Monday, December 10, 2012

Why does God speak in the deserts of our lives?


The Sacred text is replete with episodes that happen in the desert.  But I am sure that many would say that this would be expected since a large part of Palestine and the neighbouring areas have plenty of desert areas.  There is, however, much more to it than mere geography.  There’s something that a desert does to one who encounters it.  Many think that a desert is a lifeless place.  On one level, it is.  Yet, on many other levels, deserts do something to us when we enter into them with an openness and humility.


The message that was preached by John the Baptist was a heralding within the physical environs of a desert.  God was coming into the world and it was not going to be something proclaimed in the big ritzy cities where there was so much going on.  Instead, God wanted the proclamation of his entry into humanity to be made through a voice in the wilderness.  There seems to be no logic here.  What is the rationale for this absurd modus operandi?  It’s just not effective.  Or is it?

Deserts are more than mere physical places on the earth that are harsh and seemingly lifeless.  There are also deserts that we find ourselves in even though we may live hundreds of kilometers away from the piece of arid waste.  The situations that we find ourselves in life often have desert-like conditions.  Some would venture to say that the Church in some parts of the world are experiencing such conditions, where pews are empty, the faith of the believers are waning and these may have been precipitated by the scandals that have rocked the church.  Some would say that the Church is indeed in a desert time, and it is especially challenging when it is facing a wall of relativism that is influencing many. 

But this is not necessarily a bad thing in itself.  Sure, the scandals were horrible and there is no doubt that they were sinful.  In no way can they be exonerated.  But this period of mourning and desert silence may not necessarily be a bad thing for us.  Aren’t there many instances where there have been such experiences where it does seem that God has been somewhat absent in life, leaving us ‘abandoned’ and our souls somewhat parched?  It could be a crisis of some form, perhaps financial, or something that has impacted our physical health like a cancer diagnosis or some other ailment, or some natural calamity.  These can often leave us bereft of faith for sometime, or, as in many cases, be the way through which God is given a path that is cleared into our hearts.  The images from the prophet Isaiah speak of one preparing the way of the Lord, where paths are made straight, and valleys filled, with the leveling of mountains and rough ways made smooth. 

The desert is indeed a tough place to survive in, but it is also a place where one can truly begin to listen to oneself.  There are little distractions, hardly any bright lights and sounds that can unsettle and disconcert us, and if we are really going to survive, there has to be a determination to rely on the Grace of God, and to set our sights on the route out.  One hardly goes into a desert to remain there forever.  It usually is a necessary route one takes to get to another safe haven. 

The Advent journey, when seen along those lines, can help us to prepare ourselves to welcome the Lord – not the infant Jesus at Christmas, as he has already come.  Rather, it reminds us to also prepare, far more importantly, for the second coming of Christ at the end of time, or of our lives whichever comes first.  

2 comments:

  1. The celebrant at today’s mass said that God, true to His nature, is always reaching out to us, can never stop seeking us out, whilst we, in our frail human nature, are always moving away from Him, even hiding from His gaze for we are fearful of seeing our unworthiness, our imperfections reflected there in His gaze..........just like in the case of our first parents. And that is why the words of the Prophet Isaiah in today’s first reading has such a poignancy that seems to resonate to the very fibre of our being when he calls out, ‘’I, the Lord, your God, I am holding you by the right hand; I tell you, ‘Do not be afraid, I will help you.’

    This would mean that God has never stopped speaking to us, whether it be in our joyful or desert moments.................He has never been absent, but it is we ourselves, who have not been present to Him. His voice is drowned out by ‘’the bright lights and sounds that can unsettle and disconcert us,’’ by the big and little distractions of our busy daily living. And as you said, it is in the desert then that ‘’one truly begin to listen to oneself,’’ ..........to the whisper of the heart, where He dwells! It is in the desert’s formidable solitude that Silence is allowed to speak. Sometimes, I find that it is not only the external sounds that distract. But my daily living is choked full with so much busy-ness, so much of myself that there is no room for Him.....He becomes an after-thought!

    Advent, then, is a timely reminder to ‘’empty self’ to make room for Him.......... in the inn of my heart.

    God bless you, Fr
    tessa

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  2. Thank you Fr. Luke for the sharing. (even though the time i read this post and commented is out of sync) but i am glad that i am able to understand (and one day the following words wld definitely be of applicable use to me when d desert hits) :
    " The desert is indeed a tough place to survive in, but it is also a place where one can truly begin to listen to oneself.  There are little distractions, hardly any bright lights and sounds that can unsettle and disconcert us, and if we are really going to survive, there has to be a determination to rely on the Grace of God, and to set our sights on the route out.  One hardly goes into a desert to remain there forever.  It usually is a necessary route one takes to get to another safe haven. "

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