We must also serve

Tracy Niven
Monday 23 February 2026

Preacher: Rt Revd Rosie Frew, Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland
Readings: 1 Peter 4:7-11; Matthew 4:1-11

It’s a privilege to be with you on this Founders and Benefactors Day. I bring you the greetings of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland.

Throughout my childhood I was in the Brownies, Guides and Rangers, each with the motto ‘Be Prepared’. Being prepared as a Brownie meant having a clean hankie, a notebook, a pencil, a piece of string and a 2p piece for the phone box in your pocket!

When I saw the date for this service my first thought was ‘Thinking Day’! For those who were involved in Guiding you will know what I’m talking about. A day when Girl Guides and Girl Scouts around the world celebrate together. 22 February because it was the birthday of both Robert and Olave Baden Powell, the founders of Scouting and Guiding.

As an Edinburgh graduate I thought I’d better be prepared and do my homework before my visit to the University. The website was a good starting point. Teaching began in the community of St Andrews in 1410, and the University was formally constituted by the issue of a papal bull in 1413. On 28 August 1413 full University status was conferred by a series of six papal bulls.

And then I read this – ‘The early years of the young university were not without turbulence. In 1426, King James tried to move the university to Perth. In 1470, several masters and students were expelled for attacking the Dean with bows and arrows. In 1544 the University banned beards, the carrying of weapons, gambling and football.’ I have so many questions!!

This is Founders and Benefactors Day, a day for remembering and giving thanks for their vision, commitment and contribution. It’s also the first Sunday of Lent. 40 days of preparation for Easter. A time when we remember the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness being tempted by the devil. Let me share a re-writing of that story.

The landscape is empty; the fierce furnace of the sun blazes mercilessly on the scorched land. All life has scuttled for sanctuary among the crevices of the rocks, or lies up in the hollows of the dried-up watercourses, waiting for the cooling breeze of evening. All life that is, save that of the gaunt figure of a man picking his way wearily to the shade of a lone tree. He’s hungry, thirsty and tired, yet from his eyes gleams a wise compassion that seems infinitely older than his age. He sits down and rests his eyes on a jumbled heap of boulders shaped like round loaves of bread. They remind him of his hunger. ‘Turn them into loaves,’ comes the whisper, ‘you are starving. Satisfy your hunger. Are you not God’s son?’ He looks up, as if seeing another before him, yet he appears to be alone.

‘That’s what the voice said at your baptism,’ the questioner continues. ‘ “You are my Son.” Or was it just your imagination, a trick of the brain, an illusion? Perhaps you are not whom you imagine yourself to be, but are just an ordinary carpenter infected with messianic fervour. Prove that I’m wrong. If you do succeed it will win you a lot of votes. There is a lot of hunger in the world. Millions are starving. And even if you do believe in yourself, turning stones into bread will convince the atheists and the sceptics. Go on, turn them into loaves!’

The man looks again at the rocks and shakes his head. ‘It is written,’ he replies, ‘Man does not live by bread alone, but from every word that comes from the mouth of God.’

‘Come with me,’ the voice persists, ‘I want you to see something. I will take you to the Temple. There’s nothing wrong with a visit to your Father’s house, is there? Tell you what, we needn’t even leave the desert. Let me open up your imagination. Here. We’ve entered the main gate and have gone through the courts into the Holy Place. Now we are in the Temple itself and have climbed to the roof at its highest point. Don’t look down! It’s a long drop! But I’m forgetting you are God’s son. You lead a charmed life. Jump! It’s okay. You can depend on the Father. Does not the scripture say: ‘His angels will protect you, lest you strike your foot against a rock.’ It’s quite safe. Think of the entertainment value; think of the draw that a miracle will have. Once you have gathered the crowd with this stunt, they will hang upon your words. So, jump!’

The man looks down and up again, then he shakes his head once more: ‘I see you know your Bible,’ he replies, ‘yet that does not surprise me. Let me give you another text that will put this suggestion beyond argument: “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.”
Undaunted, the voice continues: ‘As I see you have a head for heights, come with me to a mountain top – another holy place. For did not Abraham, Moses and Elijah have mountain-top experiences, moments of vision? I, too, can weave visions. So, stand with me on the roof of the world to see your destiny. I’m pleased that my talk of bread and circuses did not impress you as they have the Roman world. You are made of finer stuff; you are made to wield power, to exercise authority. Before you kings will bow, and emperors will do you homage. Look, this is my world.’

The man looks. Spread out before him in a trice is the long march of history: kings, emperors, dictators and presidents; generals and commanders; men and women of wealth, power and influence; all who rule, all who conquer, all who control; all of them bowing before a throne, upon which the man sits. ‘It is yours,’ says the voice, ‘I give it to you, and all its glory. All I ask is that you acknowledge me, that you call me your Lord, and you shall have it now. What is your answer?’

The man pauses, considering, then gazes down again. Now, instead of the panoply of power, he sees a man wearing a crown of thorns and a purple robe, mocked and buffeted by jeering soldiers. Then he looks into the tormented face of a crucified man and finds his own there. He stands erect: ‘Depart! Accuser, for scripture says, “You shall worship God and serve him alone.” ‘

The sun is now setting and a cool breeze springs up, seeming to whisper, ‘Beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.’ The man takes up his staff and starts to walk towards the far horizon.

Jesus was using his time in the desert to think about how he would do the work he had come to do. How he would carry out his mission. How he would tell people about the love of God, how he would get people to listen to him, to follow him. He was thinking about the right way to do this and the wrong way…

Jesus was hungry. Turning stones into bread was all about putting himself and his needs first. It was about taking short cuts, being greedy. But it was about more than that… Jesus knew that people, even hungry people, needed more than bread, bread didn’t meet their deepest needs. He didn’t want to bribe people to follow him with bread. He had so much more to give them. So much better to give them.

Jesus was thinking about how he would win followers. Having control of the world, ruling the earth was a temptation to power and dominance and imposition, but at a dreadful price. Jesus wanted to win people for God through his love and his message and his service. He didn’t want to force people to follow him.

Throwing himself down from the Temple was a way for Jesus to win over people by performing a spectacular stunt, a magic trick. It was a gimmick – it wasn’t about changed hearts and minds. Jesus didn’t want to trick people into following him.

No bribes, no force, no tricks. During his time in the desert Jesus realised it was far more important to give people his love and his care, his time and his understanding. To tell them all about God through his stories and his loving actions. The way of service. The way of the cross.

Let me go back to my homework for today…

From the university website – Our remarkable students and staff are the lifeblood of St Andrews. That’s you!

Universities exist for the pursuit of truth and scholarship, but in executing that privilege, we must also serve.

That sentence stuck with me. It’s not ivory towers and learning for learning’s sake – we must also serve. We read earlier from 1 Peter – Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.
That’s the challenge for all of you – student or staff, resident or visitor

How do you use what God has given you?

How do you show yourself to be a faithful steward of God’s grace?

Remember what else Peter wrote in his letter – If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ.

Just as Jesus used his time in the desert to consider the way ahead, so you also must take time to consider how you use what you have been given to serve others.

There are no right answers – just the right answer for you, and at this time, for this stage of your life.

Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, with the strength God provides
So, take a moment, have a think…

Our remarkable students and staff are the lifeblood of St Andrews.


Universities exist for the pursuit of truth and scholarship, but in executing that privilege, we must also serve.
Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others.


What gifts have you received?


Gifts of intellect, gifts of understanding, gifts of compassion, gifts of time, so many gifts…, some very particular gifts…
How do you use what God has given you?


What strength are you asking God for?


During his time in the desert Jesus refused to take the easy path, the way of bribes or force or tricks. He realised it was far more important to give people his love and his care, his time and his understanding. To tell them all about God through his stories and his loving actions. The way of service. The way of the cross.


Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, with the strength God provides.


Leave a reply

By using this form you agree with the storage and handling of your data by this website.