The season of Lent is a 40-day period that begins with Ash Wednesday and culminates on Holy Saturday (the day before Easter).
The number “40” seems to be featured in the bible quite a few times, e.g. the Israelites wandered in the wilderness for 40 years; prophet Elijah ran across the desert 40 days and 40 nights to Mt Horeb when his life was threatened by Queen Jezebel; before Jesus began his public ministry, he was led into the wilderness where he fasted for 40 days and nights.
Besides the number “40”, what is the other common thing you notice in all these three accounts?
It’s the wilderness or desert!
The desert is a vast and harsh landscape. The ground is often cracked and parched, with patches of sand that stretch endlessly into the horizon. The air feels dry, carrying the faint scent of dust and salt. The sky is often clear, with little to block the sun’s unrelenting rays, making the temperature swing between scorching days and chilling nights.
Figuratively, we can say that we are journeying in the wilderness when our lives are going through a very tough season so much so that we may be hanging on by the skin of our teeth. It could be a dilapidating illness, unrelenting pain, long-suffering caregiving, prolonged unemployment, abusive relationships, toxic unforgiveness or paralysing addictions.
You feel hopeless because you do not see the light at the end of the tunnel. It is as if you are in the desert where the sand stretches endlessly into the horizon.
You feel abandoned by the people around you and even by God. The feeling does not commensurate with reality, yet you cannot help but lament – “People do not care!” “Where are you, Lord?” Prayers seem to be unanswered; spiritually you feel as dry as the desert air. Loneliness sets in, and very often, self-pity, resentment and depression follow suit.
As much as we hope that God can teleport us out of the wilderness, deliver us from our dire circumstance by the snap of his fingers, he has other plans for us.
The wilderness is not a place of abandonment; it is a place of preparation, and we are to journey through it; there is no short cut. It is part of our cross carrying, dying to ourselves in order that we may be raised to newness of life.
What do we crucify on our crosses? How should we deny ourselves?
I recently came across the teaching of AJ Sherrill, pastor of Saint Peter’s Church in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina, on the 3 temptations that Jesus faced, how he said “no” to each of them, and what these temptations look like in our day and age. He distilled them into appetite, approval and ambition.
“Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Matthew 4:4).
Turning stones into bread is to satisfy one’s appetite but Jesus chose to depend on the Word of God to sustain him.
It is very common for people to fast during the season of Lent by crucifying their appetites on the cross.
We can choose to fast from food, from caffeine, from gadgets, or from whatever we are addicted to, and instead of eating, drinking or watching, we spend time in his Word and prayer, depending on Jesus to see us through whatever withdrawal symptoms we may experience.
When we overly rely on satisfying our appetites to make us feel good or feel alive, then it is timely to crucify them on the cross so that truly to have Jesus is enough!
“If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down, for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone’” (Matthew 4:6).
This has to do with approval. Satan challenged Jesus, “Prove that you are the Son of God by hurling yourself down and let the angels catch you,” and he responded, “Do not put God to the test!”
Jesus did not need to prove himself to Satan. He only looked to God’s approval, and he knew that he was God’s beloved.
We often have a great need for approval so much so that we dare not live authentic lives in case people judge us; we also dare not speak the truth or stand up for justice. We go around trying to please everyone, to meet everyone’s expectations, but we get all stressed up because we know that we are doing the impossible.
We must crucify our need for approval – there is nothing for us to prove, nothing for us to lose, nothing for us hide.
“Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. And he said to him, ‘All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me’” (Matthew 4: 8, 9). Jesus was not going to fall for Satan’s trick. He said, “Worship God alone!”
Appetite, approval and lastly, ambition.
We have ambitions, and when we chase them one by one, thinking that the next contract secured, the next million dollar earned, the next promotion attained will give us fulfilment, then these become idols which we worship. We need to nail them to the cross!
Prepare to lose the contract if you have to lie to secure it; prepare to earn less if it means having more time for kingdom’s work; prepare to put the family first at the cost of your promotion.
As we continue our journey across the wilderness, let us keep our eyes peeled for the cross. “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32) We do have many things that we can give thanks to God for, just like there remain beautiful things for our eyes to behold in the desert.
There the dunes that rise and fall like waves, while rocky plateaus and jagged cliffs offer striking contrasts in texture and colour. Cacti, hardy shrubs, and small, tenacious plants dot the landscape. Some desert flowers bloom in brilliant bursts of colour when the rain comes, creating a vibrant spectacle.
All these can represent the blessings that come our way however tough our situations may be, opportunities where we experience the love of God through the love that others show us, or circumstances where we enjoy some reprieve from God’s merciful hands.
Most of all, we give thanks for the salvation we have in Christ, and that he continues to use our desert experience to sanctify us.
The silence in the desert can be profound, broken only by the occasional rustle of wind against the sand, the distant call of a bird, or the shifting of rocks. There’s a sense of isolation and vastness.
In our wilderness journey, it is to our benefit that we cultivate the spiritual discipline of silence and solitude.
“Be still and know that I am God” (Ps 46: 10).
Ruth Haley Barton in her book “Invitation to Solitude and Silence” says: “The invitation to solitude and silence is an invitation to enter more deeply into the intimacy of relationship with the One who waits just outside the noise and busyness of our lives. It is an invitation to communication and communion with the One who is always present even when our awareness has been dulled by distraction (or pain).”
“It is an invitation to the adventure of spiritual transformation in the deepest places of our being, an adventure that will result in greater freedom and authenticity and surrender to God than we have yet experienced.”
When we practise this spiritual discipline often enough while still in the wilderness, the journey becomes an adventure with Jesus.
My prayer is that this season of Lent will be a meaningful one for you, especially if your pilgrimage is taking you through the wilderness.
