In the Wilderness

Nearly four weeks of listening to Hindi and I think I am finally figuring out a tiny bit. Not only do I recognize “Yeshua” as Jesus, but I can pick out a word here and there and guess what the prayer or the conversation is about.
For example, in chapel today the congregation was invited to mention requests to add to the list given by the worship leader. I stood to ask prayer for friend Debbie in Virginia who is very ill and whose doctor has disappeared due perhaps to legal difficulties. As sister Hemlata took the cordless mic to offer the prayer, I could hear when she said “sister Debbie” and knew that my request was presented before God. It was no trick—she said “sister Debbie” even though she was praying in Hindi.
Getting home after chapel, I went up to the upper room to make my bed. Yes—even I have some admittedly minimal standards. Egad! An inch of water on the marble tile floor and the sound of H2O going down a drain. But obviously not all going down the drain. Throw rug saturated, bedroom filling up. Since a plastic supply pipe had burst downstairs just the other day I knew where to look. Sure enough. A hose busted open and hot water flooding. I turned the shutoff, found a broom and started sweeping out onto the balcony.
Soon I heard Uncle George downstairs and shouted to call the plumber guy. Meanwhile I shut off all the other lines in two other bathrooms before going downstairs. Here’s a maintenance guy now—plunger in hand. Uncle is talking to him about “pipe-kay” and “replace-kay” and “leak-kay.” Bingo! My Hindi just went from 5 words to at least 50. Never mind Rosetta Stone. Just take a word that is used for technology or education and add “kay.” I can now point to the ed building and say “class-kay” and the cook will know I can’t stop for lunch now because I have class. “Exam-kay” is the next word I’ll try out. That should strike fear into all hearts. It’s my way of combating that nasty put-down that goes like this.
“What do you call a person who can speak three languages?” Trilingual. “Two languages?” Bilingual. “One language?” American!
Now get set for a terrific segue.
In life our supply pipes can burst and leave us floundering in a flood or drained dry in a desert.
That’s what our chapel senior preached on today. She took her text from Luke 4—the wilderness experience of Jesus.
I don’t know how this well-worn text can keep bearing fruit. How many sermons have we heard on the temptation? How many have I preached? Quite a few.
She reminds us that if we follow Jesus we will have the wilderness experience. We will be in the desert and tested to the max. After all, our baptismal commitment will be tried just as Jesus’ was. There’s no other way to refine and deepen our faith in God.
Not by chance, it is the Holy Spirit who brings us into the wilderness, knowing full well that our Accuser will meet us there. We will suffer weakness due to hunger and thirst. Without testing our faith is shallow. James and the other apostles say the same thing many times. “Count it all joy when you come under trials.” Are you kidding? Does that make sense? No—unless you have decided to follow Jesus, expecting that the Holy Spirit is the One who leads you into all these unpleasant situations. Why is it so hard for me to learn this? Is it God’s will for you to be going through the wringer? Answer: absolutely yes. God has ordained it.
“Turn these stones God has thrown at you to something that will benefit you.” The Accuser of the brethren (and sistren) points at all these stones God puts in the path. It’s like hiking Mount Lafayette last spring. My old limbs were getting tired yet ahead of me were more ledges and piles of stones I had to negotiate. Ever feel like quitting? Sitting down in tears saying it’s too hard—I can’t go on? That’s life in this world for the Christian.
So Satan suggests we turn those stones into something better. You’re hungry for change. Take charge. You can avoid these cold stones that block your way. You can think of a way. Maybe it’s a relationship that won’t yield to your will. Maybe it’s opposition or some temptation you cannot overcome. It could be a lot of things that God has allowed into your life that is just too much. But Jesus says, “Let those stones remain stones. I’ll provide in God’s way for you. Don’t give up.”
Satan suggests that the world God once controlled is now his. “I’ll give to you, if….” Wouldn’t it be easier to accept that and go along to get along? Just bow to me and I’ll give you your share of the world’s rich treasure of power and pleasure. Just do it my way and you can do it your way. So much easier.
And the Accuser is not totally lying, either. It is easier. The way of the cross means suffering and loss of the most painful kind. But Jesus knows Satan is tempting us with a short-term relief that will be paid for in spades in the end. No—we’ll worship God though we are going through hell. Better to go through hell now than to be in hell forever.
Lastly Satan whispers for us to put God to the test. Put out a fleece. Do something drastic to see if God really cares about you. He’s got angels at his command. What good are angels if you don’t call for them? Force God’s hand. This is really a call for us to manipulate God. Make him show up for us when we think the time is right. Doesn’t work that way, says Jesus. The heroes of faith of old suffered long and hard but would not cave in. Hebrews 11 recounts their wilderness experience.
So Jesus won the victory in the desert place and went on to live an easy life. “Victory in Jesus!” Wrong!
Here’s the challenge that came to me.
Try to think of one period in the life of Jesus when things got better for him.
I come up blank. His holy life was wholly in one direction: bad to worse. No exception. Hated in his hometown. Pestered by people more interested in health and wealth through his miracles than in his call to repentance. (Make no mistake, we would have gotten tired of this Galilean preacher whose mantra was repent, repent, repent.) Misunderstood by his disciples, maligned by his colleagues. Even the triumphal entry was tinged with sadness because Jesus knew it was just euphoria of a fickle crowd looking for a Son of David who could knock off the Roman Goliath for them. Holy Week was one holy horror after another for Jesus.
And Satan keeps whispering, “Don’t you deserve better than this?” Come over to my side. Go get that divorce. Go for the money and ease. Give in to the lusts every person has—it’s just being human. The Accuser often uses modern counseling as a tool to pry us away. You have your needs. You deserve more. Take it into your hands—God will understand your disobedience. He’s forgiving, isn’t he? What’s one more going to hurt, when it can give you so much relief?”
I get to the bottom line. Am I going to follow Christ into and through this wilderness or am I going to climb out of this canyon where I am so thirsty and hungry and in pain and just relax in the Devil’s Playground?
The speaker asks us to close our eyes and think on all this. I decide I am going for the gold, with the strength God offers. I am going to follow him right down the trail of pain and deprivation and suffering and even death. He told me upfront it was going to be like this. It’s the only way there is—straight through the wilderness. Embracing the pain as he did. That’s what it means to take up the cross, to deny myself. The other way is to seek to save my own life. The result is to lose it.
I’m asking God to sustain me in the desert experience, trusting in what he deems best.