Tested and True: The Temptation of Christ (Matthew 4:1-11)
But Jesus Christ is the obedient Son, and his righteousness is sufficient for us. When we have compromised and guilt weighs heavily upon us, we may confess our sins honestly and receive his forgiveness. When we have bowed before an idol, we may repent and return to the Savior who welcomes sinners.
February 22, 2026, Year A, First Sunday in Lent, Season of Lent
Matthew 4:1–11, Psalm 51:1–12, Romans 5:12–21
Grace, mercy, and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ be with you on this First Sunday in Lent.
Ash Wednesday marked the beginning of our forty-day journey toward the cross and the empty tomb. Many of us came forward to receive ashes on our foreheads, hearing those ancient words: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Those ashes are not meant to burden us with despair, but to ground us in reality, the reality of our mortality, the reality of our sin, and most importantly, the reality of God's mercy offered in Jesus Christ.
Lent is the Church's invitation to walk with Jesus into the wilderness. During these forty days, we devote ourselves to fasting, prayer, generosity, repentance, and preparation for the great feast of Easter. The season's color is purple, reminding us of penitence and the kingship of Christ. We bow low before God while remembering that, through faith in his Son, we have been received as his children.
Our Gospel reading this morning is Matthew 4, verses 1 through 11. This will be our primary text, though we will also draw upon our Psalm and Epistle readings. Matthew brings us to the beginning of Jesus' public ministry, where the beloved Son faces a fierce spiritual battle in the wilderness.
Matthew tells us in verse 1: “Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.” (Matthew 4:1, ESV) Notice carefully who does the leading here. Not the devil, but the Holy Spirit. The Spirit leads Jesus into the wilderness, where the devil comes as the tempter. God is not the author of evil, nor does he entice anyone to sin. As Saint James reminds us, God himself tempts no one to evil. Yet God, in his wisdom, permits this testing, and the Son willingly enters it in obedience to the Father.
The wilderness was not a mistake or a failure of divine protection. It was the appointed place where Jesus would confront the tempter. Israel had been tested in the wilderness for forty years and had repeatedly fallen into unbelief. Adam had been tempted in the garden and had disobeyed. Now Jesus, the true and obedient Son, enters the wilderness to stand where others had fallen.
Sometimes we think that if we are in a difficult place, if we are being tested or tempted, it means we have done something wrong or God has abandoned us. But the Father had just declared his pleasure in his beloved Son at his baptism, and the Spirit led that same beloved Son into the wilderness. Testing is not necessarily evidence of God's displeasure. We may find ourselves in circumstances where our faith is tried, and yet God remains faithful and present.
Jesus fasts for forty days and forty nights, and at the end he is hungry. His hunger is real. He has taken our human nature, with its genuine bodily needs and weaknesses, though without sin. Into that physical weakness, the tempter comes. Three times he attacks, and three times Jesus answers with the written Word of God.
The first temptation appeals to appetite and self-preservation. The devil says in verse 3: “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” (Matthew 4:3, ESV) The tactic is subtle. He challenges Jesus' identity. The Father has declared Jesus to be his beloved Son, and now the devil urges him to use that Sonship on his own terms.
There is nothing sinful about hunger. Nor would making bread be sinful in itself. Jesus will later multiply loaves to feed the multitudes. The temptation here is to satisfy a legitimate need by stepping outside the path of trust and obedience that the Father has appointed. The devil is pressing Jesus to treat his power as something to exercise independently of the Father's will.
It is the same strategy he used in the garden with Eve. He planted suspicion about God's goodness and his Word. Perhaps God was withholding something desirable. Perhaps the creature would be better off taking matters into his own hands.
We face versions of this wilderness in ordinary life. We may be tempted to misrepresent our finances because money is tight, to falsify a report because our job seems to depend upon it, or to compromise our conscience because we fear what will happen if we do what is right. The pressure is real. The need may be legitimate. But the temptation whispers that God's provision cannot be trusted and that obedience is a luxury we cannot afford.
Jesus answers in verse 4 with the words of Deuteronomy 8:3: “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” (Matthew 4:4, ESV) These are words originally spoken to Israel, reminding God's people how he had sustained them in the wilderness. Life comes from God. Bread is his gift, but bread is not our god. Jesus will not seize independence from the Father. He will trust him, even while hungry.
The second temptation shifts from appetite to presumption. The devil takes Jesus to the pinnacle of the temple and says in verse 6: “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down.” He then quotes from Psalm 91, promising the protection of angels. The devil has heard Jesus answer with Scripture, and now he uses Scripture himself.
Notice what is happening. The devil is not simply rejecting God's Word. He is misusing it. Psalm 91 celebrates God's faithful care for those who trust him. The devil tries to turn that promise into permission to manufacture a needless danger and demand a miraculous rescue. He takes a promise meant to encourage trust and makes it an excuse for presumption.
J. C. Ryle, in his book Holiness, warns about the deceitfulness of sin. Temptation rarely announces itself as our enemy. It often comes disguised as something reasonable, desirable, or even religious. Ryle compares its approach to the kiss of Judas. We must be watchful because a temptation wrapped in pious language is still a temptation.
Here the devil is asking Jesus to force a demonstration of the Father's protection. He wants Jesus to demand proof of what the Father has already promised. But faith receives God's promises in the way God gives them. Presumption insists that God prove himself on terms we have invented.
We can fall into the same error. We may neglect sound counsel and then expect God to rescue us from foreseeable consequences. We may refuse appropriate medical care while claiming that genuine faith requires a miracle. We may make reckless financial decisions and assume that God is obligated to cover the shortfall. None of this is the same as trusting God's promises.
There is also a connection here to the Third Commandment, which forbids taking the Lord's name in vain. We misuse God's name when we invoke his authority to justify what he has not commanded or promised. Yet the immediate sin in this temptation is more specifically putting God to the test. We are not called to make God prove his faithfulness by obeying our demands.
Jesus answers in verse 7 with Deuteronomy 6:16: “Again it is written, ‘You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.’” (Matthew 4:7, ESV) Notice those words, “Again it is written.” Jesus does not reject Psalm 91. He refuses the devil's distortion of it. Scripture must be understood in the light of the whole counsel of God. A promise cannot rightly be used to overturn a commandment.
That is important for us as we read our Bibles. Knowing isolated verses is not the same as knowing Scripture faithfully. We must hear what God is actually saying, rather than searching for words that appear to approve what we already want to do. The Lord Jesus answers temptation with Scripture properly understood and faithfully obeyed.
The third temptation is the most brazen. The devil shows Jesus all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. Then, in verse 9, he makes his offer: “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” (Matthew 4:9, ESV)
Here the mask drops. The devil wants worship, the glory that belongs to God alone. And he presents what appears to be a shortcut to royal power. The nations truly belong to the inheritance promised to the Messiah. But the devil has no rightful authority to give Christ his kingdom. His offer is a counterfeit, an invitation to gain glory through rebellion rather than through obedience to the Father.
The temptation is the crown without the cross. Jesus has come to establish his kingdom, but he will do so through the Father's appointed way. That way will lead through suffering, rejection, Gethsemane, and Golgotha. The devil proposes a kingdom purchased by idolatry. Jesus will receive his kingdom through obedience.
We know something of this temptation. We may be tempted to compromise the truth because it seems to promise influence or success. We may justify dishonesty because we imagine the good we could do with the money. We may place professional advancement above the worship of God and the care of those entrusted to us. We may even dress our ambitions in religious language, persuading ourselves that a desirable outcome excuses an unfaithful means.
In each case, the kingdoms glitter. We are shown what we might gain, while the cost to our worship and obedience is hidden. But whatever demands the allegiance that belongs to God alone has become an idol.
Jesus' answer is swift and final. In verse 10 he declares: “Be gone, Satan! For it is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God and him only shall you serve.’” (Matthew 4:10, ESV) There is no negotiation and no compromise. Worship belongs to God alone. Jesus will not turn aside from the Father's will, whatever glory the devil appears to offer.
Matthew tells us in verse 11: “Then the devil left him, and behold, angels came and were ministering to him.” (Matthew 4:11, ESV) Jesus has resisted the tempter. He has remained faithful where Adam fell and where Israel repeatedly failed. But we must also remember that this wilderness victory is the beginning of his obedient ministry, not the completion of his saving work. The path before him still leads to the cross and the resurrection.
Why does this matter so much for us? Because Jesus is the second Adam, the representative head of a new humanity. Paul makes this connection explicit in Romans 5. In verse 12 he writes: “Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned.” (Romans 5:12, ESV) Adam's disobedience was not merely a private failure. Through him, sin and death entered the human family, and we are all implicated in that fall.
But Paul continues with glorious news. In verse 19 he writes: “For as by the one man's disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man's obedience the many will be made righteous.” (Romans 5:19, ESV) Where Adam's disobedience brought condemnation, Christ's obedience brings justification. Where Adam's failure brought death, Christ's saving work brings life.
Jesus' obedience in the wilderness is part of that greater obedience. He is faithful not merely in these three confrontations, but throughout his earthly life, even to death upon a cross. He bears our sins and fulfills the righteousness that we could never accomplish for ourselves. And in his resurrection, we see the triumph of the obedient Son over sin and death.
This is where Psalm 51 meets us in our need. David wrote this psalm after Nathan confronted him concerning his terrible sin. David begins by crying out in verse 1: “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions.” (Psalm 51:1, ESV) He knows that no excuse, achievement, or religious performance can wash away his guilt.
Then, in verse 5, David confesses: “Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me.” (Psalm 51:5, ESV) His confession reaches deeper than the particular sins he has committed. It acknowledges the corruption of our fallen nature. We do not become sinners only when we commit our first outward act of disobedience. We are born into Adam's fallen condition, and from that condition flow our sinful thoughts, desires, words, and deeds.
That is why David's prayer in verse 10 is so profound: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” (Psalm 51:10, ESV) David does not ask merely for improved habits or greater determination. He asks God to accomplish within him what he cannot accomplish for himself.
This is precisely where the Gospel brings us hope. Through Christ, God grants us forgiveness and a righteousness that is not our own. We are justified by grace through faith, not by our works or achievements. And the same gracious God who receives us as righteous in Christ also works within us by his Holy Spirit, renewing our hearts and teaching us to walk in obedience. We must not confuse justification with the work of renewal, but neither should we separate the gifts of the Savior.
As we pray the Church's penitential prayers during Lent, we confess that we cannot deliver ourselves from sin. The Great Litany gives voice to that dependence with its repeated plea, “Good Lord, deliver us.” And as we prepare to receive Holy Communion, we are called to examine ourselves, repent of our sins, and trust in Christ's mercy rather than our own worthiness.
All of this might seem overwhelming, but here is the glorious truth: Christ has provided what we could never secure. David pleaded for cleansing, and in Christ we find the Savior who forgives and renews. Jesus stands where we cannot stand. He obeys where we fail. And he offers his righteousness as a gift.
Paul says it plainly in Romans 5:17. Those who “receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness” will “reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ.” (Romans 5:17, ESV) We do not earn this gift by resisting temptation successfully. We receive it by faith in the One who has obeyed perfectly on our behalf.
So what does this mean for us as we walk through these forty days, and indeed throughout the whole Christian life?
First, we must recognize the pattern of temptation and arm ourselves with Scripture. When anxiety tempts us to seize control through disobedience, we remember Jesus' answer about bread and the Word of God. When we are tempted to claim God's promises while ignoring his commands, we remember that we must not put the Lord to the test. When worldly success or comfort threatens to displace our devotion to Christ, we remember that worship belongs to God alone.
But Scripture is not a collection of magic words that makes temptation disappear when we recite them. It is God's living Word, through which he reveals himself, exposes falsehood, strengthens faith, and teaches us obedience. Our Lord did not merely quote Scripture. He trusted and obeyed the Father whose Word it is.
This Lent, let us commit ourselves to reading the Bible daily, not merely collecting verses to use in emergencies, but coming to know the Lord more deeply through his Word. Let us pray that the Holy Spirit will bring that Word to remembrance when temptation comes and grant us grace to obey it.
Second, we must reject shortcuts that promise good things through unfaithful means. Jesus refused the counterfeit crown because he remained obedient to the Father. We should reject superficial religion without genuine repentance, religious language used to excuse sin, and the notion that success can justify compromise. Christ has not called us to purchase God's favor through our obedience, but he has called those whom he has redeemed to follow him faithfully.
C. S. Lewis captures the danger of gradual spiritual compromise in The Screwtape Letters. Writing from the tempter's perspective, he describes the road to destruction as “the gradual one,” a gentle slope with no obvious warning signs. Sin does not always arrive in dramatic acts of rebellion. It may begin with small concessions that slowly turn our hearts away from the Lord.
Third, we can face our failures with hope. We have fallen where Jesus stood. We have sometimes used Scripture to excuse what we wanted. We have trusted ourselves rather than God, tested his patience, and placed other things above his worship. We are sons and daughters of Adam, in need of a righteousness we cannot produce.
But Jesus Christ is the obedient Son, and his righteousness is sufficient for us. When we have compromised and guilt weighs heavily upon us, we may confess our sins honestly and receive his forgiveness. When we have bowed before an idol, we may repent and return to the Savior who welcomes sinners. Our hope rests not upon our perfect performance in the wilderness, but upon his perfect obedience and finished work. The Anglican Church's Reconciliation of a Penitent is one way the Church ministers that Gospel of forgiveness to a troubled conscience.
That confidence also changes how we come to the Lord's Table. We do not approach because we have proved ourselves worthy. We approach as repentant sinners trusting in the mercy of God through Jesus Christ. He is the One who gives us life, strengthens us by his grace, and sustains us in the struggle against sin.
So let us not assume that the wilderness means God has abandoned us. He permitted his beloved Son to be tested, and through that testing Jesus demonstrated his perfect obedience. Our own trials are not equal to his saving work, nor does every hardship come as a direct assignment from God. Yet we can be certain that our Father has not forsaken us and that he can strengthen our faith even in difficult places.
Jesus has gone before us. He knows the reality of temptation, and yet he is without sin. He is therefore not only our example of obedience, but our merciful Savior and faithful High Priest. When we are weak, we can turn to him for help. When we have fallen, we can turn to him for mercy.
And when Easter morning dawns, we will remember that the wilderness was not the end of the story. The obedient Son went on to the cross, bore the judgment that our sins deserved, and rose in triumph over death. The ashes of Lent remind us that we are dust, but the resurrection announces that death does not have the final word for those who belong to Christ.
The second Adam has accomplished what the first Adam could not. Where sin brought condemnation, Christ brings justification. Where death reigned, Christ brings life. And where we discover our weakness, we find a Savior mighty to save.
I want to close by praying our Collect of the Day once more: “Almighty God, whose blessed Son was led by the Spirit to be tempted by Satan: Come quickly to help us who are assaulted by many temptations; and, as you know the weaknesses of each of us, let each one find you mighty to save; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.”
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
