Wherever you look - the sand and sky
The sea is out of sight weaving its old message
(Circa 1974 - 1980)
Leslie Giddens
The theme of the desert experience appears frequently within the scriptures, and also in the writings of Christians throughout the Centuries. In point of fact, the desert experience is necessary for all Christians as part of their spiritual growth; without it our spirituality can remain immature and unauthentic.
The sea is out of sight weaving its old message
(Circa 1974 - 1980)
Leslie Giddens
The theme of the desert experience appears frequently within the scriptures, and also in the writings of Christians throughout the Centuries. In point of fact, the desert experience is necessary for all Christians as part of their spiritual growth; without it our spirituality can remain immature and unauthentic.
The desert, in the literal sense, is an extreme environment of heat, dryness and emptiness, where the odds for the survival of life are stacked against it. The other desert is an inner place - the desert of the heart - where, too, we have to face emptiness and dryness before any spiritual progress can be made.
The exterior desert symbolically reflects its deeper spiritual counterpart. We can find many of these experiences within scripture. The major story within the Old Testament most easily recallable is that of Moses leading the Israelites into the wilderness, where they remained for forty years, being tested, before any possibility of reaching the promised land.
In the New Testament, too, we see Jesus being led by the Spirit into the desert following his baptism. Christ remained there for forty days and forty nights, fasting, and being tempted by Satan. If the Son of God was to be led into this wilderness, then we should not be surprised about our necessity to enter it too.
St Paul, that great man of spiritual depth, informs us that following his conversion, from persecutor to witness, he went into the desert:
"…I was in no hurry to confer with any human being, or to go up to Jerusalem to see those who were already apostles before me. Instead, I went off to Arabia, and later I came back to Damascus. Only after three years did I go up to Jerusalem…" (Galatians 1:16-18)
What does Arabia mean to us if not the desert?
We cannot contemplate truly what happened to St Paul in his years spent in this wilderness, but from the evidence of his following ministry we can see that he had grown spiritually.
From early Centuries we are also given testimonies of the Desert Fathers and Mothers who inhabited the desert lands of the Middle East from the end of the second century AD onwards, living hermitic lives in pursuit of God. Their outer journey to the sands reflected their inner journey to the spirit. Their legacy - writings, which contain profound spiritual truths written with simple brevity.
Today, too, we have witnesses from those who lead monastic lives, whether they be Trappist Monks, Carthusians, Benedictines, Carmelites, Greek Orthodox, Russian Orthodox, or even monks from other religions - that the desert experience is a prerequisite to spiritual growth.
However, it is not to the desert of sun, sky and sands all us as Christians are to journey, but to the interior destination of silence, stillness and solitude. It is in this latter desert where we will be tried, tested and tempted - as were the Israelites, Christ, St Paul, the Desert Fathers, and any Christian living within a religious community.
Two questions arise about this desert experience: Why do we have to go there? And what is our means for journeying there?
We have to enter it to be transformed; to become Christ-like, so that we may fulfill our God-given vocations, whatever they may be, with sincere authenticity. We may believe that we are already fulfilling this, but the deeper self-knowledge one experiences in this interior desert will quite clearly show that our motivations are not quite as we think. Because of our subtle techniques for control, manipulation and people pleasing, we realise that many "good works" we have formerly performed have been serving man - not God. Evidence of this can be seen plainly within our Churches; what we term "good works" may, in fact, be busy activities disguised under the name of evangelism. I can state this through my own experience. Three times, in three different churches, I have been manipulated into "serving in the name of Christ" when this quite categorically wasn't the case. Although at the time I felt it was against my inner truth, I went along with the tasks assigned me. In retrospect, I find the prospect of this happening to others quite frightening. It does not lead to the spiritual growth of a person. In fact, it has the opposite effect, keeping us distracted, and so keeping us on a superficial level of Christianity.
St Paul speaks to the Churches about this:
"And so, brothers, I was not able to talk to you as spiritual people; I had to talk to you as people still living by your natural inclinations, still infants in Christ; I fed you with milk and not solid food, for you were not able to take it - and even now you are still not able to, for you are still living by your natural inclinations…" (1 Corinthians 3:1-3)
Again, St Paul repeats his convictions a little later on:
"Indeed, when you should by this time have become masters, you need someone to teach you all over again the elements of the principles of God's sayings; you have gone back to needing milk and not solid food. Truly, no one who is still living on milk can digest the doctrine of saving justice, being still a baby. Solid food is for adults with minds trained by practice to distinguish between good and bad.
"Let us leave behind us then all the elementary teaching about Christ and go to its completion, without going over the fundamental doctrines again: the turning away from dead actions, faith in God, the teaching about baptism and the laying-on of hands, about the resurrection of the dead and eternal judgement. This, God willing, is what we propose to do." (Hebrews 5:12--6:1-3)
These pieces of scripture have something very noteworthy to show all members of the Church - that there is a desperate need for our growth in spiritual maturity. We can resist it, carrying on as normal, or we can participate by entering the desert of the heart. It is only if we allow this to happen, then the "good works" that we do, even if it's the practicing of spiritual gifts, will prove fruitful, in keeping with the fruitfulness of Christ.
The desert of the heart is the place we journey to to meet God. It is in this meeting, with our eyes fixed on His perfect divinity, that we begin to know our own selves. In doing so, we are convicted of our own sinfulness, and called to deeper repentance. It's the place Christ calls us to be alone with Him. It is where we hear him say, "You cannot follow me unless you leave mother, father, brother" (Matthew 9:29) If we refuse to deceive ourselves, and follow his voice, then we begin to experience the cross of death and resurrection on a daily basis, entering the deeper mysteries of God, living freer and more peaceful lives with the love which infuses us.
Some Christians deceive themselves by thinking they enter this desert, but they have usually entered a world of fantasy, seeking rather to find the nearest oasis where they can settle smugly among their illusions, without journeying further into the center of the desert where they would be purged by the heat of the sun. Many tactics of evasion can be deployed, which act like parasols sheltering us from these purifying rays. Others, as the old saying goes, place their heads in the sand, not wanting to know about the journey. For these people have found their reward - self-satisfaction at a level of spirituality they are "comfortable" with, as was the case of the Pharisee who made lengthy prayers. If only they were to raise their heads from the sand, put down their shields, and have the courage to walk away from the shallow waters of their oasis, once their purging has made headway, they would find the true and living waters of Christ, the waters, which at Jacob's Well, Jesus promised the Samaritan woman. (John 4:14)
For most of us, we are unable to travel geographically to the wilderness of deserts, and we may not be particularly called to enter a religious community, but each one of us is called to enter the desert of the heart, the place where the "old man" is shed to become clothed with the "new man." It is through this experience of transformation that we emerge, made humble, wise and discerning vessels of love.
The fruits of the desert experience are beautiful. Our works from henceforth are blessed by God, as they are done in the power of the Holy Spirit. We can see this plainly by Christ's emergence from the desert:
Jesus, with the power of the spirit in him, returned to Galilee; and his reputation spread throughout the countryside. He taught in their synagogues and everyone glorified him.
He came to Nazara, where he had been brought up, and went into the synagogue on the Sabbath day as he usually did. He stood up to read, and they handed him the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. Unrolling the scroll he found the place where it is written:
"The Spirit of the Lord is on me, for he has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives, sight to the blind, let the oppressed go free, to proclaim a year of favour from the Lord."
He then rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the assistant and sat down. All eyes in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to speak to them, "This text is being fulfilled today even while you are listening."
(Luke 4:14-21)
These were the words Jesus uttered at the beginning of his ministry; on his return from the desert. The Son of God, full of the Holy Spirit, and in perfect communion with his Father, beginning his ministry in the thirtieth year of his life on earth. This should teach us something.
Our journey to the desert consists mainly of waiting in the stillness and silence, placing ourselves before God, through the practice of contemplative prayer. This prayer, if practiced faithfully, makes us receptive to the things of God; and following our call to deeper repentance, slowly but surely we become instructed and illumined to our real vocations; that of beneficial intercessors for the whole world by our good works.
Contemplative prayer is not considered seriously enough within the Church. Frequently I have heard members speak about the matter, and through ignorance, classify ministries under two separate headings: Active or Contemplative. There is such an unnecessary division here, but there shouldn't be. It is also the active who is the one inclined to divide the two, and keep these barriers erected; the contemplative, the one who works towards the annihilation of this boundary. The reason for this is because the contemplative has made that journey to the inner desert, and has been awakened to the truth - that good works do indeed stem from the silence. And when these good works are performed, they are fruitful, because they are done in accordance with God's will. Therefore, from the viewpoint of this journey to the desert, the contemplative has managed to integrate both active and contemplative, becoming the perfect balanced combination between Martha and Mary.
Contemplative prayer, which also has the titles of Silent Prayer, Prayer of the Heart, and many other names, will never be very popular. For one, our minds, which have not yet become Christ-like, refuse to believe that we can ever achieve anything in this stillness and silence, and so remain unwilling to face our inner restlessness and emptiness. Paradoxically, if these inner states are faced by the active, and worked through, they will become the nucleus for a life of continual death and rebirth within us, taking us deeper into the divinity of the Holy Trinity, and being able to bring a little something of the Holy Trinity into the world.
For us, the journey to the desert of the heart will continue to remain perplexing unless it is experienced by participation. It is the duty of every single Christian to become a true disciple of Christ, and so there is a necessity to make that journey for the sake of His coming Kingdom.
"If you love truth, become a lover of silence."
In the New Testament, too, we see Jesus being led by the Spirit into the desert following his baptism. Christ remained there for forty days and forty nights, fasting, and being tempted by Satan. If the Son of God was to be led into this wilderness, then we should not be surprised about our necessity to enter it too.
St Paul, that great man of spiritual depth, informs us that following his conversion, from persecutor to witness, he went into the desert:
"…I was in no hurry to confer with any human being, or to go up to Jerusalem to see those who were already apostles before me. Instead, I went off to Arabia, and later I came back to Damascus. Only after three years did I go up to Jerusalem…" (Galatians 1:16-18)
What does Arabia mean to us if not the desert?
We cannot contemplate truly what happened to St Paul in his years spent in this wilderness, but from the evidence of his following ministry we can see that he had grown spiritually.
From early Centuries we are also given testimonies of the Desert Fathers and Mothers who inhabited the desert lands of the Middle East from the end of the second century AD onwards, living hermitic lives in pursuit of God. Their outer journey to the sands reflected their inner journey to the spirit. Their legacy - writings, which contain profound spiritual truths written with simple brevity.
Today, too, we have witnesses from those who lead monastic lives, whether they be Trappist Monks, Carthusians, Benedictines, Carmelites, Greek Orthodox, Russian Orthodox, or even monks from other religions - that the desert experience is a prerequisite to spiritual growth.
However, it is not to the desert of sun, sky and sands all us as Christians are to journey, but to the interior destination of silence, stillness and solitude. It is in this latter desert where we will be tried, tested and tempted - as were the Israelites, Christ, St Paul, the Desert Fathers, and any Christian living within a religious community.
Two questions arise about this desert experience: Why do we have to go there? And what is our means for journeying there?
We have to enter it to be transformed; to become Christ-like, so that we may fulfill our God-given vocations, whatever they may be, with sincere authenticity. We may believe that we are already fulfilling this, but the deeper self-knowledge one experiences in this interior desert will quite clearly show that our motivations are not quite as we think. Because of our subtle techniques for control, manipulation and people pleasing, we realise that many "good works" we have formerly performed have been serving man - not God. Evidence of this can be seen plainly within our Churches; what we term "good works" may, in fact, be busy activities disguised under the name of evangelism. I can state this through my own experience. Three times, in three different churches, I have been manipulated into "serving in the name of Christ" when this quite categorically wasn't the case. Although at the time I felt it was against my inner truth, I went along with the tasks assigned me. In retrospect, I find the prospect of this happening to others quite frightening. It does not lead to the spiritual growth of a person. In fact, it has the opposite effect, keeping us distracted, and so keeping us on a superficial level of Christianity.
St Paul speaks to the Churches about this:
"And so, brothers, I was not able to talk to you as spiritual people; I had to talk to you as people still living by your natural inclinations, still infants in Christ; I fed you with milk and not solid food, for you were not able to take it - and even now you are still not able to, for you are still living by your natural inclinations…" (1 Corinthians 3:1-3)
Again, St Paul repeats his convictions a little later on:
"Indeed, when you should by this time have become masters, you need someone to teach you all over again the elements of the principles of God's sayings; you have gone back to needing milk and not solid food. Truly, no one who is still living on milk can digest the doctrine of saving justice, being still a baby. Solid food is for adults with minds trained by practice to distinguish between good and bad.
"Let us leave behind us then all the elementary teaching about Christ and go to its completion, without going over the fundamental doctrines again: the turning away from dead actions, faith in God, the teaching about baptism and the laying-on of hands, about the resurrection of the dead and eternal judgement. This, God willing, is what we propose to do." (Hebrews 5:12--6:1-3)
These pieces of scripture have something very noteworthy to show all members of the Church - that there is a desperate need for our growth in spiritual maturity. We can resist it, carrying on as normal, or we can participate by entering the desert of the heart. It is only if we allow this to happen, then the "good works" that we do, even if it's the practicing of spiritual gifts, will prove fruitful, in keeping with the fruitfulness of Christ.
The desert of the heart is the place we journey to to meet God. It is in this meeting, with our eyes fixed on His perfect divinity, that we begin to know our own selves. In doing so, we are convicted of our own sinfulness, and called to deeper repentance. It's the place Christ calls us to be alone with Him. It is where we hear him say, "You cannot follow me unless you leave mother, father, brother" (Matthew 9:29) If we refuse to deceive ourselves, and follow his voice, then we begin to experience the cross of death and resurrection on a daily basis, entering the deeper mysteries of God, living freer and more peaceful lives with the love which infuses us.
Some Christians deceive themselves by thinking they enter this desert, but they have usually entered a world of fantasy, seeking rather to find the nearest oasis where they can settle smugly among their illusions, without journeying further into the center of the desert where they would be purged by the heat of the sun. Many tactics of evasion can be deployed, which act like parasols sheltering us from these purifying rays. Others, as the old saying goes, place their heads in the sand, not wanting to know about the journey. For these people have found their reward - self-satisfaction at a level of spirituality they are "comfortable" with, as was the case of the Pharisee who made lengthy prayers. If only they were to raise their heads from the sand, put down their shields, and have the courage to walk away from the shallow waters of their oasis, once their purging has made headway, they would find the true and living waters of Christ, the waters, which at Jacob's Well, Jesus promised the Samaritan woman. (John 4:14)
For most of us, we are unable to travel geographically to the wilderness of deserts, and we may not be particularly called to enter a religious community, but each one of us is called to enter the desert of the heart, the place where the "old man" is shed to become clothed with the "new man." It is through this experience of transformation that we emerge, made humble, wise and discerning vessels of love.
The fruits of the desert experience are beautiful. Our works from henceforth are blessed by God, as they are done in the power of the Holy Spirit. We can see this plainly by Christ's emergence from the desert:
Jesus, with the power of the spirit in him, returned to Galilee; and his reputation spread throughout the countryside. He taught in their synagogues and everyone glorified him.
He came to Nazara, where he had been brought up, and went into the synagogue on the Sabbath day as he usually did. He stood up to read, and they handed him the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. Unrolling the scroll he found the place where it is written:
"The Spirit of the Lord is on me, for he has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives, sight to the blind, let the oppressed go free, to proclaim a year of favour from the Lord."
He then rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the assistant and sat down. All eyes in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to speak to them, "This text is being fulfilled today even while you are listening."
(Luke 4:14-21)
These were the words Jesus uttered at the beginning of his ministry; on his return from the desert. The Son of God, full of the Holy Spirit, and in perfect communion with his Father, beginning his ministry in the thirtieth year of his life on earth. This should teach us something.
Our journey to the desert consists mainly of waiting in the stillness and silence, placing ourselves before God, through the practice of contemplative prayer. This prayer, if practiced faithfully, makes us receptive to the things of God; and following our call to deeper repentance, slowly but surely we become instructed and illumined to our real vocations; that of beneficial intercessors for the whole world by our good works.
Contemplative prayer is not considered seriously enough within the Church. Frequently I have heard members speak about the matter, and through ignorance, classify ministries under two separate headings: Active or Contemplative. There is such an unnecessary division here, but there shouldn't be. It is also the active who is the one inclined to divide the two, and keep these barriers erected; the contemplative, the one who works towards the annihilation of this boundary. The reason for this is because the contemplative has made that journey to the inner desert, and has been awakened to the truth - that good works do indeed stem from the silence. And when these good works are performed, they are fruitful, because they are done in accordance with God's will. Therefore, from the viewpoint of this journey to the desert, the contemplative has managed to integrate both active and contemplative, becoming the perfect balanced combination between Martha and Mary.
Contemplative prayer, which also has the titles of Silent Prayer, Prayer of the Heart, and many other names, will never be very popular. For one, our minds, which have not yet become Christ-like, refuse to believe that we can ever achieve anything in this stillness and silence, and so remain unwilling to face our inner restlessness and emptiness. Paradoxically, if these inner states are faced by the active, and worked through, they will become the nucleus for a life of continual death and rebirth within us, taking us deeper into the divinity of the Holy Trinity, and being able to bring a little something of the Holy Trinity into the world.
For us, the journey to the desert of the heart will continue to remain perplexing unless it is experienced by participation. It is the duty of every single Christian to become a true disciple of Christ, and so there is a necessity to make that journey for the sake of His coming Kingdom.
"If you love truth, become a lover of silence."
St Issac of Syria
© Steven Winwright 2002
All Biblical quotes taken from the New Jerusalem Bible.
