What if Jesus didn’t enter the desert alone? What if he brought a friend? How does that detail change the story?
We’re so comfortable with the image of the desert. We hear of Jesus’ forty days therein and quickly overlay our own Lenten walk with sand and heat and sun.
Our fasting reflects Jesus’ own hunger in that desert—“One does not live on bread alone.” Our prayer is that of a hermit, a recluse, a wanderer. We stumble onward, dodging the dark spirits, awaiting our own angelic rescue.
But if Jesus brings a friend—well, what then? Those desert days are no longer a solitary spiritual quest. And Jesus’ attention turns to those most in need.
Jesus does not wish for us to starve—“There is no need for them to go away; give them some food…”
Jesus does not wish for us to muddle on alone—“Where two or three are gathered…”
Jesus does not wish our wandering to be without direction—“It is not the will of your heavenly Father that one of these little ones be lost.”
I wonder: Are we too eager to find solitude in the desert? Do we wave our hands at the sand and heat and sun and say, “See? Prayer, fasting & almsgiving! Suffering and so on. Christlike!”
Perhaps the false spirit draws us into this desert retreat to distract us from the needs of the moment.
In fact, we don’t need to enter the desert. The desert is all around us. And we are not here alone. This journey is not one undertaken without companions. Lent is not just about me.
We necessarily journey with Jesus in the desert. Jesus is right there in the latest headlines: the homeless and the unemployed, the afraid and the marginalized, the scapegoat and the wounded, the immigrant and the refugee, the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the stranger.
We walk with all of these, our companions, members of Jesus’ own body—the Body of Christ, the People of God—as we wade through the shifting dunes of Lent. And Jesus walks with us. Jesus desires that we emerge—all of us—in the Promised Land. But we only go to God together.
When Jesus turns to us, when he turns to me, what does he say? There is only one valid option, I think, I hope:
“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me. …Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.”
Speaking of Lent:
Did you know CRS Rice Bowl turns 50 this year? This is a great year to support this life-saving program. Find out why on the latest episodes of our “AMDG: A Jesuit Podcast” where Mike Laskey talks with CRS’ Bill O’Keefe. Listen here. And check out the IG post below where Pope Francis himself sends a message to CRS Rice Bowl! Learn more here.
Another thoughtful reflection, Eric. This one certainly gave me pause. I'll have to read over it a few more times and pray with it. Thank you.