Wilderness

Exodus 3:1; Ezekiel 34:25; Genesis 4:16

The Wilderness is a recurring theme throughout scripture, but it never appears in quite the same way when it comes. Sometimes the wilderness is a euphemism for being absolutely lost (like Cain), sometimes it is a place where one becomes freed from all else to be with God (like Moses), and sometimes it is a refuge (as Ezekiel sees). However, in whatever manifestation wilderness appears, it is a tool for righteousness, the manner and way in which we walk with God.

Nearly every major character in scripture spends time in the wilderness, from Abraham to Moses, from Jacob to David, from Elijah to the Baptist, from Jesus to the Apostles—they all sojourn in the wilderness. As they do so, they come to understand themselves, the God whom they serve, and the vocation laid before them. 

Even Cain.

The First Family is meant to be paradigmatic. The J theologian (responsible for the stories in the opening books of the Bible—the folktales, etc.) uses Adam, Even, and their descendants as a means to explain some essential tenets about who and what human beings are. They are meant to be a metaphor, and as with all metaphors, carry weight and meaning that is left to the hearer to discern. 

Cain serves to explain the human propensity for violence. Cain is the first murderer whose crime is heightened by it being a fratricide. He acts in passion. He acts in raging envy. He also acts in premeditated evil—he has time to think through what he is doing, to weigh its consequences, and still act despite what his ruminations tell him. He is a slave to self, unable to see beyond his own hurt, his own self-justification, and his own anger to see the bigger picture of all that is happening, even as God explains it to him. For J, that explains everything we need to know about ourselves (and the subsequent messiness of human society). 

But J is not done yet—what does God do with this evil person? why?

God, as J understands God, simply cements in place God’s great statement to Hosea—I am God and not a human being. Where we might continue the cycle of violence by killing the murderer, God preserves him. God marks Cain so no one will take vengeance on him or simply eliminate a violent presence from their midst. Then God sends Cain into the wilderness (Nod). The wilderness will do what no execution can achieve—Cain will live to learn to exist with himself and, hopefully, come to understand the grace of God in such a way as to grow beyond what he is into what God intends (Cain is and always will be a unique act of God’s creative will). Cain will live with the burden of being what he is, forever remembering the loss of Abel, but with the hope of transforming and transcending that act, reclaiming his existence in God’s presence, perhaps even becoming a peacemaker (jump ahead several thousand years to St. Paul). 

The wilderness becomes the crucible for redemption.

Which becomes a neat and tidy way into understanding the central dynamic of the Exodus narrative. The wilderness is almost the main character throughout the book of Exodus. It begins with the personal sojourn of God’s appointed redeemer, Moses, as he comes to understand his vocation. Then it becomes the refining mechanism for the entire people of Israel as they grow into inhabiting the Kingdom of God. 

Moses winds up in the wilderness for the same reason as Cain—he killed somebody. He flees into the wilderness to escape his fate, living with Jethro. But he still has deeper to go—he follows the sheep into the wilderness of Horeb, and there he finds God. The remarkable thing in Moses’ personal journey is the gradual shedding of all human community and connection. Here is the prototype for the Desert Fathers of the 4th Century. He has to abandon all that is the world in order to prepare himself for being with God. Everything must go (like an existential fire sale). Once he is in a place of having lost everything that defined him up to that point, he meets God who has always been present, but hidden by all the trappings and veils of Moses’ life. 

This experience becomes an archetype for the spiritual journey. To find God, we have to silence all the noise of the world, let go of all relationships, responsibilities, and distractions to fall still enough to perceive God in our breathing, God’s breath always in and through us—i.e., the presence of God eternally with us. We can perhaps finally understand some of the more horrible verses in the Gospel—whoever does not hate mother, father, brother, or sister cannot be a part of my kingdom. Jesus was not seeking to be cruel, but rather revealing the seriousness with which God needs to be at the absolute core of our existence if God’s gracious presence is to be effectual for our life within the world. Moses finally finds this presence at Horeb; we can find it as we enter the wilderness of solitude, moving beyond its oppressive vacancy to its miraculous fullness as the Kingdom of God.

Which enables us to hear the oracle that claimed Ezekiel in this prophetic moment. The wilderness becomes the Peaceable Kingdom, the place where the Seventh Day can be lived fully and completely. 

We need to know the back story to fully appreciate the power of Ezekiel’s vision. Ezekiel was a Jerusalem prophet just before the the cataclysmic war of attrition launched by the Babylonians as their empire ate the surrounding nations, subsuming them into the empire. Being a prophet, Ezekiel reads the news of the world through a theological lens—God is at work in these events, and to find grace, hope, and meaning, we have to see how God is present. The problem for Israel is terrible leadership. The king—God’s anointed representative meant to lead in justice and righteousness, supported by the Temple—has failed in his vocation. The people have no idea of God, God’s call, or God’s purpose for them—they are lost sheep abandoned on the hillsides, entering a dangerous wilderness where they will be easy prey. God will intervene. Through the Babylonians, God will sweep away the horrible shepherds in place, replacing them with a Good Shepherd (yes, Jesus knew this parable as he claimed the title in John’s Gospel). God will fully enter the wilderness with the people, transcending and transforming the wilderness itself. No longer will it be a place of judgment (Cain), nor a place of refinement (Moses)—it will be home. Here will be the imagined kingdom of the Seventh Day with all creation in Sabbath rest with God. All the predators will be gone or changed. All will be peace. 

And this vision becomes our hope. As we pass through our own wildernesses, we are moving into this final place of redemption. But to to fully realize this promise, we have to fully realize the presence of God with us. We cannot shy away from our wilderness moments, but rather see them as a process to pass through to find God with us. We may well experience Cain’s wilderness. We will more than likely know Moses’ wilderness. But as we endure them, use them for our good, we can experience the wilderness of Ezekiel. 

Breathe—God is present in each breath—the kingdom is here, the kingdom is now.