Alone, hungry, tempted. Today we hear that powerful Gospel of Matthew – Jesus is led by the Spirit into the desert. And on this First Sunday of Lent, we are going to do something physical. We are giving each of you a stone to carry through Lent.
Why a stone? Because in the desert, everything is stone. Hard. Dry. Lifeless. And that is where Jesus goes. Not into comfort. Not into applause. Into the wilderness.
And what is the first temptation? “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become bread.” Turn stone into bread. Turn what is hard into something that satisfies you. But Jesus refuses. Because the deeper issue is not bread. It is trust. It is identity. It is the heart.
The devil tempts Jesus three times. Turn stone into bread. Throw yourself down and force God to prove Himself. Bow down and worship power. And beneath every temptation is this: “Take control. Protect yourself. Feed yourself. Prove yourself. Exalt yourself.” That is the stone. A stone heart says: I’ll take care of me. I don’t need God. I don’t need others. I will survive on my own strength.
And here is the hard truth: we all carry some stone inside us.
Resentment that is hardened. A grudge we have polished and protected. A habit we do not want to surrender. A prayer life that is dry. Compassion that has cooled.
The prophet Ezekiel gives us one of the most beautiful promises in all of Scripture: “I will take from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”
God does not just polish the stone. God replaces it. Flesh is alive. Flesh feels. Flesh loves. Flesh bleeds. Stone is safe. Flesh is vulnerable. And Lent is not about becoming tougher. Lent is about becoming softer in the right way – softer toward God.
When we fast, we feel hunger. When we pray, we face silence. When we give alms, we loosen our grip. All of it cracks the stone.
Think about Jesus in the desert. He is hungry – physically hungry. But He refuses to feed Himself apart from the Father. He chooses trust over control. Dependence over dominance. Worship over power. That is a heart of flesh.
So, this stone you receive today is not a decoration. It is not a cute Lenten symbol.
It is a question. What in me is still stone? Where have I hardened? Is it toward my spouse? My adult child? The Church? God Himself?
Maybe you are carrying disappointment. Maybe grief that never healed. Maybe anger at the state of our country or the world. Maybe exhaustion.
Over time, unhealed pain turns to stone. And here is the dangerous thing about stone: you stop feeling it. It just becomes normal.
Jesus goes into the desert to feel everything – hunger, weakness, vulnerability – and to let the Father be enough. Lent invites us to do the same. Carry this stone somewhere you will see it. In your pocket. On your desk. In your car. And every time you touch it, pray a simple prayer: Lord, where is my heart hard? And give me a heart of flesh.”
Because the goal of Lent is not spiritual achievement. It is transformation. On Easter, we do not celebrate improved discipline. We celebrate resurrection. And resurrection only happens to living flesh – not stone.
If we let God, God will take even our hardest places and make them tender again. And imagine what would happen in this parish if over the next forty days, hearts of stone became hearts of flesh. More patience. More forgiveness. More generosity. More trust.
The desert is not where we lose God. It is where we lose the illusion that we were ever strong without God. So, carry the stone. But don’t cling to it. Let God do what He promised. “I will remove from you your heart of stone – and give you a heart of flesh.” That is the real miracle of Lent.