Out in the Desert

As clergy frequently do, three clergy went on a week-long silent Lenten retreat.  At the end of the retreat, all three acknowledged that they’d made significant self-discoveries but that their journey far from over.  All of them acknowledged that they felt they’d entered a desert, much as Jesus did after his baptism.  However, each acknowledged that they had each experienced that desert differently. 

As they sat over coffee before returning to their homes, the first one said, “I hope this was as good an experience for you guys as it was for me.  An idea crossed my mind though…shouldn’t we be confessing to each other?  It would help us.” 

The second one said, “That’s a great idea!  I might as well start.”  After drawing a deep breath and looking out into space, he said, “When that collection plate comes up to the altar each Sunday, I can’t resist taking $50 each time before it gets counted.  I know it’s bad; they give me a very generous expense account at my church.”  He then sat there silently, staring down sadly at his shoes.

The third clergyman then weighed in, “I can’t hold back anymore. I have a terrible drinking problem. In fact, I find it impossible to get through the week without at least two bottles hidden in my desk drawer. When I get back, I’m going to check out 12-step recovery; I owe it to my parish.” He then heaved a sigh looking strangely relieved that his secret was now open knowledge.

A long, pregnant pause followed when they realized that the first clergyman, the one who proposed this confession, hadn’t yet said anything. “So,” said the second man, “we haven’t heard a peep from you and fair is fair. You can’t be helped unless you come clean, you know.”

“Well alright,” the first one said, “but I warn you, it’s not pretty.” With that, he beamed with a big Cheshire cat smile and said, “I’m a terrible gossip … and I can’t wait to get out of here today!” Yes, the desert was a different experience for them, wasn’t it?

You know, a casual glance at the lectionary for this year would tell us that we’ve all been here before. In fact, this is third time this year we’ve read this very portion of the first chapter of Mark. What’s up with this? Why do we need to hear this again? Haven’t we already read about Jesus getting baptized? Well, the answer to all of the above is yes, but we read it in order to go back to another place in the journey: the desert. 

Why the desert? It’s a barren place, a place of nothing but deprivation. If that weren’t enough, there were the extreme temperatures; it was broiling hot by day and freezing by night and, of course, there were dangerous wild animals with which to contend. So, why go out there? Like the ocean, the desert represented chaos to the ancients. Just as with the flood of Noah, the desert represented new beginnings out of chaos.

The desert was also a place of extreme vulnerability, a place of self-discovery and, after all, Jesus was still a human being. By accepting baptism, he was accepting the full human condition, but he had to experience human temptation. Through fighting temptation, he would be afforded a chance to identify with human condition. He would do this through self-examination.

Mark’s Gospel says that Jesus was driven into the desert. It almost sounds against his will! Who in right mind would willingly opt for all that pain, danger and discomfort? It’s pretty much the same situation with all of us if you think about it; most people seem to start the same way. That seems to be the best the recipe for human growth.

This is what our Lenten journey is supposed to be about: being faced with our temptations and shortcomings. The desert a good working metaphor for the same spiritual journey of any seeker. It’s how and where we grow in our baptism and there needs to be at least one desert-time in all of our lives. Why, you may ask? Because giving in to all temptations is voluntary; even Jesus had a choice.

Christ calls us at Lent to follow him into the desert. This is where we can be confronted directly with whatever tempts or distracts us from our mission. It might be, as with Jesus, a place where we may be driven relentlessly. Perhaps we may simply stumble into the desert, as is often the case. We may even go willingly, though it’s hard to imagine! It makes no difference; once we’re in the desert, it’s important to acknowledge the deserts in our lives for what they are: uncomfortable but necessary; opportunities for grace of learning and growing relationship with God; opportunities to find that core within each of us.

Now, the trouble with being in the desert is that it feels isolated and very lonely. But don’t forget that Jesus wasn’t alone out there, and neither are we. In fact, we have everything he had and more. We each other and the basic certain truth that we are all God’s beloved children. Beside that, we have that Reign of God that He proclaimed.

You see, even in the chaos of the desert, God is there. Oh yes, and while were out in the desert, we needn’t worry about those wild, dangerous beasts… they won’t be able to destroy anything worth keeping.