The Catechism tells us, “By the solemn forty days of Lent the Church unites herself each year to the mystery of Jesus in the desert” (CCC 540). This year I already experienced time in the wilderness, not only in the spiritual sense, but in a tangible way as well. As a child, I used to think that the desert only referred to geographic areas with intense heat and little rainfall. However, reflecting on the information I learned from high school geography class and confirmed by Dictionary.com, a desert technically speaking is defined as: “any area in which few forms of life can exist because of lack of water, permanent frost, or absence of soil.” Winter 2019 certainly calls into question about whether the U.S. Midwest could be argued to be categorized as a deserted place!
Along with experiencing a physical harshness of climate and barrenness of life during the wintertime, I undergo periods of dryness or barrenness in my spiritual life. Spiritual aridity is a topic that I relate to and recently started to learn about. Saint including, but not limited to, Teresa of Calcutta, Sister Maria Faustina, Teresa of Avila, and John of the Cross guided me toward a more mature spirituality and to realize that dryness in prayer is not necessary an indictment on a person. Instead, souls undergo periods of purgation to deepen one’s relationship with God.
St. John of the Cross most recently helped me to avoid wandering and orient me toward a mindset that marvels at the Providence of God despite sojourning in the desert of life. Below I wish to share three specific ways Christians will be able to avoid wandering and to start wondering in the desert of life.
1. Omnipotent Oases
The great founding father, Benjamin Franklin, once said, “When the well’s dry, we know the worth of water.” When traveling in the desert, this insight goes without saying. Quenching of thirst quickly becomes of utmost importance.
In a desert, certain fertile areas exist that surround a water source — oases. Venturing to an oasis is akin to the 1849 gold rush as water is an invaluable resource in a barren land. We are reminded of Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well in John 4. He promises her the possibility of living water. While it is not speaking of physical water, because humanity still needs that to survive, Christ is referring to the sacraments as being sources of God’s graces.
These omnipotent oases never dry up. We need only be willing to travel to the wellsprings to receive God’s grace. According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraph 1210,
Christ instituted the sacraments of the new law. There are seven: Baptism, Confirmation (or Chrismation), the Eucharist, Penance, the Anointing of the Sick, Holy Orders and Matrimony. The seven sacraments touch all the stages and all the important moments of Christian life: they give birth and increase, healing and mission to the Christian’s life of faith. There is thus a certain resemblance between the stages of natural life and the stages of the spiritual life.
I wish to share an example of a recent encounter at a well of God’s grace — the Sacrament of Confession. At the conclusion of a long and particular tough week, both physically and spiritually, I realized I needed to do something about my anger issues and lack of patience at home. Traveling to a nearby local Catholic Church, I confessed my sins to the priest. Standing in Personi Christi [standing in the Person of Christ], the priest had the authority to forgive my sins through the sacrament of Holy Orders. In the New Testament, Jesus conferred this power to his Apostles — the first Catholic priest — in John 20:22-23. After receiving the healing graces from this sacrament, I returned home with a greater defense and ability to encounter the temptation of anger and impatience head-on.
2. Follow the Caravan
A second tip that I discovered that helped me withstand the sandstorms and desolation of life is to unite myself with others in community to not only discuss my struggles but to celebrate the joys of life. Sojourning with others assists me in the journey of life. It is not a coincidence that the source and summit of the Christian life involves communal worship in the sacrament of the Eucharist within the Mass. The Church reminds us in CCC 1369, “The whole Church is united with the offering and intercession of Christ.”
Along with weekly attendance of the Mass, smaller forms of community sustain me during periods of desert-like desolation in my spiritual life. A friend of mine actually reached out to me unsolicited to see if I needed assistance. “I know that you are going through a tough time now Matt, I was wondering if you wanted to get together for dinner or a drink sometime. Know that I am hear for you if you need to talk about things.” This was a text message that I received a few days ago. Truly, the Holy Spirit worked in my friend’s heart to reach out to me to seek an opportunity to console me.
3. Marian Moonlight in the Dark Night
The third means I learned that helped me learn to marvel at God’s majesty instead of aimlessly wandering in the desert of life is turn more to the Mother of God for support and comfort. Throughout the history of the Catholic Church, the moon has be a symbol associated with Mary. Oftentimes she is a guide to pilgrims in this earthly existence during a dark night of the soul. Venerable Fulton Sheen spoke of this,
“God, who made the sun, also made the moon. The moon does not take away from the brilliance of the sun. All its light is reflected from the sun … The Blessed Mother reflects her Divine Son; without Him, she is nothing. With Him, she is the Mother of men.”
Mary reflects or shines the light of Christ during the darkest of nights. During particularly frustrating nights when my children struggle with going to sleep–I petition the Blessed Virgin for assistance in my time of need. Recently, I started to pray a decade of the rosary when rocking my children to sleep. Looking to Mary for help in no way circumvents the need for God. I still worship Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, however, the humanity of Mary appeals to me and her maternal mediation always works on our behalf to bring our prayers to God.
Let’s close with a scene from the J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Fellowship of the Rings. During a particularly desolate part of the journey to destroy the ring (which represents sin and corruption) the hobbit-companion to Frodo (the ring-bearer) is Samwise ‘Sam’ Gamgee. He confidently told Frod, “I made a promise, Mr Frodo. A promise. ‘Don’t you leave him Samwise Gamgee.’ And I don’t mean to. I don’t mean to.”
Do we possess similar resolve when times get tough? If we are married, do we remember our marital commitment to fidelity in the good times and bad? Do we have the courage and empathy to reach out to friends in need? Let us reflect on the promise of Jesus in Matthew 28:20, “And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.”
