Hungry in the Desert
These thoughts have been provoked by a sermon I heard recently, which linked in with some reading I have done over the past few years in the areas of church history and spiritual disciplines. As I write I become keenly aware of how impossible it is to perfectly communicate truth. Only Scripture is able to do that. I have errors in my understanding of the material and failures in my ability to communicate what I am thinking. I ask for grace if you read this.
Part One:
Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.
And after fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. And the tempter came and said to him,
"If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread."
But he answered,
"It is written, "'Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.'"
Matthew 4:1-4 (ESV)
Have you ever been in a spiritually dry place? This is the place where it seems like God has disappeared, reading the Word of God tastes like ashes, prayers seem to dissipate into mist and every action is drudgery. Where did the term “spiritual desert” come from anyway?
There is a rich history of deserts appearing among the followers of the faith. Right back in Old Testament times, Moses led the children of Israel for forty years of wandering through the wilderness. That desert experience, the Exodus, shaped the nation forever. They were totally dependent on Yahweh for food and water. Their physical dependence was to inform their spiritual dependence.
Elijah and John the Baptist also had desert experiences. Both were fed directly by God’s provision. Elijah was fed by ravens. John received locusts and wild honey.
And then we come to Jesus. He was no wilderness prophet. He moved from town to town and appeared in Jerusalem several times. He only retreated to the wilderness when his ministry was threatened by too much opposition or popularity. But at the beginning of his ministry, he was sent by the Spirit into the desert. Matthew 4:1 explains the purpose of Jesus’ wilderness adventure – it was to be tempted by the devil.
Jesus was in the wilderness for more than a month, and God did not feed him. No ravens. No locusts. Jesus was fasting. And he was hungry.
One thing I have learnt from my own desert experiences is just how dependent on God I am. When everything is going well, when every praise song lifts my heart, when the Bible seems to radiate with an inner glow, when every conversation seems to be Spirit-led I can get caught up in my own activities and in the music, the Bible and the people I am speaking with. But when they get stripped away, then I am forced to pay attention to the one who provided all those things for me.
I’m also reminded of the phrase, “… who have never known hunger”. It referred to a generation who had been raised during a time of plenty. Food was plentiful and the main squabbles among the children were over what they wanted for breakfast. And I compare that to terrible footage I have seen of desperate people crowding around the UN truck that is distributing sacks of food at a refugee camp. The children fight to survive.
I have used physical fasts to develop self-discipline over my body and to train myself to be aware of God’s presence and providence. I have never done a 40 day fast. I know people who have. They report that the hunger cravings lessen after the first few days, but energy levels also drop. They felt weaker, more vulnerable. I can imagine Jesus feeling this way, and having to confront the devil.
And the devil’s first temptation was to ask Jesus to use his power, as the Son of God, to satisfy himself, to provide for himself.
Jesus was the Son of God. That was his true identity. And he had true power. We are also the children of God. That is our true identity. Jesus is our brother, as well as our Lord. And we have true power. We are capable of creativity. We are capable of producing. We are capable of managing the resources God has made us stewards of. We can feed and clothe ourselves. We were placed by God, not in a wilderness, but in a garden. Even when we were cast out, we did not find ourselves destitute. Our world is resource rich. We complain to each other about the limited nature of fossil fuels – but we have guzzled our way through oceans of black oil and mountains of coal for decades and still have several oceans and mountains to go! And then there is nuclear energy and sustainable energy. We indulge ourselves, using our creativity and our capability to provide for ourselves, masking our true dependence on God.
How do we heighten our awareness of our dependence on God? Natural disasters can do it. Have you noticed that a natural disaster is anything that is too powerful for us to control? A hurricane, a storm, or an earthquake only produces a natural disaster if it is of such a category that it blows apart our manmade control mechanisms. In the wealthy West we have developed systems that cope with all but the worst events. Many developing nations suffer tremendously with even the smallest event.
When an event does occur that overpowers our control mechanisms, we suddenly become aware of the vulnerability of our drinking water, our food and our shelter. But few of us want to have a disaster force us to recognise our vulnerability. Is there another way?
Throughout history spiritual disciplines, such as fasting and solitude, have been used by men and women who want to pursue an awareness of their dependence on God. The desert fathers were influenced by the examples of Jesus and John the Baptist and influential in writing about their experiences in the 3rd and 4th Centuries. For example,
I shall speak first about control of the stomach, the opposite to gluttony, and about how to fast and what and how much to eat. I shall say nothing on my own account, but only what I have received from the Holy Fathers. They have not given us only a single rule for fasting or a single standard and measure for eating, because not everyone has the same strength; age, illness or delicacy of body create differences. But they have given us all a single goal: to avoid over-eating and the filling of our bellies... A clear rule for self-control handed down by the Fathers is this: stop eating while still hungry and do not continue until you are satisfied. St. John Cassian
[http://www.balamandmonastery.org.lb/fathers/indexsayings2.htm]
Discussions of wilderness experiences and dependence on God readily drift towards issues of fasting, solitude and physical needs. But we need to return to where we began: spiritual deserts and spiritual dependence.
In Matthew 4:4 Jesus responded to the devil’s temptation with the oft-quoted statement, “'Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” More urgent than discovering our physical dependence is recovering our spiritual dependence.
Just as we are capable of great creativity and production to satisfy our physical needs, so we are with our spiritual needs. And it is not wrong to do so. God gave us these capabilities to use for his glory. The command in the garden was to work the land. The command with spiritual gifts is to help each other grow to maturity.
And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ…
Ephesians 4:11-13 [ESV]
God designed us to live in community. Each believer within the community is interdependent on each other member exercising their spiritual gifts for the good of the whole. This is the normal and spiritual path for progress.
But I have been involved in community, when the community is functioning properly, and my heart has been right before God, and still felt spiritually dry. As I have reflected on these experiences, the effect of the dryness has been to test whether I am truly following Jesus for his sake, or whether I am pursuing feelings of well-being, pleasure or purpose instead. In other words, will I still choose to follow Jesus when I am feeling discontent? Will I still choose to follow Jesus when I don’t find pleasure in it? When it becomes drudgery? Will I still follow Jesus when I can’t see the purpose in it?
At these times I am reminded of a little motto that I heard many years ago,
“Don’t doubt in the dark what you learnt in the light”
The darkness, the dryness, is a time when we question what we know. Is God still good if I he doesn’t make me feel good? Is God still there if I don’t sense his presence? Is God still in control if I can’t see his point in the events I am living through? What is the condition of my heart?
Things learnt in the desert seem to sit deeper in my mind. Decisions made in the desert seem to nestle deeper in my soul. They are hard lessons, tough decisions. But they shape me. And they are grounded on the bare rock of God. They haven’t been made amidst the noise of the crowd, with the temptation of feel-good, or with the promise of achievement. Reality has been laid bare. I have faced it, and decided to align with it. It reminds me of Deuteronomy 8:2,
“And you shall remember the whole way that the LORD your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep his commandments or not. “
[Deuteronomy 8:2, ESV]
Jesus was confronted by the devil in the desert, stood firm and forever proved his authority over him. His desert experience prepared him for his ministry. In the same way, our desert experiences are to be welcomed as they prepare us for what lies ahead.
These thoughts have been provoked by a sermon I heard recently, which linked in with some reading I have done over the past few years in the areas of church history and spiritual disciplines. As I write I become keenly aware of how impossible it is to perfectly communicate truth. Only Scripture is able to do that. I have errors in my understanding of the material and failures in my ability to communicate what I am thinking. I ask for grace if you read this.
Part One:
Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.
And after fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. And the tempter came and said to him,
"If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread."
But he answered,
"It is written, "'Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.'"
Matthew 4:1-4 (ESV)
Have you ever been in a spiritually dry place? This is the place where it seems like God has disappeared, reading the Word of God tastes like ashes, prayers seem to dissipate into mist and every action is drudgery. Where did the term “spiritual desert” come from anyway?
There is a rich history of deserts appearing among the followers of the faith. Right back in Old Testament times, Moses led the children of Israel for forty years of wandering through the wilderness. That desert experience, the Exodus, shaped the nation forever. They were totally dependent on Yahweh for food and water. Their physical dependence was to inform their spiritual dependence.
Elijah and John the Baptist also had desert experiences. Both were fed directly by God’s provision. Elijah was fed by ravens. John received locusts and wild honey.
And then we come to Jesus. He was no wilderness prophet. He moved from town to town and appeared in Jerusalem several times. He only retreated to the wilderness when his ministry was threatened by too much opposition or popularity. But at the beginning of his ministry, he was sent by the Spirit into the desert. Matthew 4:1 explains the purpose of Jesus’ wilderness adventure – it was to be tempted by the devil.
Jesus was in the wilderness for more than a month, and God did not feed him. No ravens. No locusts. Jesus was fasting. And he was hungry.
One thing I have learnt from my own desert experiences is just how dependent on God I am. When everything is going well, when every praise song lifts my heart, when the Bible seems to radiate with an inner glow, when every conversation seems to be Spirit-led I can get caught up in my own activities and in the music, the Bible and the people I am speaking with. But when they get stripped away, then I am forced to pay attention to the one who provided all those things for me.
I’m also reminded of the phrase, “… who have never known hunger”. It referred to a generation who had been raised during a time of plenty. Food was plentiful and the main squabbles among the children were over what they wanted for breakfast. And I compare that to terrible footage I have seen of desperate people crowding around the UN truck that is distributing sacks of food at a refugee camp. The children fight to survive.
I have used physical fasts to develop self-discipline over my body and to train myself to be aware of God’s presence and providence. I have never done a 40 day fast. I know people who have. They report that the hunger cravings lessen after the first few days, but energy levels also drop. They felt weaker, more vulnerable. I can imagine Jesus feeling this way, and having to confront the devil.
And the devil’s first temptation was to ask Jesus to use his power, as the Son of God, to satisfy himself, to provide for himself.
Jesus was the Son of God. That was his true identity. And he had true power. We are also the children of God. That is our true identity. Jesus is our brother, as well as our Lord. And we have true power. We are capable of creativity. We are capable of producing. We are capable of managing the resources God has made us stewards of. We can feed and clothe ourselves. We were placed by God, not in a wilderness, but in a garden. Even when we were cast out, we did not find ourselves destitute. Our world is resource rich. We complain to each other about the limited nature of fossil fuels – but we have guzzled our way through oceans of black oil and mountains of coal for decades and still have several oceans and mountains to go! And then there is nuclear energy and sustainable energy. We indulge ourselves, using our creativity and our capability to provide for ourselves, masking our true dependence on God.
How do we heighten our awareness of our dependence on God? Natural disasters can do it. Have you noticed that a natural disaster is anything that is too powerful for us to control? A hurricane, a storm, or an earthquake only produces a natural disaster if it is of such a category that it blows apart our manmade control mechanisms. In the wealthy West we have developed systems that cope with all but the worst events. Many developing nations suffer tremendously with even the smallest event.
When an event does occur that overpowers our control mechanisms, we suddenly become aware of the vulnerability of our drinking water, our food and our shelter. But few of us want to have a disaster force us to recognise our vulnerability. Is there another way?
Throughout history spiritual disciplines, such as fasting and solitude, have been used by men and women who want to pursue an awareness of their dependence on God. The desert fathers were influenced by the examples of Jesus and John the Baptist and influential in writing about their experiences in the 3rd and 4th Centuries. For example,
I shall speak first about control of the stomach, the opposite to gluttony, and about how to fast and what and how much to eat. I shall say nothing on my own account, but only what I have received from the Holy Fathers. They have not given us only a single rule for fasting or a single standard and measure for eating, because not everyone has the same strength; age, illness or delicacy of body create differences. But they have given us all a single goal: to avoid over-eating and the filling of our bellies... A clear rule for self-control handed down by the Fathers is this: stop eating while still hungry and do not continue until you are satisfied. St. John Cassian
[http://www.balamandmonastery.org.lb/fathers/indexsayings2.htm]
Discussions of wilderness experiences and dependence on God readily drift towards issues of fasting, solitude and physical needs. But we need to return to where we began: spiritual deserts and spiritual dependence.
In Matthew 4:4 Jesus responded to the devil’s temptation with the oft-quoted statement, “'Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” More urgent than discovering our physical dependence is recovering our spiritual dependence.
Just as we are capable of great creativity and production to satisfy our physical needs, so we are with our spiritual needs. And it is not wrong to do so. God gave us these capabilities to use for his glory. The command in the garden was to work the land. The command with spiritual gifts is to help each other grow to maturity.
And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ…
Ephesians 4:11-13 [ESV]
God designed us to live in community. Each believer within the community is interdependent on each other member exercising their spiritual gifts for the good of the whole. This is the normal and spiritual path for progress.
But I have been involved in community, when the community is functioning properly, and my heart has been right before God, and still felt spiritually dry. As I have reflected on these experiences, the effect of the dryness has been to test whether I am truly following Jesus for his sake, or whether I am pursuing feelings of well-being, pleasure or purpose instead. In other words, will I still choose to follow Jesus when I am feeling discontent? Will I still choose to follow Jesus when I don’t find pleasure in it? When it becomes drudgery? Will I still follow Jesus when I can’t see the purpose in it?
At these times I am reminded of a little motto that I heard many years ago,
“Don’t doubt in the dark what you learnt in the light”
The darkness, the dryness, is a time when we question what we know. Is God still good if I he doesn’t make me feel good? Is God still there if I don’t sense his presence? Is God still in control if I can’t see his point in the events I am living through? What is the condition of my heart?
Things learnt in the desert seem to sit deeper in my mind. Decisions made in the desert seem to nestle deeper in my soul. They are hard lessons, tough decisions. But they shape me. And they are grounded on the bare rock of God. They haven’t been made amidst the noise of the crowd, with the temptation of feel-good, or with the promise of achievement. Reality has been laid bare. I have faced it, and decided to align with it. It reminds me of Deuteronomy 8:2,
“And you shall remember the whole way that the LORD your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep his commandments or not. “
[Deuteronomy 8:2, ESV]
Jesus was confronted by the devil in the desert, stood firm and forever proved his authority over him. His desert experience prepared him for his ministry. In the same way, our desert experiences are to be welcomed as they prepare us for what lies ahead.
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