The Word
““Then the Spirit led Jesus up into the wilderness so that the devil might tempt him. After Jesus had fasted for forty days and forty nights, he was starving. The tempter came to him and said, ‘Since you are God’s son, command these stones to become bread.’ Jesus replied, ‘It’s written, People don’t live only by bread but by every word spoken by God…’””
The Wondering
The invitation into the wilderness of Lent sparks anticipation and, perhaps, a pang of dread, in us. Where will the Holy Spirit lead us in these coming days? Up rocky trails that confound us with our own transgressions – and break our hearts over the sufferings of brothers and sisters in a world of war? Might the Comforter take us, too, along the psalmist’s paths of righteousness that promise still waters, green pastures?
Jesus, after his baptism, was led up into the wilderness by the Spirit – as if by a familiar Guide who showed him the way to an appointed place of solitude and encounter. Jesus, already one with the Spirit, knew where to go and went willingly, without hesitation, and once there, was shown what to do.
For you and for me, this is how the Spirit often works: by showing up in the guise of another creature—a dove, a whale, a friend—and by summoning, directing nudging, driving, revealing, and along the way, comforting and sustaining us. The Spirit meets each of us in our particular season of life and in our particular needs, and helps us to learn, as the poet Roethke says, by going where we have to go.*
Where do you see the Spirit showing up on this first Sunday of Lent? Will you follow?
*adapted from Marilyn McEntyre in Where the Eye Alights: Phrases for the Forty Days of Lent
The Wisdom
“The Waking” by Theodore Roethke
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.
Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.
This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.
from Collected Poems of Theodore Roethke.
Reproduced for educational purposes only.