At the risk of making this sound like a middle or high school term paper, Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, Tenth Edition, defines covet as, “to desire (what belongs to another) inordinately or culpably,” or, “to feel inordinate desire for what belongs to another.” Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, simply put, to covet is to desire that which is not yours, be it some concrete object or something more abstract, such as power and authority or fame and reputation.

Much as marijuana had been described in the past as a gateway drug, covetousness is a gateway sin. It was once said, and may still be, I’m uncertain, that using marijuana opens the floodgates to the use of harder and more dangerous narcotics. I don’t think that that can be said in every case, and perhaps there are numbers that can show that as in more and more places, marijuana is used medicinally and even recreationally without legal ramifications in some places. In any event, whether it can be said of marijuana or not, I refer to covetousness as a gateway sin.

I brought the hymn up last week, and here’s why… “[Though hordes of devils fill the land,] or [Though devils all the world should fill,]” you sang just a little while ago. Don’t they ever? It’s what you heard in two of this morning’s readings.

You heard of Satan, often called the Great Tempter, as he tempted Jesus in the Gospel today. Before that, you heard of his temptation of Eve (and even Adam) in the Old Testament lesson. Temptations are always crafty and surreptitious; that’s the way the Great Tempter works them. He always waits for the most opportune time to tempt his victims. Usually, it’s when the victim is at his or her weakest, the time when the person will put up the least resistance. Satan likes to win, so he plays when he has the advantage, or thinks he has the advantage.

The partying over, it is now Lent, a season of the Church year which goes against almost everything that the world out there, given over to Satan, wants to teach. Here is a season of somber reflection and contrition. Here is a season dedicated to mourning over sin. Here is a season of sacrifice. All the while, the rest of society would want to fill your heads with thoughts that everyday will be happy and carefree. It is given over to the doctrines of gluttony and greed.

And lest anyone think that this is something new, the world has always held to these doctrines, from the time that the serpent tempted Adam and Eve through to today. And it will continue for ages to come, until Christ returns.

That’s why you hear the prophet proclaim in this evening’s Old Testament reading, “Return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; and rend your hearts and not your garments.; Return to the LORD your God…” Sackcloth and ashes are fine, but the point is introspection which leads to a God-given contrition—rending of one’s heart. After all, as it is stated in tonight’s Psalm: “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.” Such introspection should be heartbreaking, gazing upon the things that you have done but should not have and the things that you should not have done but did. For such introspection, according to the Word of God, will reveal your sin—that dirty, little word, as the world out there wants to think of it, if it has to think of it at all. If you are not heartbroken, then you are only deceiving yourself, and the truth is not in you. (cf. 1 John 1:8) “If we say we have not sinned, we make [God] a liar, and his word is not in us.” (1 John 1:10)

Today’s text is just past halfway through St. Matthew’s Gospel, and it has reached a turning point. Jesus has begun to teach His disciples that He must suffer many things and be rejected, that He will be killed and in three days rise again. And He said this: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (Matthew 16:24-25) In other words, death and resurrection is the only way.

Peter, the man who had just confessed Jesus to be the Christ, the Son of the living God (cf. Matthew 16:16), responded with rebuke. That’s no way for the Messiah to talk. He’d rather not hear about death and resurrection. His words are every man’s words, every man who prefers miracles and signs—mountain-top experiences as it were—to the simple, weak-appearing, seemingly ineffective Word and means of God.

Jesus attention has turned to Jerusalem, however, fixed on His own death and resurrection for His disciples…for the world. They weren’t sure what to make of it. This wasn’t the kind of thing they left their lives behind for in order to follow Jesus. Maybe more signs and miracles would have been nice.

Today’s text is a continuation of last week’s, part of the Sermon on the Mount, where you heard Jesus speak the Beatitudes, “Blessed are you…because of me.” You have life; you are at peace with God through His Son, through His death and resurrection. Jesus has given Himself to you. He is your Savior; He has forgiven you for all of your sins.