Lent 1; February 10, 2008; Bethel Lutheran Church, Rochester.
Genesis 3:1-7.

Dear Friends in Christ, Grace to you and Peace, from God our Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ. AMEN.
   

Nelson Searcy tells of a study that was conducted about the best tasting ice cream. Members of the control group were blindfolded and given all kinds of vanilla ice cream to taste—quality brand ice cream, gourmet ice cream, homemade ice cream, cheap ice cream and everything in between.
   

It didn't matter if it was gourmet, brand name, or homemade ice cream, "The number one determining factor was the percentage of fat in the ice cream. In other words, the more fat that was in the ice cream, the more people liked it."
   

    As Searcy stated, "Now, isn't that one of the ironies of life? Why can't fried chicken, which happens to be my favorite food, be as good for you as an apple? I have never heard a doctor say—'A fried chicken leg a day will keep the doctor away.' The reason they don’t say that is because if you had fried chicken every morning for breakfast, it would probably keep the doctor nearby because your cholesterol would shoot up. I guess I'll have to settle for apples."
    Ice cream isn’t a big draw for me. But I know some of you would join me in a meal of hamburgers and French fries! Why isn’t anyone tempted by steamed broccoli? Okay, there might be someone out there. But while I see a lot of ice cream shops and fast food joints, I don’t note a lot of money being made on steamed broccoli—unless it is beef and broccoli at a Chinese restaurant, and even then we put it on fried rice!

    Nelson Chamberlain tells of a tragic event that he heard about when he was in college. He spent his summers working on road crews in western New York State. Many of the men that he worked with had been in some rough places and had had some unusual experiences. One day as they sat in the construction shed eating lunch, one of the men told of working far back in the hills of Pennsylvania.
 

    As the men drove their truck up and down a winding mountain road, they would often see a young boy fishing by the side of a small lake. On one day in particular, as the men drove down to the small backwoods town below for lunch, they stopped to ask the youngster how the fish were biting. He replied that the fish weren’t biting at all, but the worms sure were!
   

    The men on the work crew were still laughing when they stopped at the local gas station and told the owner what the boy had said–“the fish weren’t biting at all, but the worms sure were!” They were more than surprised when, after a moment’s thought, the gas station owner got a panic-stricken look on his face and raced for his own pickup and headed up into the hills.
 

    Not long after that he came back into town with the unconscious body of the boy by his side. The “worms” in his can, you see, were not worms at all, but dozens of baby rattlesnakes that the boy had taken, by mistake, from their nest.
The boy had been bitten on the hands and fingers many times, and since the venom of a baby rattlesnake is every bit as poisonous as that of an adult, the young boy died soon after.

Sometimes temptations can be small—they might even look like worms—but they can be as deadly as rattlesnakes. And even worms aren’t so harmless. Have you ever wondered how a worm gets inside an apple? Perhaps you think the worm burrows in from the outside. Actually scientists have discovered that the worm comes from the inside. How does it get there? An insect lays an egg in the apple blossom. Sometime later the worm hatches in the heart of the apple, then eats his way out.

Our temptations start from inside of us—from a heart that isn’t pure. That doesn’t excuse us for our sins. It simply explains the source—our sin comes from us—we can’t blame it on the economy or the government or our boss or the weather. And we are to do something about our sin.

Two men were watching a western on television. As the hero rode on horseback toward the edge of a cliff, one man said, “I bet you $50 he goes over the cliff.”
“You’re on,” said the other man. The hero rode on straight over the cliff.
Being a sportsman, the second handed over the money. The first man looked at it and said, “I feel guilty about winning this. I’ve seen this film before.”
 

    “So have I,” said his friend, “but I didn’t think that cowboy would be stupid enough to make the same mistake again.”

Sometimes that is the way we deal with sin. We do the same thing over and over again, even though it is as disastrous as riding over the edge of a cliff!

Many years ago there was a famous man who, by the time he died, existed in relative obscurity. His name: John Profumo, former Minister of War for Great Britain.
 

    Profumo’s downfall began on the grounds of a grand English country estate where he watched a beautiful young woman emerge from a swimming pool. He asked who she was. He was told her name was Christine Keeler, a prominent English call girl. Profumo was so smitten with this young woman that he began a secret relationship with her. Unknown to him, however, she was also conducting an affair at the same time with the Soviet naval attaché in London a member of the KGB. When the story finally broke and Profumo’s part in the whole affair was exposed, it became the most sensational scandal of the 1960s.
 

    Profumo immediately resigned from the government. But curiously, he did not hit the talk show circuit, he did not contact Oprah to tell his side of the story, he did not sell his account to the National Enquirer, he did not seek a huge advance from Random House to spell out all the lurid details. In contrast to so many of today’s celebrities, he never sought public sympathy. Rather, he understood how his recklessness had brought embarrassment to his wife and country and almost brought his government down. Not long afterward, he contacted a charitable mission in the East End of London, and asked whether they needed any help. This blue blooded British aristocrat and long standing member of Parliament started washing dishes and helping with the children’s playgroup. He would remain there for the next forty years. He disappeared amid the grimy tenements of east London and did good works till he died, and never again did he utter another public word. That was his way of achieving personal redemption for the public shame he had caused.
 

John Profumo took responsibility for his sin. He did not blame God. He did not blame society or his parents. He took responsibility. This is always the first step in dealing with any transgression. Call it what it is: Sin. Not a mistake. Not simply being human. It is sin. It is the worm in the human heart burrowing outward.

When challenged for his sin, Adam blamed Eve. When challenged for her sin, Eve blamed the serpent. They fell to temptation. Yet God cared for them. Eventually God would make garments of animal skin—leather—for them, since they were ashamed of their nakedness after their sin.

We do well to see the consequences of temptation and sin in this season of Lent. And we do well to follow the example of Jesus in the gospel who three times was tempted by Satan, but three times spurned the devil’s driving force.

It is that Jesus whom we follow in Lent to the cross. Adam and Eve are instructive for us. Jesus is redemptive for us. May the worm eating at your soul be replaced by the fruit of the Spirit in Christ. AMEN.