At some point, we’ve all wanted to escape from life’s difficulties. And for many people, both in ancient times and today, living in the wilderness away from the craziness of towns and cities has a strong appeal. An empty desert might seem like a good place to avoid the storms of life. St. Anthony of the Desert, St. Macarius of Egypt, and all the Desert Fathers certainly saw it that way.
They understood that in deserted places, there are fewer people, and thus fewer temptations to puff oneself up pridefully in front of others. And that there’s no need to be anxious about money if you’re out in the wilderness and can’t spend it on anything. They knew that the flashy entertainments of city life also have a much harder time distracting someone who has chosen isolation in the desert.
In the same way, making our interior life into a desert refuge by eliminating all the flashy entertainments and distractions and anxieties of a turbulent society might seem like a good way to escape from the storms wracking our interior lives. For example, closing social media accounts or ending our reliance on the 24-hour news cycle or cancelling that subscription to our favorite streaming service may seem like a good start.
And I do recommend prudently eliminating distractions. I can attest that it’s been a great thing for my spiritual growth over the years, especially during Lent. It can reduce anxiety and induce more tranquility. Most importantly, it can reorient us toward life with God.
In the interior desert there can be great tranquility if we cultivate it by turning away from distractions and focusing on God. But the desert is not a storm-free place. The storms are perhaps fewer and different, but they are just as inevitable and very dangerous.
For example, the desert dust storm is brutal. Small, insignificant particles come so quickly that they can break the skin, damage the eyes, or even asphyxiate someone.
So too in the spiritual life the small distractions can lead to spiritual death. The interior storms can whip up so many petty concerns that we feel like we’re dying a death of a thousand cuts. Our interior life, like a delicate flower surrounded by hardy little weeds, can seem like it’s being gradually choked by all of these worries. It can be difficult to see, with our vision clouded by the dust storms of the interior desert, that we are in fact moving in the right direction—toward God.
But just as God drew Joseph and Mary into the desert toward Egypt in order to save their lives and bring them back to their earthly homeland in Nazareth, so too God draws us into the interior desert to save our souls and bring us to our heavenly homeland.
Storms will continue to arise. We know that Christ can calm these storms of the interior desert, just as he calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee for the Apostles.
We also know that not all storms need to be calmed; many of them God will help us to weather cheerfully, knowing that we are safe in the palm of his hand. Our Lord will continue to be with us in the storms, helping us to learn to trust in the love and mercy he lavishes upon us so generously.
And when the dust has finally settled in the interior desert, may we see clearly the God who saves us in the Kingdom of Heaven. May we see our Lord who died for us and rose again so that we might be raised up to live with God above the storms of this earthly life.
✠
Photo by Artin Bakhan on Unsplash
