The Tempations and Proximity to Power

The Tempations and Proximity to Power 2026-02-19T13:08:41-04:00

The Tempations and Proximity to Power
Photo by Brad Dodson

 

Jesus’ second temptation of being tempted to throw himself down from the pinnacle of the temple so that angels might rescue him takes place at the very heart of Jerusalem’s economic, political and religious system. Remember, there was no separation of religion and state in Jesus’ society. The heart of their religious system functioned much as a state capital does and much the same as Wall Street and our Federal Reserve do in terms of economics. So the Temple was not a random location. It was also the symbolic center of God’s presence, and in Jesus’ time it was deeply entangled with Roman power. The priestly elites collaborated with imperial authorities, benefiting from taxation, land control, and economic systems that extracted wealth from the poor while maintaining an appearance of divine legitimacy. Taking all of this together, this temptation is not simply about personal risk or spectacle; it is about using religion to sanctify religious, political, and economic injustice.

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This is Part 3 of the series The Temptations of Jesus and Our Justice Work Today

(Read this series from its beginning here.)

The devil in Matthew quotes Hebrew scripture, and suggests that God will protect Jesus if he leaps. This represents a temptation to perform a dramatic, religiously sanctioned act that would force God’s hand and win public acclaim from those invested in the temple system. Had Jesus accepted, he would have validated the temple’s authority and its claim to mediate God’s favor, even as it participated in exploitation. A miraculous display would have drawn crowds without challenging the structures that oppressed them. Jesus refuses, responding, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.” He rejects a faith that demands divine rescue while leaving unjust systems intact.

In the context of Roman occupation, this temptation exposes the danger of religious institutions aligning themselves with empire while claiming God’s protection. Jesus’ refusal signals that God is not impressed by religious spectacle divorced from justice, nor does God endorse institutions simply because they invoke Scripture or tradition.

This affirms what we read in Isaiah:

What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices?

says the LORD;

I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams

and the fat of fed beasts;

I do not delight in the blood of bulls,

or of lambs, or of goats.

When you come to appear before me, 

who asked this from your hand?

Trample my courts no more;

  bringing offerings is futile;

incense is an abomination to me.

New moon and sabbath and calling of convocation—

I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity.

  Your new moons and your appointed festivals

my soul hates;

they have become a burden to me,

I am weary of bearing them.

  When you stretch out your hands,

I will hide my eyes from you;

even though you make many prayers,

I will not listen;

your hands are full of blood.

  Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean;

remove the evil of your doings

from before my eyes;

cease to do evil,

  learn to do good;

seek justice,

rescue the oppressed,

defend the orphan,

plead for the widow. (Isaiah 1:11-17)

For our justice work today, this temptation warns against relying on performative faith or symbolic gestures that leave systems of exploitation untouched. It also challenges activists and faith communities to resist the urge to seek legitimacy, safety, or influence through proximity to power. Throwing ourselves from the “pinnacle” might look like trusting courts, politicians, or religious branding to save us while avoiding the costly work of solidarity with communities who are presently oppressed and working alongside them for structural change. Jesus’ response calls us instead to grounded, risky solidarity with the marginalized and a faith expressed not in spectacle, but in sustained resistance to injustice, even when there are no angels to intervene.

Finally, the last temptation in Matthew’s version, the temptation in which Jesus is offered “all the kingdoms of the world and their glory,” confronts the deepest allure of power. In this story, the devil presents domination as the fastest path to change: Take control. Wield authority from the top. Enforce justice through coercion. Jesus’ refusal does not reject justice itself, but rejects achieving it through empire’s tools, which often are not even an option for grassroots justice movements on the edges of our societies. Jesus refuses to bow to the logic that says liberation must come through domination, violence, or allegiance to unjust power structures.

In the context of the Roman Empire, this temptation is especially sharp. Rome already claimed the kingdoms of the world through military conquest, economic exploitation, and religious legitimation. To accept this offer would mean becoming a “better Caesar,” ruling more kindly but still ruling through Rome’s way. Jesus instead chooses a different path. This path was one that exposes and undermines empire rather than baptizing it. His response, “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him,” is a declaration that political orders built on oppression don’t deserve our loyalty. 

For social justice work today, this temptation remains profoundly relevant. Movements for justice are often tempted to seek change by compromising core values in exchange for proximity to power. They might silence critique to gain access, sacrifice marginalized voices for broader appeal, or adopt the same coercive tactics used by oppressive systems. Jesus’ refusal reminds us that the ends do not justify the means when the means replicate injustice.

In our justice work today, this story calls us to examine whom we stand in solidarity with, whose voices we center, what power we are willing to refuse, and why. True liberation comes from not from obtaining power at the expense of others, but distributing that power among the collective, with the presently marginalized being included, and with love and justice helping us choose justice without our becoming the very things we oppose.

 

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About Herb Montgomery
Herb Montgomery, director of Renewed Heart Ministries, is an author and adult religious educator helping Christians explore the intersection of their faith with love, compassion, action, and societal justice. You can read more about the author here.

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