One of the most persistent prejudices against people of faith is the notion that we deal in what is not "real." Religion is understood by many secularists as being something "spiritual" and spiritual is equated with flimsy imaginary concepts about our interior life.

Recently a curious thing has been happening. Well-meaning people (who know that being "materialists" is a very limited proposition) will say, "I am not religious but I am spiritual." I greet this with a sympathetic ear and the hope that the conversation can move us to exploring how religious and spiritual cannot be separated. A spiritual yearning needs a religious tradition to feed it, and a religiously informed spirituality is very real and very central to how we live in the world.

During Lent we read the Scriptures which recount with increasing urgency the drama that culminates in the events of Holy Week. Yet we sometimes forget where it all began, in that place which Matthew (4: 1-11) calls "the wilderness."

It was the Spirit that led Jesus into the wilderness to sever his ties with the world that surrounded him long enough to face his spiritual questions straight on. Without sinning, as the prodigal son certainly did, Jesus nevertheless tasted sin and felt it very close to him. Like the prodigal son, he needed to face the world's priorities head on, come to understand their emptiness and return full of love to his Father. It was Jesus' religious sense that allowed him to 1) face the questions; 2) weigh them not in a vacuum but with the force of his entire religious tradition; and 3) know what he needed to do to answer them.

The spiritual questions Jesus faces in the wilderness are most real and without "religion" they would not be understandable. As Matthew tells us, when the "tempter" appears the spiritual questions send Jesus head first into the depth of what it really means to be "in" the world.

The first thing Jesus faces is hunger. This is a tangible bodily need, the most basic of needs. Being hungry places Jesus in a position of "lack," it makes him "want." Need without God can turn the world into our master and us into slaves. We will try to fill that need with whatever is at hand. How do we turn stones into bread? Do we cheat in business? Do we exploit the labor of others? Do we run in search of the fast buck, the latest gadget, that elusive thing that will make the hunger stop?

Or do we, as Jesus does, answer this question religiously by placing God inside our hungry bellies? Jesus' response, "One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God," acknowledges the importance of bread, but stresses that without God the hunger will continue. This is Jesus facing the temptation to think he is needy, with the answer of boundless abundance. Need cannot enslave the person that is filled with God.

The second temptation that faces Jesus is one of making deals with God. He is tempted to turn his life into one of transactions, which many of his contemporaries had done by misinterpreting the Law. The temptation is to see if God will reward his faithfulness by keeping him from harm. Can he and God make a deal?

Again, this is not an unreal question because the way we relate to those we love is the engine driving the way we live. Will I only do things for those who will do things for me? Will I always be looking over my shoulder to see who will repay me? And consequently, will I ignore those who can't possibly pay me back because they have no power? Will I know love or only utility?

Jesus' most intimate relationship is with his Father, and Jesus refuses to expect his protection or rescue. He will love and surrender himself to that love without any expectations. Transactions and deals cannot be part of a truly loving relationship.

Finally, Jesus faces his last temptation, again, a very real one. This temptation is most interesting, because it is essentially being tempted to always live at the mercy of temptation.

Jesus has to choose between living a life without God --- without spiritual questions or religious answers, but a life which will give him the illusion of power and of being in control --- and its opposite, a life with God. Will I serve an institution interested only in itself and its internal well-being? Will I worship prestige and security so much that I will work to secure it no matter how many others I destroy in the process? Will I be always at the mercy of my own insecurities because I only worship and serve myself?

The life with God, Jesus tells us, is one of "worship" and of "service" devoted to God. In the very real world of life, this choice means a radical freedom. In refusing to submit his spirit to the chaos of worshipping what is temporary and incomplete, Jesus chooses what is eternal. His choice transcends small agendas for the good of all creation. Jesus knows that worship and service of God are the very real and embodied expressions of love. Real love stands up against that which asks allegiance to what is unworthy of worship and unworthy of service.

Are religious questions about what is real? Oh, yes! Otherwise temptations would be only imaginary, and you and I know they most certainly are not.

Cecilia González-Andrieu is a Hispanic Theological Initiative scholar at the Graduate Theological Union, Berkeley.