I assume that everyone here has seen A Christmas Story?[1] It’s hard to live in the Cleveland area and not to know about the 1983 cult classic Christmas movie, and by now, with the Turner movie channel running it as a marathon every Christmas, to have seen it. Do you remember the character “Scut” Farkus? That was the bully who, accompanied by his toady Grover Dill, made Ralphie’s life miserable. Until, that is, Ralphie had simply had enough and exploded, knocked Scut down into the snow, and gave him a bloody nose. This morning, I’m going to try to convince you that that’s sort of what’s happening in today’s gospel lesson.
A rather standard way of preaching the Temptations of Christ is to say that Satan’s point is to raise doubts about whether Jesus is who he thinks he is by casting doubt on his relationship with God, and that Jesus’ rejections of the temptations “prove his identity as God’s divine and beloved son.”[2] I’m probably a heretic, but I don’t think that’s the point of this story at all; that not what this episode is about.
“You are the light of the world. … [L]et your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”
I’m sure you’re all familiar with Howard Thurman’s meditation entitled The Work of Christmas:
In any event, I know that Mother Lisa has been over all of that with them, so this sermon is not for them. It’s for you, their family and friends; it’s about their marriage, but it’s for you.
Do you all know what a tort is? Tort … T-O-R-T … no E on the end; I’m not talking about those wonderful little German or Austrian pastries. A tort is a civil wrong that causes harm to another person, resulting in legal liability for the person who commits the wrong. You leave a puddle of milk on the floor of your grocery store knowing it’s there, then someone slips in it and injures themselves: you have committed a tort. You speed through a stop sign, collide with another car, and injure the driver: you’ve not only broken the law, you’ve committed a tort.
A few weeks ago, as I was looking forward to my annual cover-Rachel’s-vacation gig here at Harcourt Parish, my plan was to preach a sort of two-part sermon on play and playfulness. Seemed like a good summer-time thing to do. Last week, on Pentecost Sunday, I suggested to you that playfulness is a gift of the Holy Spirit, that play is why we were made. Today being Trinity Sunday, I planned to follow-up with a few words about how a metaphor of play and playfulness can help us understand and participate in the relational community which the triune God is. 
Y’all know who John Wesley is, or was, I’m sure. The Anglican priest who founded Methodism? My paternal grandparents were Methodists and they really tried to make me into one but, for some reason, it didn’t stick. To this day when Evelyn and I visit a Methodist church, I will often turn to her as we are leaving and say, “There’s a reason I’m not a Methodist.” 
“Do you want to be made well? … Stand up, take your mat and walk.”
Let’s have a show of hands: everyone who believes that there is a Constitution of the United States raise your hand. OK, good. Now everyone who believes in the Constitution of the United States raise your hand. Some of you might be thinking, “Wait. Didn’t he just ask us to do that?” Well, no. There’s a difference between “belief that” and “belief in.” 
