys who can help you make a will or create a trust, including Western Mass Estate Planning in Shelburne Falls and  Grubber & Tripp in Greenfield. Or if you cannot afford to work with an attorney, use a free digital platform like FreeWill.

To help you plan your service, there are hard copies of our form, Funeral Instructions & Other Final Matters, as well as the accompanying Service Samples & Information Packet and you can also find them on our website. 

Taking the time to do this work is the final gift you can offer your loved ones. 
It makes impossible decisions more easeful. Please take the time to do this work, however inconvenient it may be, however young and healthy we may feel, before Good Friday. And if turning something in helps us avoid procrastination, send me an email to say the work is finished or to keep a copy of your burial plans on file. 

As we look from the mount of transfiguration towards the hill of the cross this Lent and Holy Week, may we lean into our grief and discomfort in order to have hard conversations and make plans. So we might live that much more fully knowing our loved ones understand our wishes and plans.  Amen. 



* https://www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/1068-transfiguration-of-our-lord-february-15-2026

By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector

​Before Jesus’ public ministry began, he set out for Judea to be baptized by John. At his baptism, he has a transcendent experience of God. The Spirit then led him into the wilderness for forty days and nights. 

These experiences inwardly changed Jesus. He emerges from the wilderness - as we often do - with a clearer understanding of who he is, and more importantly whose he is - God’s beloved Child. Having accepted this truth, Jesus has fully embraced his ministry as the living embodiment of God’s reign of love. 

When Jesus returns to society, he does not go back home to Nazareth. Instead he moves to Capernaum and makes a new home in this fishing village by the sea. There he proclaims: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near” (4:17). 

The translation of the Greek word ‘metanoia’ to the word ‘repent’ stirs up conversation amongst commentators. While we understand ‘repent’ in English to mean remorse, sorrow, or regret, that definition is not in keeping with the meaning of the Greek word ‘metanoia’.* Nor does metanoia translate as ‘to turn around’, which is what the Hebrew word often translated as ‘repent’ means.* Rather ‘metanoia’, means something more akin to ‘change one’s mind’, or ‘change one’s heart’, or to ‘change one’s perspective.’*

Jesus’ proclamation may leave us wondering: What does it mean that the kingdom of heaven has come near? At the end of today’s gospel we see the meaning more fully:  “Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people” (4:23).  This text goes on to say: “And great crowds followed him from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea, and from beyond the Jordan” (4:25). 

In light of this, we might better understand Jesus’ proclamation to mean:
Change your hearts, for God’s healing reign of love has come near. 

As people experience Jesus and his ministry they are changed by God’s love. Very quickly there is an unstoppable movement of followers - and as we know even the cross, an instrument of torture and death - will not stop this Jesus movement. 


Seeing the urgency and the great need for God’s love in this world - then and now - makes it easier to understand why the disciples accept Jesus' invitation. Jesus said to them: “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people” (4:19) And they do. They leave their nets, their boats, even their families. Their hearts and minds have been changed by their encounter with the living embodiment of God’s reign of love and they are ready to spread the Good News. 

When we choose to be baptized or confirmed, when we reaffirm our faith as a follower of Christ, we generally do not need to walk away from our lives in quite the same way. Yet in committing our lives to help further God’s reign of love, we are expected to change our perspective, particularly from that of the dominant culture.  We are called to leave behind our ambitions, agendas, and egos; to surrender our will for God’s will; to forgo the patterns of selfishness and self-hatred. And then we are expected to do the wildest thing of all. We are called to love ourselves as God loves us, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. Because love is the way God’s reign can be most fully known and experienced. 

There is one more piece of today’s text that is especially interesting. Matthew makes a point to remind his listeners that Galilee was once the ancient territory of Zebulun and Naphtali. A region which has a rich history as an ethnically diverse mix of Jewish and Gentile communities.* Those who called this region home were accustomed to living under Roman occupation, just as their ancestors living in the region endured Assyrian occupation.**The Assyrians exiled Israel’s leadership.*** Just as in Jesus’ time, Jewish leaders had to submit to Roman rule, if they were to continue in positions of leadership.***


Matthew goes on to quote the prophet Isaiah. In our lesson from the Hebrew scriptures, we get to hear this passage more fully:****

    “The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness--
on them light has shined…
For the yoke of their burden,
and the bar across their shoulders,
the rod of their oppressor,
you have broken as on the day of Midian” (9:2,4).

God abides with them and will break the rod of their oppressor. This promise was a glowing ember for the people of Israel during Assyrian occupation. Just as the promise held during Roman occupation, and speaks truth to us even now. Assuring us that God is always with us, and willing our world, and us, to bend towards justice.
While Matthew draws upon Isaish to highlight the way these verses are fulfilled in Jesus, it may be more helpful to think of God’s fulfillment in stages:

• Beginning with the promise of God’s abiding presence, as described in Isaiah; 
• Embodied in Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, as seen in Matthew; 
• Continuing with the Spirit’s movement in and through the Church and God’s world, as seen in Corinthians, and in our own lives. 

The work of bringing about God’s reign of love began in creation, and the work will go ever onward until time is no more. 

Because as long as there is mortal life, there will be death. And as long as such death remains, the threat of it will be used to dominate, control, and oppress others. As was seen in the Assyrian and Roman occupations, as was seen in Nazi Germany, and as we are seeing right now with ICE, Customs, and Border Patrol. Faith leaders will mark today as day 53 of ICE’s occupation of Minneapolis. 

Last night, the Rt. Rev. Craig Loya, offered more words of wisdom since those I shared last week. He reflects on the state of things, and shares how those living beyond Minnesota can help bring about God’s reign of love at this tender moment. He writes:

“Things are impossibly hard in Minnesota right  now. We are a state that feels under siege, and the people of this place are doing everything possible to resist…

“But there is also something much more powerful,  and not as widely reported, happening. We are mobilizing for revolutionary love. Vast networks of care, compassion, and solidarity, organized by churches to deliver food and supplies to those who cannot leave their homes. People are documenting the violence being used against us in a way that puts their own lives at risk. People are standing guard outside schools and daycares, and at bus stops to protect our children from real risks of harm.... A rich web of underground care and hidden love is taking deep root, and it’s amazing to think what fruit that might bear when this occupation ends…

“Minnesotans cannot do more than we are doing. Here are a few ways you can help. 

1) Please flood your US senators with appeals to not to further fund ICE, by rejecting a bill the US House has already passed. Please flood all your members of congress with calls for deescalation in Minnesota; for ICE, Customs and Border Patrol, and other federal agents to leave Minnesota now; and to write and pass legislation that requires proper and extensive training for all those working for the federal government in our states and local communities.

2) Organize peaceful demonstrations in your cities and communities…What is happening to us here is happening to all of America, and it is eroding the last remaining threads of our democracy. Minneapolis and Minnesota have been a model for the entire country over these past two weeks, with tens of thousands standing together in deep cold to peacefully protest the violence being used against us. 

3) You can help nurture the Diocese of Minnesota’s primary engine of underground care and subversive love by donating to Casa Maria, which is providing much-needed food, supplies, and community to those rightfully afraid to go about their daily lives amidst the violence…

“The greatest danger we face right now is not the very real threat to our safety. It’s not even the erosion of democracy. The greatest threat we face as a nation is the assault being waged on hope. We must not give in to despair. We must not be consumed by the very justified anger we feel. The only way hatred can be effectively resisted is doubling down on love. The only way darkness can be defeated is light. The only way the forces of death can be overcome is by embracing, every moment of every day, God’s unstoppable life.” *****

The revolution of love Bishop Loya describes in Minnesota reminds us what God’s reign of love looks like, and it is how perspectives and minds are changed. It is how God’s will helps us bend towards justice in the long moral arc of the universe. And more immediately, for those moved to do so, he has offered some concrete ways to take action in addition to our prayers.  As we prepare to head back out into a bitter cold world today, let us reflect with a greater sense of urgency than we might normally, what it means to embrace God’s unstoppable love, and to embody God’s reign of love right here, right now.  Amen. 

Scripture Text:
Isaiah 9:1-4 | Psalm 27:1, 5-13| 1 Corinthians 1:10-18 | Matthew 4:12-23

* Working Preacher Podcast, https://www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/1065-third-sunday-after-epiphany-january-25-2026, accessed 1/24/2026. 

** Anna Case-Winters as quoted in The Christian Century, January 2026, “January 25 Third Sunday after the Epiphany”, p. 29. 

*** The Christian Century, January 2026, “January 25 Third Sunday after the Epiphany”, p. 29. 

**** Collin Cornell, Commentary on Isaiah 9:1-4, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-after-epiphany/commentary-on-isaiah-91-4-7, accessed 1/24/2026.

***** Craig Loga, Facebook, https://www.facebook.com/craig.loya, accessed 1/25/2026. 
Episcopal News Service story about it here. 
Donations can be sent to the address below or made here. 
ST. NICHOLAS EPISCOPAL CHURCH
& Casa Maria Food Shelf/Food Share
7227 Penn Ave S, Richfield, MN 55423