It seems like another lifetime now, but at one time I was an avid backpacker. In fact, backpacking defined my entire sense of identity at that time in my life. If I wasn’t backpacking, you could be sure I was planning out or preparing for my next backpacking trip.
I mention that because, among my favorite places to backpack was the desert environment. I have particularly powerful memories of backpacking in the desert this time of the year.
I would join a handful of fellow backpackers in the desert for a few days just to get away from the world. The sense of peace that I felt in the desert was incredible and simply indescribable.
One of the first desert adventures I took was to a place outside Moab, Utah called “Land Behind the Rocks”. “Land Behind the Rocks” is a truly unique and tranquil landscape that is perfect for getting away from the world. A person can immediately get lost in the mosaic of red and orange desert landscape with the majestic La Sal mountains (which are often snow covered this time of year) hovering in the background. It is just amazing.
However, despite its close proximity to Moab, “Land Behind the Rocks” is a true wilderness area that is quite remote and dangerous, especially traveling by foot.
We came to “Land Behind the Rocks” with an epic 5-day adventure planned, complete with a loop hiking route mapped out, camping sites identified, and all the other necessary logistics worked out (or so we thought).
Our plan for the first day was to essentially hike to the heart of the wilderness area where we would reach the Colorado River. Our plan was to camp near the river to have ample access to water for the night.
After a long and hard day of hiking with a week's worth of camping gear and supplies on our backs, we finally arrived at the river.
However, what we were not prepared for was the fact that the river was about 500 feet below us in a steep canyon. The canyon wall wasn’t enough to stand out on the topo map we used to make our plans, but it was certainly enough to prevent us from getting to the river.
So, here we were, tired, out of water, and in the middle of a stark desert wilderness with the sunset quickly approaching.
It was a moment that we truly had to take perspective of the situation. What is it that we need? We need shelter (a place we can set up camp), we certainly need water, and we have food. We knew that as long as we kept things in perspective and focused on what we really needed, that we would be fine.
God was truly with us in the desert that day. We picked a spot on the topo map that we thought would at least make a decent campsite and started to wearily hike in that direction. After about a half hour of desert bushwacking, we arrived at a spot that the memory of tends to remind me of how I picture Elisha's Fountain near the mound of Tel Jericho in the Holy Land whenever I read the Second Book of Kings.
It turned out to be a perfect spot. A perfectly flat area free of sage and other desert scrub brush. Along a large, beautiful, and almost cathedral-like, sandstone wall was a large pool of water.
The site was exactly what we needed. We had camp set up, water filtered, and dinner made just as it was getting dark.
At that point we changed our plan. We decided to nix the loop route we had initially planned, but instead use this spot as a basecamp for the rest of our time in the desert. The idea was to day hike and explore in a different direction each day.
In a way, we didn’t get the epic desert adventure that we planned, but we received something better. We received a desert sojourn that we needed.
The new plan removed the element of the environmental risk of the unknown, and gave us more opportunity to truly enter into the peace, the tranquility, and the silence that is offered by the desert.
I certainly wouldn’t have appreciated this at the time, but I have come to see through my desert experiences, particularly my experience at “Land Behind the Rocks,” how significant the desert is to our spiritual lives.
Throughout salvation history, the desert has been a special spiritual place. The Israelites wandered the desert for 40 years. In spite of the spirit of rebellion we hear at times in their story, we cannot deny the intimacy God had with them in the desert environment. The great Shekinah of God’s glory, represented in the pillar of cloud and fire. God’s guidance to the Israelites through the wilderness as they traveled is evident.
Throughout the Old Covenant, prophets continually encouraged the people of God to return to the desert to renew and strengthen their relationship with God.
This is one of the reasons Jesus goes to the desert for 40 days. He gives us a model for how to enter into the desert in order to reconnect with God, to redefine our identity in Him, and deepen our intimacy with Him.
In Judaism, desert spirituality culminated with the sect that was known as the Essenes (which many believe John the Baptist was part of). The Essenes lived out their faith in the desert region of Qumran, near the Dead Sea, near where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found.
In Catholicism, desert spirituality found its fullest expression in the Desert Fathers. The Desert Fathers were monks and hermits that inhabited the Egyptian desert in relative isolation from the second century through much of the Patristic age of the Church, ending around the time of the Great Schism.
The Church, in her wisdom, gives us this wonderful season of Lent to encourage us to enter into this desert spirituality. The good news is that we don’t have to go to some remote desert wilderness to do this. We can mystically enter into the spiritual desert within our ordinary world.
The Desert Fathers were simply seeking to grow closer to God through silence. Instead of engaging in the pleasures and surpluses of the world, they immersed themselves in prayer, fasting, and the practice of asceticism.
The Desert Fathers personified taking perspective of the situation. They detached themselves from all earthly things to rely solely on the grace of God.
Even if we don’t physically go to the desert, our invitation during Lent is to engage in this desert spirituality in a very intentional way.
The reality is that we are all going to experience the spiritual desert. The only real question is whether we want to experience it coincidently through the circumstances of life, or intentionally to grow closer to God.
Orthodox priest Father John Chryssavgis said, “Ironically, you do not have to find the desert in your life; it normally catches up with you. Everyone does go through the desert, in one shape or another. It may be in the form of some suffering, or trauma that occurs in our life. Dressing the desert up through our addictions or attachments to material goods (or money, or food, or drink, or success, or obsessions, or anything else we may care to turn toward or may find available to depend upon) will delay the utter loneliness and the inner fearfulness of the desert experience. If we go through this experience involuntarily, then it can be both overwhelming and crushing. If, however, we accept to undergo the experience voluntarily, then it can prove constructive and liberating.”
This is ultimately what Lent is all about. Lent is an invitation to deliberately enter into the spiritual desert in order to find true liberation and true freedom in Christ.
You may be wondering what it looks like to enter into the spiritual desert..
For me, when I attempt to enter into the spiritual desert, I like to first reflect on the experience of Elijah in the desert cave. We all know the story: “There was a strong and violent wind rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the LORD—but the LORD was not in the wind; after the wind, an earthquake—but the LORD was not in the earthquake; after the earthquake, fire—but the LORD was not in the fire; after the fire, a light silent sound.”
In the spiritual desert, I take a look at the winds, fires, and earthquakes that are in my life. In other words, I identify the noises of the secular world in my life that distract me from hearing the light silent sound of the Lord.
Perhaps I am on social media too much. Perhaps I am binging too much Netflix. Perhaps I am taking too much comfort in food or alcohol. Perhaps I am putting in too much voluntary overtime at work, watching too much sports, following too much politics, shopping, exercising, or doing some other activity in excess.
The reality is that we have 24 hours in a day. Do we give God the appropriate amount of time that is equal to the time we give to these other things? It is precisely these distractions that can keep us from truly experiencing the indwelling Trinity.
The challenge of desert spirituality is to minimize these things in our lives (if not outright abstain from some of them) in order to make more room for God and to develop a deeper, more intense thirst for God.
Then, I like to look at the people, places, and things in my life that I am tempted to control. One of the great axioms of life is that the more we try to control something (or someone) in life, the more control it has over us.
It is sort of like a Chinese finger puzzle, the more you try to separate your fingers, the tighter the puzzle holds your fingers together.
Perhaps the most vivid example of this in our world is addiction. The more the addict tries to control the object of their addiction, the more control the object of addiction seems to have over them and the worse the addiction seems to get.
It usually isn’t until the addict quits trying to control the addiction and instead truly surrenders the object of their addiction over to God, that the bonds are finally loosened so they can live a life that is happy, joyous and free.
This isn’t just a problem for addicts. All of us have things in our lives that we try to control. I heard an estimate once that as much as 90% of our society suffers from some level of codependency.
The impact of codependency on our spirituality could be an entirely separate talk at another time. But suffice it to say, codependency can be a clear example of, among other things, us trying to control someone or something in our life while in the meantime that someone or something is living rent-free in our head (often becoming an impediment to our relationship with God).
Entering into the spiritual desert means identifying those situations, giving up control of them, and truly surrendering them to the Lord.
Many of these things, if not properly surrendered to the Lord, can lead to resentments. I do an honest assessment of what resentments I may currently have bottled up.
Saint Augustine said that resentment (and I’ll go so far as to say all forms of unforgiveness) is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die. To say that a resentful mindset is toxic to our spiritual life, is an extreme understatement. Entering into the spiritual desert means allowing the Holy Spirit to purge us of these emotional toxins.
This can be as simple as clearly and confidently declaring to the Lord that you forgive so and so for doing such and such (being as specific as possible). If this is an obstacle, then beg the Lord for the grace of forgiveness and perhaps work through it with a spiritual director or take advantage of the wonderful resources at the Catholic Renewal Center.
Through my experience, I have come to firmly believe forgiveness is one of those things that will be granted according to our faith.
I also find it helpful to reflect on the capital sins. I am not talking about mortal sin, though we certainly need to identify those, repent of them and receive absolution through the Sacrament of Reconciliation.
The capital sins are pride, avarice, lust, envy, gluttony, anger, and sloth. They are called "capital" because they form the basis for other (often more serious) sins. For example anger can lead to murder.
Capital sins not only can lead to more serious sins, but they often become mortal sins over time in their own right. That being said, generally speaking, capital sins begin as simple imperfections.
We need to reflect on how the capital sins, now matter how insignificantly they may seem to manifest themselves in our lives, have come to hinder our true freedom in Christ and hinder the full movement of grace in our lives.
Of course, we may have other character defects beyond the capital sins. It is important to keep in mind that many of our character defects are often protection mechanisms for our deeply seated emotional wounds.
As we enter into the spiritual desert, we must be willing to allow ourselves to be truly vulnerable to the Holy Spirit in that our true woundedness can come to the surface, be exposed, and ultimately healed.
An honest and regular reflection can help us identify these character defects and surrender them to the Lord. This will lead to greater healing and freedom in Christ, greater activation of the charisms we have received from the Holy Spirit, and ultimately continued sanctification.
Sometimes, taking these capital sins and other character defects to the Sacrament of Reconciliation, even if they are not mortal in nature (particularly if they are habitual), can be of great spiritual value.
As the Israelites were completing their desert journey and were about to cross the Jordan River to go into the Promised Land, Joshua led them in a consecration to the Lord.
Similarly, I believe an important part of any desert experience is to make a definitive act that intentionally surrenders our entire will and every aspect of our lives over to God while consecrating ourselves to Him.
I’ll share with you a daily consecration prayer that I have cobbled together over the years from a number of different sources.
As some of you might know, I am enrolled in the Militia Immaculate. This prayer is a Consecration to the Lord through Our Lady that draws heavily from the writings of Saint Maximilian Kolbe, among other sources. One of those other sources some of you might recognize is a prayer called the Fiat to the Eternal Father, which the exorcist Father James Blount recites.
You can come up with a similar consecration prayer that speaks more to your individual relationship with God and perhaps invokes patron saints you may have.
This is the prayer I use, as I will likely recite it on this Friday given that Friday is a day of abstinence in the Church:
“Immaculata, Queen and Mother of the Church, my Queen and my Mother, I renew my consecration to you and your Immaculate Heart this day and for always, so you may use me for the coming of the kingdom of Jesus in the whole world. I offer you during this day myself, all my works and prayers, joys and sorrows, suffering I may endure, and in particular, I offer all the worldly pleasures and delights of meat, sugar, alcohol and caffeine, which I forgo as an act of reparation for my sins and the sins of others and as an expression of love for your son, Jesus Christ. Almighty Father, I pray these gifts may be pleasing to You and that You will favor me with Your blessing. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Be Thou my Father. Be always my Eternal Father. Do not leave my soul. Do not abandon me. Do not leave me out of your sight, my Father, for I am Your child, whom You have created to please You, to adore You, to honor You, living my days as You have given me the license to live it. Reveal Yourself to me this day and grant that I may serve at least one person. In union with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, I offer up this fiat through Mary, to Jesus, to You, Eternal Father. Amen.”
Of course, it seems every biblical story of a desert experience involves a mountain at some point. The mountain is the place where God reveals Himself and draws people closer to Him. Our spiritual desert experience should be no different.
Simply put, the Mass is our spiritual mountain. The Mass is where we are drawn into the heights of the Paschal Mystery and where we encounter the Lord in the most intimate way possible in this mortal life through the Eucharist…the true source and summit of the Christian life.
It is through the Eucharist that we experience the basis of all reality. The full grace and infinite love of God made available to us in order to transform us into the beings we are meant to be.
It is through the Eucharist that we experience the climax of the Christian experience. It is through the Eucharist that we are enabled to transcend and supersede our material existence. The Eucharist is both the gift of His very life for us and our entry into the presence of the Holy Trinity.
Through the Eucharist, we are truly incorporated into Christ. Through our unity with Jesus Christ, we are brought into the Holy Trinity as it indicates in paragraph 648 of the Catechism:
“The Father's power ‘raised up’ Christ his Son and by doing so perfectly introduced his Son's humanity, including his body, into the Trinity.”
Through the Mass, we climb the desert mountain with Moses to encounter God. At the Offertory, we do more than simply offer bread and wine.
In fact, it is at this point in the Byzantine Liturgy, where the Cherubikon chant is sung. This chant urges the congregation to “now set aside all earthly cares”. In doing so, they are opening themselves up to reach the pinnacle of the spiritual desert mountain.
Similarly in our Latin Mass (both the ordinary and extraordinary forms), we mystically climb the desert mountain in a profound way when the priest says “Lift up your hearts!” to which we respond “We lift them up to the Lord.” We set aside our earthly cares as we lift up our hearts to rise to the pinnacle of the spiritual desert mountain. As we lift up our hearts, we give our hearts to God.
This is the point of the Liturgy where we empty ourselves of all things, including our personal identity. This is the point of the Liturgy where we let go of all attachments to worldly things. This is the point of the Liturgy where we separate ourselves from any limitations we have put on God. This is the point of the Liturgy where we detach ourselves from our character defects and our own self love.
Then we arrive at the point of the Liturgy where Father has blessed the bread and the wine. All of us kneel as a we begin what we refer to as the Epiclesis (which is the calling upon the Holy Spirit). This is the point of the Liturgy where the great Shekhinah is made manifest before us, similar to the Israelites in the desert.
We may not be able to see the “glory cloud” with our natural eyes (as Peter, James, and John were able to on Mount Tabor), but the sacramental reality remains, even when our human senses fail.
As the priest lifts up the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, we are at the pinnacle of the desert mountain experience. We are at the same pinnacle where the face of Moses shone with the glory of God.
When we approach the altar to receive the Eucharist, we have reached that same pinnacle…that pinnacle where we are also to shine with the glory of God…we are to shine with the glory of the Eucharist.
Our heart, that we gave to God at the Offertory, is now replaced with the Sacred Heart of Jesus through our reception of the holy Eucharist.
When we receive the Eucharist, we not only receive the full Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ, but we also receive God the Father and God the Holy Spirit.
Through our valid reception of the Eucharist, the Holy Trinity comes to be vested in our soul. Or, perhaps another way to look at it, through the Eucharist, our soul is vested in the Holy Trinity.
When we receive the Eucharist with the correct intention and correct disposition, we become true partakers of the divine nature.
At the peak of the desert mountain, there is authentic inner harmony. This is the state where we experience true joy, true peace, and true love.
When I used to backpack into the desert wilderness, there was a true physical separation from the secular world. There was an immense stillness and a quietness that is hard to find elsewhere. Somehow through the lens of the desert world around me, life seemed more clear, it just seemed more crisp, it just made more sense.
In our spiritual journey, we must strive to find that sense of stillness and quietness in our ordinary world. In that stillness and quietness is where we find the light silent sound of the Lord. The light silent sound of the Lord that perpetually communicates love for us and shows Himself to us in the midst of our daily circumstances.
Of course, I am barely scratching the surface on the topic of desert spirituality today. If you are interested in diving deeper into desert spirituality, Exodus 90 and EWTN are currently doing a podcast called ”Desert Fathers in a Year” with Bishop Erik Varden. More information can be found at desertfathers.com.
Additionally, our own Deacon James Keating is currently doing a podcast called “Crossing the Desert”. More information can be found at discerninghearts.com.
Finally, I will post the text of this talk to a blog that I use to catalog the homilies I deliver. I’d be happy to send you a link to the post, if you would like to revisit something I have said this evening. My email address is scott_sparks@outlook.com, or you can find my email address on the Incarnate Word website.
The more we can bring the spiritual desert into our daily prayer life, particularly during Lent, the more clearly we will hear the light silent sound of the Lord calling to us, and the more we will be able to clearly respond, “Here I am!”
The spiritual desert enables us to make God our sole obsession, with everything else becoming a means to give glory to God. Letting God think through us. Letting God talk through us. Letting God act through us. Letting God love through us. Surrendering our entire life and will over to the care of God, who dwells within us thanks to the Sacraments instituted by Jesus Christ. As Saint Paul said, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me.”
Brothers and sisters, as we finish our Lenten journey and prepare to take possession of the promised land of the Easter season, let’s take perspective of the situation. Let’s renew our effort to enter into the spiritual desert. Let’s allow ourselves to truly experience the spiritual thirst that can only be slaked by the blood of Jesus Christ. Let's come to truly understand why the early Church Fathers said, “God became man so that man might become God”.
Thanks be to God!
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