Necessary Struggle

Message for the First Sunday in Lent, Year B (2/21/2021)

Mark 1:9-15

Did you notice that Jesus’ departure into the desert isn’t voluntary? It’s the Spirit of God that descends to claim him at his baptism that then immediately drives him into the wilderness. And, there he remains for forty days; long enough to come face to face with the Accuser, God’s own adversary; long enough to become familiar with the wild animals; long enough to recognize and receive the ministry of angels. That’s powerful imagery to describe a defining personal struggle – physical strain and spiritual conflict, social isolation and mysterious accompaniment, temptation and consolation. And, it’s all at the Spirit’s bidding.

We’re likely to overlook this little episode in verses twelve and thirteen of the first chapter of Mark, treating it as a narrative interlude, a bonus scene between Jesus’ baptism and the beginning of his ministry. He was always going to proceed eventually from the Jordan to Galilee to step into his Messianic role, right? The desert excursion is just a spiritual pit stop, a little tuning up before the big race begins. But, verses twelve and thirteen form the very basis of our Lenten observance; “the forty-day season of Lent is modeled on Jesus’ forty days in the desert.”[1] And in Mark, the details are evocative, yet sparse. So, what are we to make of Jesus’ wilderness experience, and what does it have to do with our lives?

Clearly, it’s formative. Whatever the content of Jesus’ testing, whatever the inner turmoil and external support, whatever lesson nature has to teach, by the time his forty days are finished Jesus is resolved to get after it: “The time is fulfilled,” he declares as soon as he emerges from the desert and arrives on the scene in Galilee, “The time is fulfilled, and the reign of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

In the wilderness, Jesus has the chance to let his God-given identity sink in – You are my Beloved – and test it against any lie the Devil might whisper in his ear, any doubt the Accuser might try to sow. In the wilderness, Jesus has the chance to don his mantle as the new Adam, settling into complete solidarity with all of God’s good creation. In the wilderness, Jesus has the chance to perceive the presence of angels, heaven-sent attendants whose accompaniment strengthens him in a time of hardship. Maybe there’s divine wisdom in the struggle after all – contending with the wilderness, Jesus becomes who he’s meant to be.

I contend that we need time in the desert, too. Periods of struggle are necessary, not because struggle is good in and of itself, but because it’s inevitable. What difficult choice can we make, what sense of identity or purpose can we clarify, what wisdom can we gain without struggle? Like a crucible, struggle shapes our lives in ways we might not expect, yet we come to accept and perhaps even embrace.

Let me invite you at this time to revisit a wilderness experience in your life. As a spiritual exercise, let me guide you through a brief meditation on a memory. If this kind of spirituality is unfamiliar to you, that’s ok. I encourage you to relax into grace as you open yourself to whatever emerges. Before we begin, make sure you’re seated in a comfortable position, and if it’s helpful, close your eyes and breathe deeply.

As the moments pass in silence, let your mind travel gently to a period of struggle from your past. Perhaps it was a search for identity, or a season of vocational uncertainty, or a difficult transition, or a change in a key relationship or relationships, or a crisis of faith.

Once you’ve settled on a memory of personal struggle, I invite you to sit with it for a little while. What feelings arose for you in that time? Where do you hold the memory of those feelings in your body? What fundamental questions emerged? What doubts or worries lingered?

What held you in your time in the wilderness? How did you persevere in spite of any anxiety or distress? What key resources or relationships sustained and encouraged you?

When did your struggle begin to give way? What new insights or possibilities presented themselves? What did you learn about yourself? How did your time in the desert inform your way forward?

Now, I invite you to offer a silent prayer of gratitude for whatever God has offered you by way of this exercise. And, whenever you’re ready, slowly bring your attention back to our gathering.

Beloved, the struggle is real. Following Jesus into the wilderness in Lent isn’t just liturgical make-believe. No, these forty days are set apart as a season to acknowledge our own times of trial, the struggles of our past but also those we face today and those that await us in the future. And, for as difficult as wilderness times can be, let’s honor them for the ways they form and reform us, attune us to God’s mercy and love, and prepare us for the next stage of the journey.

[1] Barbara Brown Taylor, in Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 2, 47.