A Strategy for the Wilderness

Sermon preached by the Rev. Lowell E. Grisham, Rector
St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Fayetteville, Arkansas
March 1, 2009; 1 Lent, Year B
Episcopal Revised Common Lectionary

(Mark 1:9-15) – In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."

And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.

Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news."
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Do you remember the acceptance speech that Sally Field gave when she won her second Oscar? Sally Field started her career on TV as Gidget, a boy-crazy surfer girl, and was best known as The Flying Nun. With her cute smile and big dimples, she had a hard time getting cast into serious roles. She won an Academy Award in 1979 for Norma Rae, a performance that established her as a dramatic actress. But it was at the 1984 Oscars, when she won Best Actress for Places in the Heart, that her acceptance speech stunned so many people for its tearful honesty and vulnerability. "I haven't had an orthodox career," she said, "and I've wanted more than anything to have your respect. The first time I didn't feel it, but this time I feel it, and I can't deny the fact that you like me, right now, you like me!"

Sally Field realized that she had been given something that she had always sought. She had the respect of her peers in her profession. It validated something deep within her, and she was overjoyed. Underneath that joy, I suspect, was a deep well-spring of peace. Maybe she could relax now. She wasn't just Gidget or the Flying Nun anymore. She had a new and more profound sense of affirmation of her identity.

According to the accounts that we have, Jesus experienced a profound sense of affirmation and identity at his baptism. Mark writes, "As he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, 'You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.'" He could feel it, and couldn't deny the fact that God loved him, right there, right then."

Maybe you can remember moments in your life when you felt a deep sense of appreciation or belonging. When you were able to embrace yourself, able to claim a particular sense of identity or role or vocation. When you felt respected, accepted, even loved.

We had an exercise in our Journey to Accountability class the other day when I asked the participants to think of some time in your life when you did something well and you were fulfilled in doing it. Then, I asked them to list as many of these as they could, at least ten. Maybe single events, maybe a series of events like raising a child. When were times when you did something well and you were fulfilled in doing it.

Memories like that can be clues to our gifts and our calling. Usually they are times when we have experienced a sense of identity and affirmation. It is good to remember such times. They remind us of our capacities and qualities. They remind us that we are good and worthy, and even "beloved."

We all need to know ourselves to be "beloved." We need to be able to feel it, deep in our bones. To know in such a way that we cannot deny the fact, that we are loved. It is a fundamental, core, bedrock message of the Gospel of Christ and a foundational teaching of Christianity that God loves each of us absolutely and unconditionally. I hope everyone in this room knows that you are "Beloved" – that you are loved, respected and accepted. I hope that everyone here has felt that as certainly as Sally Field felt it at her second Academy Award. If she ever forgets, she can go back to YouTube and replay it. The rest of us either need our memories, or symbols that can jog our memories, to remind us that we are "Beloved."

Those memories are important, because we don't stay in the afterglow and peace of the experience of being loved unconditionally. We need to treasure and recall that reality, because much of our lives is spent in the wilderness. After Jesus' baptism, and the exquisite experience of hearing the voice from heaven tell him that he is Beloved, "the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness." He was in the wilderness a long time.

The wilderness is the place where the conviction that we are Beloved is tested. In the wilderness we do not feel beloved. In the wilderness we feel threatened. We feel unloved, maybe even unlovable. We feel stuck, powerless, out of control. Many of us spend a long time in the wilderness, like Jesus did.

Sometimes the wilderness can last for years, as it did for the people of Israel after their deliverance from bondage. After Mother Teresa died, we all learned what her spiritual director had known – she lived virtually her entire life in the wilderness, feeling only the absence of God, living faithfully upon the remembrance of a profound sense of calling in 1947 and a brief feeling of union with God in 1958. The rest of her life was a spiritual desert, but it produced a garden of healing and love.

I remember a time just after I had found my sense of belonging and vocation. I had become the Rector of my first church. I loved my work; I loved my community. This seemed like what I was born to do. I experienced a sense of affirmation and identity. But some time, within a year or two, I felt tired and depressed. I talked with a friend who was a therapist. "Burnout," he said. "Classic stuff." So I read a book about Ministry Burnout by John Sanford, and I learned that it is easy to become over-extended and out of balance. Writing as an Episcopal priest and Jungian analyst, Sanford said that our renewing energy often comes out of our shadow side or our inferior functions. In Jungian language, I had so over-used my dominant Intuitive functions that I had burned myself out. He recommended functioning out of the opposite side of my personality, the Sensate functions, to restore some balance and bring new energy. So I started digging a hole in the back yard to build a fish pond – a very physical, sensate activity, with concrete, visible results. I started feeling better immediately. Now I know, whenever I begin to feel worn out and over-burdened – do something physical. That is a path out of my particular wilderness.

When we teach about making a Rule of Life, I encourage people to make a strategy for the wilderness times. You know that you will go through periods of discouragement or disillusionment. We all do. Usually we revisit the same deserts we've been to before – the issues may be different or the circumstances altered, but usually we have characteristic, repetitive patterns when our wheels fall off.

So while we're in a good space – when we're feeling beloved or balanced or purposeful – that's the best time to plan a strategy for responding for the next time we're down-in-the-dumps and living in the wilderness.

What's worked for you in the past to bring you balance and energy? When life gets out of balance, how can you shift toward those things that are like the times when you did something well and you were fulfilled in doing it? Where do you find your grounding? Where is your foundation?

Matthew and Luke offer expanded accounts of Jesus in the wilderness. What sustained him was that he recalled the reality of his relationship with God – he remembered that he was God's beloved, and so he lived out of that reality instead of false comforts that tempted him when he felt especially weak and burdened.

When we know ourselves to be loved, grounded, respected, accepted – when we embrace the reality that we are beloved – we are less compulsive and more real. If we have a plan to remember that reality during our sojourns into the wilderness, we can bring some of the healing and balancing energy of blessing to our times of lostness. While we are with the wild beasts, we can realize that the angels wait on us.

When Jesus finally left the wilderness, he was ready to do something new. He was ready to proclaim the good news – "The time is fulfilled, and the Kingdom of God has come near." He may never have reached that place of power and authenticity without having gone through the period of testing and trial. There is something given to us through the wilderness. It seems inevitable and important.

So if you are in a desert wilderness right now, take heart. Lent is a great time to face your dryness. Or if you are in a time of fruitfulness and effectiveness right now, take the opportunity. Plan for how you will face your next venture into the desert. What will you do to renew your sense of affirmation and identity? How will you remember the fact that you are Beloved – how will you feel again that you are the beloved child of God, that you are loved and accepted absolutely and unconditionally? When you are in the desert next, you will want to remember the waters of your baptism, and you will want to drink deeply again. Remember now, and get your canteen ready.
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