“And [the devil] said to [Jesus], “All these I will give you, if you will bow down and worship me.”” (Matthew 4:9)
Baudelaire wrote more than a century ago that “The devil’s finest trick is to persuade you that he does not exist.” That feels to me like commentary on today’s news, and yet on the first Sunday of Lent, the Gospels refuse to let us look away. They lead us into the wilderness to the place where Jesus meets the devil face-to-face. And if we’re honest, we’ve been meeting him too, far more often than we’d like to admit.
Perhaps I’m particularly conscious of the demonic at the moment because I’ve been reading “Nobody’s Girl” by Virginia Roberts Giuffre—the autobiography of the woman who was at the heart of Jeffrey Epstein’s sex‑trafficking empire. It is a brutal book, and if you’re thinking of reading it, let me warn you that there are details in the book that, once you’ve read them, you can’t unread, and indeed, the poor woman’s story has left me with images that I’d rather not be carrying.
And the more that story is unpacked, the darker it becomes. It begins with the sexual exploitation of children, and then allegations surface of ritual violence and occult practices. You may have seen the interview with Anya Wick, who says she is Epstein’s niece and claims that their entire family secretly worships Baal. Whether or not her claims are true, the fact that such allegations even sound plausible tells you something about the moral fog we’re living in.
But the most concerning allegations in the Epstein files aren’t about ritual or even sexual abuse. They’re about blackmail—about powerful men compromised and controlled. And it raises the frightening possibility that decisions affecting millions of lives may be shaped, not by wisdom or justice, but by fear, coercion, and corruption.
It does all leave you wondering how someone who goes into office with high ideals and a desire to make a difference reaches that point where they make their deal with the devil – where they hear the whisper, “All these I will give you…” and they bow?
How does anyone get to that point? How, for that matter, does an innocent schoolgirl end up at the centre of Epstein’s sex-trafficking empire? How, for that matter, did our global system ever develop to the point where compromised men can give orders that cost the lives of millions and millions of people and can do so knowing full well that they will never be held accountable for their actions?
The answer, I believe, to all these questions is the same. It happens one step at a time, and the first step towards catastrophe is often a very small one.
The devil says to Jesus, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread” (Matthew 4:3). It doesn’t sound particularly demonic. Who would be harmed? Would it derail the universe for Jesus to have a meal? Probably not. It would simply be a small indulgence – a minor deviation from Jesus’ fast.
But small steps shape trajectories. We know the words of traditional wisdom:
“Sow an action, reap a habit.
Sow a habit, reap a character.
Sow a character, reap a destiny.”
Is that what Jesus was doing—shaping destiny through a small act of self-denial?
The second temptation raises the same questions: “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down … “ (Matthew 4:6)
If the devil was right, and Jesus was living a charmed life at that stage, what would it have hurt for Him to put His Heavenly Father to the test? A small test. A little spiritual thrill. Jesus refuses, as it takes Him down a path He does not want to take.
In the third temptation, the devil shows his hand, I think. The initial part of the offer sounds good – the tempter shows Jesus “all the kingdoms of the world and their glory” (Matthew 4:8), and he says to him, ” All these I will give you” (Matthew 4:9).
So far, so good, we may think. Who could do a better job of managing all the kingdoms of this world than Jesus? Even so, the sting is in the devil’s tail (so to speak) as he adds, “if you bow down and worship me”, and Jesus won’t go there.
I fear, though, many of our leaders made that bargain – not in one dramatic moment, but inch by inch, compromise by compromise, until they found themselves on the mountaintop with the devil, signing a contract they’d never intended to negotiate.
Sow an action, reap a habit
Sow a habit, reap a character.
Sow a character, reap a destiny
Journeys into hell begin with a single step, but so do journeys toward holiness!
We’re at the beginning of Lent. In my old parish of Dulwich Hill, we had a wonderful parishioner there in her 90’s who would testify each year that she was giving up sex for Lent. Most of us don’t follow the old tradition of giving something up for Lent, as it seems trivial or quaint. But perhaps we’ve underestimated the power of small steps.
Why not take one small step in the right direction this Lent? Why not practice a little self‑denial and give up chocolate and put the money we would have spent on that small indulgence toward relief work in Gaza, not because chocolate is evil, but because small acts shape habits, and habits, character, and character, destiny.
Our world is in a precarious place. Evil is real, and God is going to need an army of people who have not bowed the knee to Baal. So why not use these forty days to take a spiritual inventory of our souls, to clear out the clutter, to strengthen the muscles of faithfulness, and so to take the next right step in the right direction?
For if the road to hell is paved with tiny compromises, the road to God’s Kingdom is paved with tiny obediences—small acts of courage, small acts of generosity, small acts of truthfulness, little acts of love—and if enough of us take enough small steps in the right direction, then even in our dark world, the light will continue to shine.
First published on Father Dave’s blog – February 21st, 2026
