During Lent, WILDERNESS—the Place word that invokes the spiritual cleansing in isolation epitomized by the Desert Fathers and Mothers—spotlights Jesus’ desert retreat to prepare for his life mission. We revisit that ordeal yearly during Lent to renew/reset our own lives.

Our wilderness time matters every year. Lent 2022, however, is a doozy. Amidst ongoing crises we have Russia’s violation of Ukraine, the resulting blood of Ukrainian innocents and defenders, the trauma of its refugees, and possible global attack with outlawed weapons, a once-dismissed horror.

To prepare well using this year’s wilderness time, I return to biblical accounts of Jesus’ experience, which appears in all Gospels but St. John’s. I’ll then offer what they suggest for Now. 

The Gospels’ version: Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness after John the Baptist baptized him. Readied by fasting, he faced Satan’s temptations with food, safety, and dominion over earthly kingdoms. When Jesus refused, Satan retreated and, restored, Jesus began his ministry.

The Bible suggests the experience was a divinely sanctioned test that Jesus likely expected: The Holy Spirit who descended at his baptism led him into the wilderness; angels helped him recover.

Scripture’s Jesus left civilization but was never secluded, unlike Riviere’s vision above. When not with Satan or angels, Jesus was among “wild beasts” which, for the painter of this 16th-c.  version, were as solicitous as the angels.

Tested for loyalty to his divine father, the God-man Jesus invoked humankind’s guidebook, Scripture, as his defense. Satan, for example, challenged his identity: IF he was the Son of God he should command that stone be turned into bread. Jesus refused by arguing: “It is written, That man shall not live by bread alone but by every word of God” (Luke 4:4; echoing Deut. 8:3). Jesus unwaveringly chose God’s authority AND affirmed Scripture as lived principles even when tempted, an example that the Gospels hammered home for us. It worked. How often do we hear or say “we don’t live by bread alone?”

Jesus thus earned credibility as a teacher who adhered to the Word under duress and taught from experience. His trials likely taught him compassion for those he encountered subsequently: humans who faced temptation regularly or sought reorientation. Jesus thus began his world-changing ministry as Henri Nouwen’s Wounded Healer, closer to us in experience and with tested strength and heart.

This year’s wilderness season is an especially vital time for compassion for others. Embattled and aware, we can extend support in the shared upheaval.

It’s also a time to examine moral compasses potentially scrambled by this past year. How did our guidelines fare? Did we instead reset our course? Where do we fit in our troubled world?

Finally, where/what is this year’s wilderness? Maybe it’s where/what enables reflection, whether an alternative to the familiar, a comfort or a challenge. Maybe we too have divine support or aren’t alone throughout.

My wilderness retreat is never solitary. I leave my everyday zone (my desk) to somewhere deep inside, teeming with inquisitive presences, or to a stream or tidal marsh alive with nature’s community. Hard work takes place with company. This year, with help, I seek more strength and heart.

No part of the future, of this world, is untouched by Now. To help ourselves and others shape beyond, time in the wilderness this year matters.

— Suzanne Glover Lindsay, St. Stephen’s historian and curator