The Only Way Out is Through

For any who seek God, wilderness is familiar. 

This theme repeats again and again throughout and beyond scripture, with different peoples and places: Setting out in pursuit of a vision even though it is only partially revealed. Wondering at some point along the journey which way to go. And in the face of uncertainty, feeling tempted to give up and turn back. Yet, nonetheless, pressing onward.

Wilderness resonates with us because we can find its shape in our own lives. We have lived it. Each of us here, in many different ways, have known this reality… I wonder where wilderness has led you? And what have you discovered while wandering in wilderness? Perhaps what are you now discovering, and what do you need to hold onto while you wander? 

Setting out into places where the wild things are has a way of facilitating clarity.

Several years ago, while hiking in the backcountry of Yellowstone National Park, it was getting late in the day, and I had still not found my camp site for the night. I had expected to arrive already, for at least a few hours by that point, and now the sun was beginning to set. As dusk settled into that great wilderness, I felt a sense of panic slowly begin to rise within me. And then as I passed by the remains of a large bison, and wondered to myself what creatures might have been responsible for its fate, that feeling of panic started to become one of desperation. 

The sharpened focus of that moment has remained with me since. Now, to be sure I avoid any cliffhangers: I survived. I eventually found a safe refuge to make camp, and then found my way out in the morning. Even still, the experience surfaced a clarity that I came by honestly. Because whenever survival is at stake, whether it be in a national park or some other setting in our lives, there’s just no time for anything less than honest, radical candor with ourselves.

If we want to know something more than mere survival in our lives, perhaps thriving, seeing things as they are is necessary.

Psychologists refer to a notion of the “shadow side” of ourselves: which is made up of the repressed places and things in our unconscious that we rather prefer not to acknowledge, or outright deny. Our fears, doubts, insecurities.

It’s perfectly understandable that we prefer to turn away from these uncomfortable things. It’s not always easy to examine ourselves: to go into our hearts when we are not sure what we might find; to go into the heart of the world around us where we are given no assurance of safety. 

I heard it said recently though that we are presently living in a country with 400 years worth of collective shadow work that as a nation we refuse to engage—and no special psychological training is needed to see just how well that is working out for our common life. 

It may be tempting to invent creative false distractions to divert our attention, but it won’t lead to liberation. So, as another familiar saying goes, “tell the truth and shame the devil.” This is what the season of Lent is all about, and it is just what Jesus does in our Gospel lesson…

Jesus goes willingly into wilderness because he has been led there by the Spirit, and there he hears the lies of the Devil, or we might say The Temptor… It would seem that temptation is not a thing to be avoided but rather an inevitable reality to be faced. And neither does Jesus repress the voice of temptation or use it as a convenient excuse to turn away from what he has been led to do. Instead, Jesus willingly confronts half-truths and alternative facts, and refuses to place trust in the lies that surface in the wilderness. He holds onto a deeper truth and eventually, when he emerges on the other side, what happened in the wilderness makes all the difference for the good news he proclaims.

On this First Sunday in Lent, a similar invitation is put before us. Spirit beckons us to behold truth in wilderness. In much the same way as our forefathers in the faith wandered for forty years in the wilderness and Jesus for forty-days, we too have set off on a forty-day pilgrimage. 

A spiritual pilgrimage is a bit different from backpacking through the woods though... Because when we get lost, when we feel uncertain and disoriented, we are led to go even further into the wilderness. Spirit prompts us to press forward into that unknown so that we might be transformed. This is the nature of a spiritual life. And truthfully, it is what can feel so maddening about living spiritually and seeking God. 

In these weeks ahead through the Lenten season, what might it look like to give yourself fully to this path? To truly be “led up” and into whatever is calling for your attention?

I don’t know what that might be for you or what particular shape temptation might take in your life, or just what observing a “Holy Lent” might be for you in this time and season… 

Perhaps what is in need of examination though is just what our readings guide us toward today: the presence of sin in our own lives; the reality of evil that exists in our world. Our need for repentance, personally or collectively. Perhaps.

Maybe what is most in need of your attention are the lingering wounds from harmful things done unto us, or the pain of living as we’ve uniquely experienced it: all the things inside us that call out to be seen and patiently wait to be embraced.  

And maybe getting real and getting right with God, as we say, in this Lenten season might be a simple acknowledgement of our weakness and honestly crying out, “Come quickly to save us!” 

Whatever wilderness you are led into: the only way out is through. And you will not be alone.

Trust that the very same Spirit of God who goes before you will accompany you along the way. And as we set out, wherever our pilgrimages lead, that we might resist temptation, may we hold fast to an unwavering truth. In the words of the poet Jan Richardson: 

If you would enter 
into the wilderness
do not begin without a blessing.

Do not leave without hearing
who you are: 
Beloved,
named by the One
who has traveled this path
before you.