Monday, March 4, 2019

Wilderness Walking in Lent


          The season of Lent traditionally begins with reading the story of Jesus entering the wilderness after his baptism and facing three temptations.  The practices of Lent are designed to engage us in introspection of our own failings and a recognition of our reliance on God’s Grace.

          The wilderness imagery is helpful as we begin this journey to the cross.  Recently I read a book by Scott Stillman titled, Wilderness The Gateway to the Soul.  Some of his reflections as a wilderness trekker are instructive for our 2019 wilderness walk.

          Scott Stillman is a lot more prepared for spending time in the remote wilderness of our country than was Jesus.  He goes into these experiences equipped with water and excellent food choices to give him the energy needed for such an adventure.  The gospel of Luke records that Jesus ate nothing during the forty days in the remote region of what is now Jordan.

          The author of Wilderness recounts one backpacking trip when his planning did not work out quite as well as he envisioned.  He was on a five-day solo journey through Sycamore Canyon Wilderness in Arizona.  The canyon was not providing the expected sources of water.  His four liters of water went down to one and then less and less.  His story gives depth to Jesus’ experience.  When you are hungry or thirsty the mind focuses on these needs.  As well it should. These are life threatening issues.  The human body needs water and food to survive.  It is no wonder that Jesus heard the lure of twisting his mission in the world to that of self-centered miracle worker – command the stone to provide for your physical needs.  Do anything to make the desperation go away.

          Our Lenten Journey may not be fraught with hunger and thirst.  Most people only give up one thing for their Lenten Fast.  The human body can subsist without chocolate or meat.  We may be uncomfortable, but we are nowhere near the crisis of decision brought on by no water, or no food.  That means we need to engage our minds and spirits this Lent to become aware of the pain and anguish brought on people for whom this deprivation is a stark reality. 

          Scott Stillman found water in the canyon walls as he slowly continued his trek.

          Jesus rebuffed the temptation when he said: One does not live by bread alone.

          Can we hear the cries of the families in Flint, Michigan who continue to be without safe drinking water?  Can we see that people are starving in Venezuela while relief is withheld on the other side of the border?  Can we give more to Food Pantries as part of our Lenten Discipline so that people in our county can eat nutritious food?

          The second Temptation connects with a very human desire, prosperity.  In the midst of the Great Depression, people wanted relief from the destitution around them.  After the WWII there was a period of “success”.  The machinery of war was transformed into the machinery of acquisition.  As a people, we bought a lot of things.
This impulse continued in the decades to follow.  We are a consumerist society.  We look from our own “mountaintops” and see all the things we want.  And we give celebrity status and deference to those who acquire the most.  And some of us want to be one of those with the “most toys” because “those with the most toys, win”.

          As a backpacker in the wilderness, Scott Stillman’s relationship with the environment and his experience of ecstasy over the beauty of creation has had the opposite effect on him.  For him, less is best because it allows him to experience the abundance that is right before each of us.  He writes about Dark Canyon Wilderness in Utah:

          Like dancers in sequins, the cottonwoods dazzle and sparkle against an illuminated backdrop of glowing red sandstone.  Such a glory to witness!  What’s so comforting, so reassuring, so gratifying, is the fact that this happens every day, whether I’m here or not.  The beauty remains.  Perfection exists!  Unfathomable.  Unconditional.  Long before we ever existed, long after we are gone.  This place exists.

          There are no roads, no motors, no scenic roped off viewpoints, no paved walkways.  No improvements. There’s only one thing to improve here.  Our respect.  Our empathy.  For the Earth.  The very soil beneath our feet.  This place we all come from, and will all return to, as does everything that nourishes our bodies to survive.
         
          Jesus responds to the Temptation of power and riches with the words:  It is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.’
         
          Scott Stillman does wilderness backpacking to appreciate the very essence of life on this earth and the sacredness of that life.
         
          On Ash Wednesday we are reminded:  Dust you are and to dust you will return. 

          The third Temptation Jesus endured was an invitation to invulnerability – power in the extreme.  “You can do no wrong”.  “God is on your side, so you have absolute license.”  Sadly authoritarian figures fall prey to this tempting idea.  We see this “protected absolutism” in homes, businesses and governments.  We also see some spectacular falls with no angels handy to help out!

          Scott Stillman does not recount anything that shows this hubris.  However his narrative introducing his walk into the wilderness of the desert between Moab and Hanksville, Utah, does show us the healthy self-awareness we can find in our own wilderness places.  He writes:

          It’s a time for gratitude and healing, both spiritual and physical.  And it’s a time to walk, simply walk, one foot in front of the other, and breathe in deep blissful silence.  It will take a few days for my busy mind to slow its chatter, but it always does.  So long as I’m patient, trust the process, and submit completely to a power much greater than myself.

          Solo trips are where I remember who I am.  Beneath this body, this face, this name.  In the end, I know too well that these details will fall away, and all that will remain is this pure silence, this pure light.  The same light I see in the eyes of a lizard, the eyes of a child, and the rocks, the plants, the lakes, the streams, the sun, the moon, the clouds, and the stars.  As divided as we may seem, we’re in this together.  In the end there is no separateness.  No lines drawn between you, me, rock and tree.  All of this I forget.  Over and over I forget.  Fortunately the desert is patient, reminding me again each time about the beauty, the silence, the light, and the miracle of all existence.

          Many of us have had similar revelations.  Perhaps in a church or monastery, high on a mountaintop, or gazing into the eyes of a newborn baby.  That experience when we stop thinking, even if just for a moment, and suddenly know – absolutely know – some overwhelming truth that we cannot put to words.  But these moments are fleeting, for as soon as we try to put them to words, label them in some way, we lose grasp.  We are back to thinking again and the moment is lost.  The truth is enough.  Just knowing that it exists.  So long as we don’t try to turn it into something.  Some thing, which it is not.

          Let’s go on a walk into Mystery.

Grace and Peace
Rev. Clara

Wilderness, The Gateway to the Soul, Scott Stillman, Wild Soul Press, Boulder, CO, 2018.

No comments:

Post a Comment