Naked Before God
In this sermon for the First Sunday of Lent, we explore the vulnerability of being truly human and the difficulties of hiding behind masks of perfection. Drawing from the story of Jesus in the wilderness, we are reminded that the Word of God is near us, in our hearts and on our lips, even when we are stripped of everything else. This Lent, let us challenge ourselves to confront our nakedness and embrace who God calls us to be: fully human.
The Glimpses of Grace podcast is a ministry of Grace Episcopal Church in Gainesville, Georgia. We are passionate about supporting the spiritual growth of souls, and we hope these sermons and conversations meet you where you are and enrich your soul as we all continue to make meaning in the world today.
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Transcript
Ash Wednesday is one of my favorite liturgies.
This past Wednesday, many of us stood at the threshold of Lent,
wore the mark of ashes on our foreheads,
and asked ourselves:
What does it mean to live a life that practices our faith?
The readings on Ash Wednesday echo a call to return to God,
to turn away from false gestures, from the shallow motions of our every day.
We’re asked to reflect on our lives, our very practices:
our hearts, our actions, our thoughts, our words…
all woven together in the rhythm of our very being.
Lent invites us to a time of deepening our hold on what matters.
It’s a season where we strip away the distractions of life
and come before God as we truly are.
Yet, there’s a test in this process of stripping down,
of facing our vulnerabilities.
The season of Lent is not about achieving more or becoming something we’re not
—it’s about confronting the truth about who we are.
“The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart.”
In today’s Gospel reading from Luke, we witness Jesus in the wilderness,
facing tests, and yet emerging strengthened by the fullness of God’s truth.
Let’s explore that wilderness, that confrontation with vulnerability,
and how we’re invited to confront the nakedness of our souls:
The account of Jesus’ testing in the wilderness appears
in Mark, Matthew, and Luke.
Mark’s story is exceptionally short—only two verses,
situating Jesus in the wilderness with Satan, wild animals, and angels.
Scholars believe Matthew and Luke pull from the same source,
their narratives are very similar.
While they differ in their sequence, they are similar in their setup and wording, and include a combination of the same three tests—
Following his Baptism, Jesus is led by the Spirit
into the wilderness where he fasts for forty days.
He is alone. He is hungry. He is vulnerable.
In the wilderness, the devil appears and presents three tests—
1) turn stone into nourishment for your body.
“If you are the Son of God…then prove it. Use your power for yourself.”
2) claim power over the kingdoms of the world.
“If you worship me, I will give you all authority and glory.”
3) prove God’s protection by casting yourself from the highest point of the temple.
Each of these tests is about control—about power,
about hiding behind something to assert one’s worth.
But Jesus responds not with displays of power but with the word of faith.
He doesn’t need to prove himself. He knows who he is.
He knows the Word of God is near him—on his lips and in his heart.
For many of us, there is no greater fear than being naked in front of others.
Our bodies, our true selves, are fragile.
There are so many unrealistic, artificial bodies in the media and online—
faces, shapes, and sizes that we’re told we should strive for.
And so, the realness of our own bodies becomes embarrassing, even mortifying.
The scars, the lines, the imperfections—
these things we hide because we fear rejection,
because we’re taught that to be accepted we must hide what’s real.
We’re expected to present a polished, curated version of ourselves.
We hide behind work, behind productivity,
behind the roles we play in our relationships.
We hide behind our fears, our insecurities. We hide behind our scars.
We fear that if the world sees us for who we truly are, perhaps we’ll be rejected.
I think of Adam and Eve in the garden.
We fear that if we stand before others (even God) without covering,
we will be exposed, and we will not be enough.
But Lent urges us not to hide, not to cover up,
but to confront ourselves in all our rawness.
It’s a time to take off the layers we build to protect ourselves
and to stand before God and before ourselves.
It’s a time to be stripped of the things that we hide behind and to
recognize the nearness of God.
“The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart.”
Perhaps we fear what we might find if we allow ourselves to be…human.
But the truth is, it is only in confronting our nakedness
that we can begin to experience the healing that God offers.
As Jesus did in the wilderness, it’s a difficult thing to resist the tests
of power, control, and the illusion of perfection.
It’s a difficult thing to resist the lies of the world,
the expectations that we must be something we’re not.
What does human look like? Jesus, in the wilderness, shows us.
To be human is not to be perfect, to be flawless,
or to control every aspect of our lives.
To be human is to embrace the fullness of our frailty, our imperfections…
the awareness that we are absolutely dependent on God.
To be human is to be vulnerable enough to be loved…to heal.
Jesus didn’t enter the wilderness to prove his worth.
He was led by the Spirit to embrace his humanity, to face the very things we fear
—hunger, loss, exposure, rejection—
and he did so with God’s Word in his heart.
He was naked before God, and in that nakedness, he found strength.
This Lent challenge yourself, not to be more of who the world is calling you to be:
thinner, younger, more productive, more powerful.
Not even to be more of who your family or community is calling you to be.
No, challenge yourself to be naked before God and before yourself.
Challenge yourself to confront who God is calling you to be: human.
“The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart.”
Let’s not hide behind the false images of who we think we should be,
but authentically stand before God.
It’s in our nakedness that we encounter the truth of God’s love.
And it’s through the word of faith that we find the strength to be fully
and unapologetically human, embraced by the God who made us—
naked, open, and ready to be made whole again. Amen.