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Father Chas Canoy

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This Lenten homily explores the contrast between Adam and Christ — the original Adam who fell to temptation and the New Adam, Jesus Christ, who conquers it. Father reflects on trust, temptation, the distortion of love through sin, and how Christ restores humanity to its original dignity. A powerful invitation to enter the spiritual battle of Lent with intention and hope.

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Good morning. Blessed Lent to everyone. What an intriguing juxtaposition of today’s first reading with today’s Gospel. The first reading is about Adam and his failure to resist the temptation of Satan. So if the first reading is about the original Adam, today’s Gospel is about the New Adam — Jesus Christ — and how the New Adam is successful in overcoming Satan’s threefold temptation.

Monsignor Albacete once said that ultimately there is only one temptation: the temptation to believe that the fulfillment of the desires of the human heart depends entirely on us. That is the root temptation — the belief that the deepest longings of our hearts depend solely on our own power.

Consider Adam and Eve. Up to that point, they had known nothing but God’s incredible love and provision. God gave them dominion over the entire garden of paradise — except for one tree. He said, “You are free to eat from any of the trees of the garden. But from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat. When you eat from it, you shall die.”

By forbidding that one tree, God was inviting Adam and Eve into a relationship of trust — trust in His design, trust that He would fulfill the desires of the human heart.

Then Satan enters the picture as the serpent. “Did God really tell you not to eat from any of the trees of the garden?” The tempter plants a seed of doubt. Though Adam and Eve had known only pure love from God, Satan frames the command in a way that suggests the forbidden thing would actually be good for them — not deadly.

Why would eating from the tree bring death? Because it would mean attempting to usurp from God a power that belongs to God alone — the authority to determine good and evil, life and death. If every man and woman claims that authority for themselves, the result is moral chaos and the disintegration of the human family. Sound familiar? That is spiritual death.

Eve initially resists the insinuation. She emphasizes God’s generosity: “We may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden. It is only the fruit of the tree in the middle of the garden that God said we shall not eat or even touch, or we shall die.” The tree stood in the center. Everything flows from the center. But when we try to take that place, we make ourselves the center. Imagine each person believing they are the center of everything — pride takes root.

Then the serpent replies, “You will certainly not die. Your eyes will be opened, and you will be like gods who know good and evil.” Every lie contains a fragment of truth. Yes, their eyes would be opened — opened to suffering, separation from God, and death that comes from rejecting trust.

And so the root temptation reappears: believing that fulfillment depends entirely on me. I begin to take rather than receive. This is why, at Holy Communion, we receive Jesus. We do not take Him; we receive Him — on the tongue or in the hand — as a gift.

Genesis tells us the woman took the fruit and ate it, and gave some to her husband. As St. Paul reminds us in Romans 5, through one man sin entered the world, and through sin, death. Their eyes were opened, and they realized they were naked. For the first time, they experienced shame.

Before the fall, they were naked without shame. After the fall, the darkness of sin distorted their vision. What had once been a gaze of pure love became tainted. Before, they saw the goodness of the other and desired the other’s good. They could be transparent and vulnerable. After the fall, love was tainted by lust.

God created them male and female so that in marriage they might sacramentally image the self-giving love of the Trinity. God’s innermost secret, revealed in Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit, is that God Himself is an eternal exchange of love — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — and He has destined us to share in that exchange.

But sin fractured that vision. They covered themselves not because their bodies were bad, but because their bodies are sacred. Love is willing the good of the other. The opposite of love is not merely hatred — it is use. To use someone is to seek my own good at the expense of the other.

This distortion has led to immense suffering in human history — fornication, pornography, adultery, divorce, trafficking, abortion, confusion, and exploitation. But God did not leave humanity there.

Enter the New Adam — Jesus Christ — who comes to rescue and renew humanity in the original image and likeness of God. The New Adam must face the same serpent. After forty days in the desert, famished and vulnerable in His humanity, Jesus is tempted. Yet He trusts completely in the Father.

At the end of the Gospel, after resisting the evil one, the angels come and minister to Him. God provides.

This Lent, I invite you to enter more deeply into that story. If you do not yet have a spiritual battle plan, I urge you to join The Rescue Project on Wednesday evenings throughout Lent at 6 p.m. Place it on your calendar.

Lent calls us to leave behind even good things so that we may say a greater yes to God. We fast from the good things of the world not because they are bad, but because they can distract us from entering the desert with Jesus. We say no so that we are free to say yes.

Amen.