Gardens and Deserts

February 22, 2015

This morning's sermon began for us this year's Lenten journey with Mark's account of Jesus' baptism and temptation. Where Matthew and Luke give details of the latter, Mark simply tells us that after Jesus' baptism and the Father's affirmation of Jesus, the Holy Spirit drove him into the wilderness. I find Mark's language interesting. Where Matthew and Luke talk of Jesus being led into the wilderness, Mark says the Spirit "drove" him there, seemingly almost against his will. It wouldn't be the last time God took Jesus where he didn't want to go; three years later, he knelt in the garden of Gethsemane, begging the Father to "let this cup pass from me," hoping against hope that there was some way to salvation other than the cross.

We all prefer gardens as places of rest and refreshment. Park church's vision statement is that "We are a garden of God's delight, a planting of the Lord." Our desire is to be a place where as in a garden, people find beauty, rest, and refreshment. There is however, the other side to it. It was in a garden that sin first entered the world, and in a garden where Jesus fought the battle with the forces of darkness, and wrestled as did Jacob with God himself.

But there is also the wilderness; the desert; harsh places where life is reduced to its barest elements. The sun beats down mercilessly, shade and water are scarce; it is a place of danger and raw existence. I may be oversimplifying things, but our culture is a garden culture; we prefer well-watered places where cool breezes gently move through the treetops, the grass is lush, the flowers fragrant and beautiful. The problem with this is, as Christians, we are a people of the wilderness. God led his people into the wilderness for forty years. David's formative years were spent on the run from Saul in the desert places. Elijah met God after a forty day journey into the wilderness of Horeb. The Spirit drove Jesus into the desert to be tempted of the devil. Even St. Paul after his conversion went into the desert for three years before bursting upon the scene with his revelation of the Gospel. It seems there are things God can only teach us in the desert.

The Father spoke highly of his Son Jesus, but immediately afterwards, he drove him into the lonely harshness of the desert. Being chosen by God is a wonderful thing. It is also dangerous. We may have to face wild animals bent on devouring us. But it is also where we meet angels. I've been in desert places many times, none of which was fun. I didn't choose the desert; like Jesus, I was forced into it. But it is there, many times over, that I met angels; messengers of God who ministered to me in ways I never would have experienced in the gardens. I don't choose deserts; in fact, I avoid them if at all possible. But when God in his mysterious wisdom decides that there are lessons I'll only learn in desert places, I trust that when I get there, I will find as I have in the past, that he has sent his angels ahead of me to minister in ways I would never have known in the garden. And for those angels, I give thanks tonight.