Through the Wilderness

February 21, 2021 • First Sunday in Lent •
Reading: Matthew 4:1-11
Pastor Jeff Wells

Jesus spent a lot of time in the wilderness. The story we just heard was not Jesus’ only venture through the wilderness, but it was probably his most formative. The places he went were mostly desert wilderness. You don’t have to imagine what that looked like – just put Jesus into the vast, barren landscape with the lone broom tree in our main image for today. 

Matthew tells us that the Spirit led Jesus there to be tempted by Satan. The three temptations relate to performing a miracle to satisfy his need for food, then testing God’s love and care for him, and finally the temptation of power and dominion over others. Jesus resisted all of the temptations. He aced all of his tests. Yet, did you notice that Matthew doesn’t give us much detail about what preceded the final day when the temptations occurred. The text says that Jesus spent forty days and nights in the wilderness, but the temptations all come at the very end of the story – after Jesus has already spent. What was he doing the other 39 days? All Matthew tells us is that Jesus fasted. I think he was preparing himself or, rather, the Spirit was helping him to become prepared for the temptations he would inevitably face. He was continuing the process of becoming Jesus.

Let’s think about the God we know who is at work in all of the processes of the universe and intimately involved in our continual becoming as human persons. God does not tempt or test us, but God knows that we will be tempted and tested in our lives. God does not cause suffering or pain, but God knows we will experience suffering and pain in our lives. And there may be times when God leads us into the wilderness, but more often, we stumble into or are compelled by circumstance to go through the wilderness. Sometimes life just happens – we get sick, a relationship falls apart, we make poor choices, we get caught in a pandemic, or we suffer the severe impacts of climate change. Whatever impels us onto our wilderness pathways, God helps us to weather these times, make the most of them, and come out the other side. 

Keep in mind what happened right before Jesus’ was led into the wilderness. The Gospel of Matthew says, “As soon as Jesus was baptized, he came up out of the water. At that moment…he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased’.” [1] The same is true for us, God calls each of us by name and declares, “You are my child, whom I love. With you I am well pleased,” and implied in that, God says, “I am with you always.” God knows we will have wilderness experiences and never lets us go through them alone. In fact, God helps us to use those experiences of suffering, pain, loneliness, depression, and temptation to prepare, to grow, to find our way forward, and to become the most authentic selves we can be.

Clearly, going through the wilderness is not just about being tempted. That’s a big part of Jesus’ wilderness experience, but that’s his experience. It is not necessarily yours or mine. What we lose or need to leave behind and what we take on or gain in our wilderness is unique to our own histories, suffering, and needs. We may find healing while traversing the wilderness. We may grow in strength, resilience, courage, or faith. We may learn how better to give and receive love. Or, the wilderness may teach us to live with part of our lives that cannot be changed.

Sometimes, the wilderness journey prepares us for what lies ahead. We know that the Israelites wandered in the desert for 40 years. When they escaped from slavery in Egypt, they were not really formed as a people yet. They needed to coalesce, to find their way, to develop structures and leadership and a common culture before they were ready to enter the promised land.

The Israelites’ long sojourn resonates with our own communal experience over the past year. We have certainly been through the wilderness this year on multiple levels. We have been moving through a dry and weary land. Individually and collectively, we have experienced anxiety, fear, pain, loss, and suffering. God did not lead us into this wilderness. God did not create or desired the pandemic or systemic racism or political turmoil to tempt or test us, yet God has led us to become stronger, more resilient, more connected and caring of one another, more committed, and better equipped. And all along the way, our thirst for God and for deep attachment to one another has infused this important time together.

The wilderness is not a distraction, but a space and time where we may be able to escape the noise or distractions of our lives in order to really be able to listen deeply to God and to our own inner voices. The wilderness experience can help us to discover a new sense of purpose or to unveil who we really are at our core.

The spiritual writer and teacher, Henri Nouwen, was ordained a priest in 1957. By the mid-1980s, he had written dozens of books, taught at Notre Dame, Yale, and Harvard, was famous around the world and in great demand as a preacher and speaker. Yet, he was feeling lost, lonely, and depressed. [His story reminds me a bit of the story of Elijah in the wilderness we heard at the beginning of worship.] He resigned his teaching position at Harvard. At the invitation of a friend, he visited the L’Arche community in France, a residential community for developmentally and intellectually disabled persons. A year later, he agreed to become the pastor for a L’Arche community north of Toronto. Reflecting on his ministry there, Nouwen wrote:

“This experience was and, in many ways, is still the most important experience of my new life, because it forced me to rediscover my true identity. These broken, wounded, and completely unpretentious people forced me to let go of my relevant self – the self that can do things, show things, prove things, build things – and forced me to reclaim that unadorned self in which I am completely vulnerable, open to receive and give love regardless of any accomplishments.” [2]

Stripping down to our unadorned selves and learning to become humble, vulnerable, and open to loving and being loved, can be a painful process. Yet, we may come to know God and ourselves more deeply than ever before.

I have that kind of wilderness story too. When I was in my early 40s, I got divorced. I left behind an organization and comrades and a vocation that had been central to my identity for 16 years. I went through a profound personal crisis. I felt at loose ends, not knowing what to do or which direction to go. I had walked through the wilderness for two years. At the time, I did not feel “led” to this wilderness, but I can certainly see in hindsight that I was led to particular people, books, a particular community-building organization, and a specific UM congregation, all of which helped me to recover my faith, hear God speak to me, and discover a new calling and purpose.

The wilderness is not usually a comfortable place. It is not always a very safe place. People often think there must be something wrong with themselves or with God if they have to go through such a painful wilderness journey for a time. But the wilderness is not something we should avoid. Instead, if we can envision not merely the pain or difficulty of the wilderness, but also it’s ultimate blessings, we can learn to accept and even embrace it – even if we feel that embrace only in hindsight. 

What helped me – and can help all of us – when we have to go through a difficult wilderness experience, is to realize that God is not only with us, but providing for us. By that I mean that God helps us to find the resources we need for such times. Matthew’s Gospel provides a power story of such provision. Jesus was with thousands of people on a mountain side, far from any town, with what seemed like way too little food to go around. But through a miracle of sharing, everyone had enough. [3] In the past 11 months of our wilderness journey, have we not been blessed with a multiplication of loaves of bread and fish? Have we not found that what we need is here among us? Numerous persons in our community have offered creativity, talent, technical skills, hearts, hands, and voice, to allow us to sustain and even enhance worship, Bible study, the Ministry of Care, and all of our small groups online. Moreover, Church of the Village members and supporters have doubled their financial giving. The same is true for giving designated for our emergency food program, Hope for Our Neighbors in Need. With additional funding and food donations from outside sources, we were able to feed 4,000 persons 3 meals a day every week for months. Is that not a miracle of provision, multiplication, and sharing of food, hope, and love? That doesn’t mean we are not still feeling pain, grief, loss, fear, and anxiety, but we have been molded, learned, and grown to be able to face these challenging times and to imagine a future with hope. The wilderness and God’s love for us have helped make us who we are today and will continue to profoundly affect who we become in the days ahead. 

Reflection: 
Consider making time this week to reflect on your own wilderness experiences. Maybe you are walking through a wilderness now or you can identify a past experience of wilderness. It might have been a solo journey or with others or even with a community such as the Church of the Village. Think about how you ended up in the wilderness. What do or did you need to leave behind? What did you or are you learning or gaining? How were or are you being changed? I encourage you to write it down for yourself. 

(c) 2021 Jeff Wells
All rights reserved.

[1] Matthew 3:16–17 (NIV)

[2] Henri J.M. Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership (New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 2002.

[3] Matthew 15:29-39

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