In the Wilderness

In some exegetical circles, much has been made of the fact that Luke transforms Isaiah's prophecy of "a voice crying out: in the desert prepare the way of the Lord'" into "a voice crying out in the desert: prepare the way of the Lord."  I think John the Baptist could be seen fulfilling each of these roles (he was, after all, in the desert preaching to people in the desert), but I do think Isaiah's version captures something special.  

Deserts are dry, barren places.  Wildernesses are, by definition, wild and chaotic.  The entire story of the Old Testament is about God bringing life to the barren, order to chaos.  

Our world needs prophets.  Our world is in many ways a spiritual desert: dry, barren, full of people so desperate and greedy and hungry and thirsty that they grasp at any kind of nectar dripping from any poisoned fruit.  Our world is a wilderness: in their confusion and twisted attempts at self-justification which lead only to self-delusion, people are lost and do not know where to turn.  We need prophets with the courage of John the Baptist to go into this desert, into this wilderness, and proclaim: "Prepare the way of the Lord!"

Yet in order to become like John the Baptist, we need to recognize the barrenness and chaos of our own hearts.  My soul: a barren place, where I die many deaths of pride and selfishness.  My heart: a wilderness, full of darkness and the brambles of my own vices and sins that block my path.  I need to prepare the way of the Lord into my own heart - clear a way to Him, make straight His paths.  

But how do I do this?  Isaiah says that the valleys must be raised and the mountains made level.  But Isaiah also says that God alone is the one who can do this: "I will make all my mountains a road," says the Lord (49:11), "I will go before you and level the mountains" (45:2).  God alone can clear a path for Himself so that He can come into my heart.  The Psalms tell us that God alone can show us the path to Him (25:4).  We must entrust our journey to Him (37:5). 

Only when we trust the Lord can He act on our behalf.  Only when we wholeheartedly and fully give over our path to Him can He truly raise the valleys and level the mountains, water the desert and clear the wilderness.  It is this faith - this total trust - that God asks from us.  Don't hold anything back!  Say to God: "Take me wherever You will!"  This is how to prepare our hearts for the coming of the Lord.

Yet how often do we cling to our own expectations of how our lives ought to go!  Do we think Mary planned to be an unwed mother at sixteen?  Did she plan to watch her only Son die before her very eyes?  Did Joseph plan to marry a woman who was pregnant with a child that was not his?  Scripture is full of people whose expectations and hopes and dreams for a quiet, peaceful, self-centered life were absolutely shattered by God's call.  Perhaps they were busy doing perfectly ordinary, perfectly good things.  It is not a sin to be a fisherman, but it is a sin to cling to being a fisherman when God calls you to something greater.  To cling to these expectations is to say no to God.  It is to say: I prefer the chaos and darkness of my own will to the clean bright light of Yours.  It is to be like the servant who clung greedily to the one talent he was entrusted with.  This is not life - this is death!  So the servant has his talent snatched from him and he is cast aside.

The unexpected call of God encounters us every day.   In traffic jams and thwarted dinner plans.  In unplanned pregnancies.  In the deaths of our loved ones.  In chance encounters with strangers that change our lives.  In phone calls from family and friends asking for help.  In the faces of the homeless and poor on our city benches and street corners.  In the people who annoy us and challenge our charity and kindness.  Jesus told Peter to be prepared: one day, he would be led where he did not want to go.  And God is constantly calling each of us to go where we do not want to go!  Every time our plans are disappointed, it is up to us to find God there: calling us out of our complacency, asking us to practice sacrificing our will, forcing us to recognize that our time is not ours, and ultimately neither are our lives.  Saying "yes" to these little moments of self-sacrifice prepares us to see the bigger ways in which God calls us to say "yes" - the "yes" that can give shape and meaning to our lives.  The "yes" that can make straight the path of the Lord in the wilderness of our souls - and our world.