Cross in the field - Lent Sermon - St Andrew's Church Walkerville
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Sermon – Lent 1 – The Picture Within the Frame

Lent 1 – The Picture Within the Frame

Sermon Preached by Reverend Tracey Gracey on Sunday, 22 February 2026

Sometimes the way we look at something is shaped by what surrounds it.

An example is a painting.
The frame isn’t the artwork,
but it does shape how we see it.
It influences what we notice first,
and where our attention goes.

And sometimes a frame can become so heavy,
or so attention-grabbing,
that we end up staring at the frame
and missing the painting altogether.

but it does shape how we see it.
It influences what we notice first,
and where our attention goes.

And sometimes a frame can become so heavy,
or so attention-grabbing,
that we end up staring at the frame
and missing the painting altogether.

A good frame does two things:

  • it holds the picture
  • and it directs our attention to what matters

This morning, we once again hear familiar stories from Genesis, Romans, and Matthew’s account of Jesus in the wilderness.

These stories have often been framed so that sin, the reality of human brokenness, becomes the first thing we notice, and the picture inside becomes harder to see.

Sin is not just named, it has been enlarged, until the frame can feel bigger than the picture itself.

And when that happens, humanity can begin to be seen as the problem.
That humankind is not good enough.
That we are failures.
That we are always falling short.

And we can begin to imagine that this is the picture God sees when God looks upon humanity.

So we start to feel distant and alienated from God.
Unsure of our relationship with God.

And in many ways, that is exactly the scene that has been framed in the garden — Adam and Eve hiding, covering themselves, unsure of where they stand.

Or have we been staring at the frame for so long
that we have missed the picture within it?

Genesis does not begin with sin.
In fact, this story never even uses the word “sin.”

It begins with gift.
God creates a world of beauty and abundance,
and places humanity in the garden,
not as prisoners, but as caretakers.

The first picture is not failure.
It is belonging.
It is trust.

And then there is one boundary —
not as a trap,
but as a reminder that to be human is to live with limits.

The serpent enters, and the first temptation is not wickedness.
It is suspicion:
“Did God really say…?”

A niggling question that suggests God cannot be trusted.
That God is withholding.
That what has been given is not enough.

And that is where sin begins —
not simply in disobedience,
but in mistrust.

And what happens next?
Adam and Eve hide.
They cover themselves.
Shame enters the human story.

Sin makes us step back from relationship.
Sin makes us unsure of where we stand.

And yet, here is the deeper picture:
God does not abandon the garden.
God comes looking.
God remains present.
God even clothes Adam and Eve.

The frame may include fear and brokenness.
But the picture is not condemnation.
The picture is a God who continues to seek and care.

And yes, Adam and Eve do leave the garden.
Life cannot remain the same once fear and mistrust has entered in.
But even outside the garden, God does not leave them.
Paul, in his letter to the Romans, widens the frame of sin even further.

For he speaks honestly about sin entering the world.

Paul is not trying to weigh down humanity with guilt.
He is not painting a picture of blame.

He is speaking of sin as a power.
Something that enters, spreads, and takes hold in a community.

He is naming something we recognise:
That brokenness is not only personal.
It is collective — something that human beings can get caught up in.

But Paul’s focus is not meant to stay on the frame.
Paul’s focus is the picture.

Because Paul says something astonishing:
The gift is greater.
What God gives outweighs what is broken.

Sin may be real.
The frame may be heavy.
But it is not the whole artwork.

He insists that God’s restoring love is larger than human failure.

That what comes through Christ is not simply a response to sin, but a new beginning for humanity.

That in Jesus, God steps directly into the human story —
not to condemn it,
but to heal it,
to restore it.

The picture, Paul says, is not condemnation.
The picture is Jesus Christ —
the one who refuses to let separation have the final word,
the one who carries humanity back toward God,
the one who shows that brokenness will not be the frame that distorts the picture.

And the picture comes even more clearly into view when Jesus is led into the wilderness.

The wilderness is not just a place of physical hunger.

It is a place of testing.

A place where the frame presses in.

Where the question becomes:

What will shape the picture of Jesus’ life?

And the temptations are deeply human invitations.

Turn stones into bread —
secure your own needs immediately.

Throw yourself down —
prove that you matter.

Take the kingdoms of the world —
grasp control, take power, make it certain.

Each temptation is an invitation to step out of trust.

Each one is a pull toward separation.

Go it alone.

Prove yourself.

Take charge.

Jesus refuses to let hunger, performance, or power define who he is.

Instead, Jesus stays in relationship with God.

And in doing so, Jesus becomes what the tradition calls the New Adam.

The wilderness is not the story of Jesus proving himself.

It is the story of Jesus refusing the distorted frame.

It is the story of Jesus holding the true picture:

a life lived in communion with God.

So yes — sin is part of the frame in these readings.

And perhaps over time, that frame has been held so heavily that it has obscured the picture.

But the answer is not to throw the frame away.
It is to let it do its proper work.

Because the frame tells the truth:
we hide, we mistrust, we lose ourselves.

But the picture tells the deeper truth:
God comes looking.
God clothes us with care.
And Christ shows us what it means to remain faithful —
drawing us back into communion,
and re-directing our attention to what really matters:
our relationship with God,
and the truth that, no matter what, we are seen, known, and accepted by God.

Amen.