Navajo Desert, Rock Point, Arizona |
In my
last post
we reflected on the spiritual need from time to time to leave people and the world behind to be renewed by nature. This is a three-part spiritual movement in which we give up control and enter into solitude (which can often be both painful and lonely), trusting that as we allow ourselves to fall into God's grace and love we will experience revelation and insight leading to a deepening sense of God's presence and of our communion with all people and all of creation. This three-part movement corresponds Biblically with the experience of being in the desert, on the mountain, and inside the cloud. First, then, the desert.Desert (or wilderness) is the place of weeping. In its vastness and desolation, dangerous as it is to human life, we realize our lack of control. It is the place of sorrow and grief, as its barrenness reminds us of our losses and broken dreams. In the desert we are stripped naked of all our pretensions. We are vulnerable, bewildered, feeling abandoned. There is no protection from loneliness, isolation, depression, confusion, emptiness, meaninglessness, fear, and ultimately death. Grief overwhelms us and opens us to God, the only one who can quench our thirst.
Judean Desert |
Jordan River Valley with Samaria in the Background |
One's desert place varies by the biome in which one lives. The main features are of expansiveness and emptiness that give one a sense of being alone before God and nature in order that our minds and spirits can be cleared to receive revelation and enlightenment.
Antelope on the Plains of Wyoming |
Sheep on the Plains of South Dakota |
Badlands of North Dakota |
Advent
is a desert season. Isaiah describes the mood and task of Advent: "A
voice is calling, 'Clear the way for the LORD in the wilderness; Make smooth in
the desert a highway for our God.'" [Isaiah 40:3]
I have
had many desert experiences, but two stand out as the most profound and painful
for me. One was the year after my first wife, Pauline, died. I felt like I had
been dropped in the middle of a deserted planet, not knowing which way to turn,
seeing no oasis to step toward. Like the Psalmist I called out over and over
gain, “How long, O Lord! Now long!”
Another
was a decade ago when my daughter became severely depressed. I
could taste the fear, having no choice but to admit that I was powerless to
protect her from death. I was forced to give up my desire to control events. I
felt totally lost and bewildered, and had no choice but to do what is so
painfully difficult for us humans to do: to trust her to God.
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