The Lenten Wilderness

And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him [Mark 1:12-13, a portion of the Gospel reading for the First Sunday in Lent, Year B, RCL, NRSV].

Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. We begin our Lenten Sunday readings in just a few days. While the reading appointed in the Lectionary for the First Sunday in Lent rotates each year among the three Synoptic gospels, the story line is always the same: Following Jesus’ baptism in the River Jordan, he is filled with the Holy Spirit, which then drives Jesus out into the wilderness [Mark 1:12].

It is interesting that Matthew and Luke use a gentler verb. Instead of being driven into wilderness by the Spirit, those writers indicate that Jesus “was led” there by the Spirit [Luke 4:1, Matthew 4:1]. Whatever the verb, Jesus spends 40 days in “No Man’s Land,” where he is tempted by Satan, spends time with wild beasts, and yet, Jesus is also attended by angels.

For a long time now, I’ve wondered what would have been going through Jesus’ mind as he walked out into the void to begin his Wilderness sojourn. I suspect that, inter alia, he contemplated the powerful role that the Wilderness had always played in the life of Israel. The Israelites, after all, had wandered around in the Wilderness for 40 years with Moses after leaving Egypt. No doubt Jesus remembered that before David was crowned king, he had a price on his head, and accordingly, he fled from King Saul by way of the Wilderness [1 Samuel 23:14].

I wonder: Did Jesus also remember the poignant Wilderness story of Hagar and Ishmael? [Genesis 21:8-21]. Did he reflect upon the fact that, because of Sarah’s jealousy, Abraham had banished Hagar and her son—Abraham’s firstborn son—to the Wilderness, giving them meager provisions of bread and a single skin of water? Where were they to go? Abraham’s banishment was surely a death sentence. What were they to do when the water ran out?

I’m sure that Jesus remembered that for Hagar and Ishmael, the water did run out [Genesis 21:15]. In Hagar’s helpless, hopeless situation, she placed her son under a bush, to provide him with some shade, and she then sat down “a good way off,” because she could not bear to watch the death of her child.

Indeed, the Wilderness is a dangerous place—a lonely place. It’s a place where shadows play tricks upon one’s eyes, where thirst is a constant companion, and where Death is always just a few steps away. Alas, as he left the warm affirmation that came to him at his baptism in the River Jordan, Jesus—who knew his scripture well—knew that the Wilderness was a place not to be taken lightly. Even for the Son of God, it was a place of loneliness, a place of desolation, and a place haunted by the lies of the Evil One.

You and I are quite familiar with the Wilderness. We’ve endured it now for many more than 40 days. We stepped into the unfamiliar Wilderness before last year’s Ash Wednesday, and that Wilderness has haunted our lives now for almost a year. Within this Wilderness, friends and for some of you, family members, were “driven” or “led” to spaces behind the swinging doors of a hospital. For all too many, the last sight of their loved ones was as they were swallowed up within the healthcare system that bravely fought for their lives, and yet, because of healthcare risks, required the dying to remain isolated, uncomforted, and afraid.

There is, of course, some theological risk in drawing too close a comparison between our own Wilderness stories and those of our Lord. He, after all, was preparing for a three-year ministry of preaching, teaching, and healing that would ultimately lead to a cross. Our time in the Wilderness is more of a purgatorium. We spend our time waiting, hoping, and lamenting. Many of us now have two shots in our arms. Additional inoculations are in the works for all who will accept them. We will get through this, but we honestly wonder what life will be like on the other side of our Wilderness. We may be unsure of our existence in a post-pandemic world, but we nevertheless have Yahweh’s promise of fullness.

Behold, I tell you a mystery; We shall not all die, but we shall all be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet [1 Cor. 15:51-52].

But we’re not there yet. In this pandemic purgatorium, temptations abound. While we’re here in the Wilderness, we may be tempted to lash out at those around us, particularly those with whom we have shared confined living spaces for more than a year. Here in the Wilderness, we may respond with nagging negativity. Recall my messages in recent weeks. “If I were in charge, things would be different.” Here in the Wilderness, we may be tempted to blame others for our predicament when those others are likely just as caught up within the Wilderness as we are.

The saddest part of being caught here in the Wilderness is that while we’re here, we can be tempted to forget the most important point of all: Yahweh is in the Wilderness with us!

Yahweh is in the Wilderness? I thought Yahweh reigned in the heavens. That is true; but He’s also here! I think as Jesus began his 40-day “journey” through the Wilderness, he remembered that none of the Wilderness stories turned out in tragedy or horror. The Israelites, after 40 years of wandering, were able to jettison their past and begin afresh in Canaan. David, who fled in fear from the mighty (and angry) Saul, was able to endure, to flourish, and to become the next king of Israel. In fact, he was able to begin the blood line that would lead to the birth of a baby in Bethlehem who would turn the world upside down.

Ah, but what about Hagar and Ishmael? They weren’t to be part of the promise made to Abraham. That role was reserved for Isaac. Ishmael’s lineage would not become one of the tribes of Israel. True enough, but for my money, the Wilderness story of Hagar and Ishmael is the best of all. Hagar, having placed her son under the bush, and having walked a distance away, so that she would not be able to see Ishmael’s suffering and death—would not be able to hear Ishmael’s cries for help—gets the surprise of her lifetime. Yahweh is in the Wilderness with them!

While Hagar, because of her distance, may not have been able to see the suffering of her child under the bush, while she may not have been able to hear his woeful cries of hunger and thirst, Yahweh was near enough to hear them:

And God heard the voice of the lad and God’s messenger called out from the heavens and said to her, “What troubles you, Hagar? Fear not, for God has heard the lad’s voice where he is [Genesis 21:17, The Hebrew Bible, tr. by. Alter].

The story goes on to say that Yahweh opened Hagar’s eyes, showed her a well, where she refilled the bag with fresh water. Ishmael went on to grow up in the Wilderness, to live in the Wilderness, and to make a fine life for himself and his family, all in the Wilderness [Genesis 21:21]. The story of Hagar and Ishmael, which was no doubt known to Jesus, tells of a God who finds a way where there is no way, a God who reminds us that we are never left alone under the bush or in the ditch to die alone.

Emmanuel—God with us—is near enough to hear our own cries, for Yahweh is here with us in the Wilderness. Jesus is the Good Samaritan, who lifts us up, binds our wounds, and sees to our future eternally. No matter how deep the Wilderness, because of God’s presence within it, we are never utterly banished, never completely forgotten, and never truly alone, no matter what purgatorium of pain within which we may find ourselves. Thanks be to God!