Jesus In The Wilderness

Rembrandt. Head of Christ. Philadelphia Art Museum.

It is Lent again, Jesus; the season that summons me into the wilderness with You and into the humiliation of heartfelt repentance. It is a call to stretch out my hand and grab hold of Yours, being quietly present to You in Your time of privation and temptation.

You willingly entered the desert, knowing You would endure anguishing deprivation, torment, and darkest temptation to prepare for the work of love You had come to accomplish for the redemption of the world. After forty long days, when You were utterly spent, the evil one came against You. He tempted You to assuage Your ravenous hunger and searing thirst by using the power he knew You possessed to turn the dry rocks into bread. When You refused, he took You to the highest point of the temple and dared You to show off Your spectacular powers by jumping off and ordering the angels to save You. Again, You refused. His final failure was to offer You all the kingdoms and wealth of the world in exchange for Your worship, but You refused, affirming God as the only source of Your identity. When he slithered away defeated, the angels rushed in to succor You.¹ I wish I could have been with them.

I have experienced my own wildernesses, but never willingly and never for love as You did. Now though, with the beautiful view of retrospect, I see that those painful times were, in reality, the merciful furnace of my transformation.² They were never times of separateness, but times that linked me to the Eternal, teaching me to be still and listen for Your voice of love calling me home. You were always there, walking with me through the fire of purification, mercifully recreating me and teaching me to take my identity not from the world, but from Your voice within which calls me Your beloved.³

Jesus, I have touched the luminous edges of infinite joy and fellowship with You and no longer want to settle for a half-hearted life of temporal entanglement. Help me to accept and embrace the mystery of all the wilderness times I have lived, and the ones that are still ahead. Move me to attend more and more to the prick of conscience and trust more and more the inner stirrings I sense from Your Spirit. Quiet my frantic fears. Succor me and settle me deeply into Your embrace, breaking open space for the yearnings and dreams of my heart to emerge and offer precious encouragement to another.

Betty shares more about the wilderness of transformation in this video.

1. Matthew 4:1-11.
2. More on this pp 22-23 The Hidden Life Awakened.
3. More on this pp 97-98 The Hidden Life Awakened