“[As] he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.” Mark 1:10-13
Wait. Something is wrong. This is an Easter message and that is clearly not an Easter Gospel. Quite the contrary. Mark 1:10-13 is part of the reading that was assigned for the First Sunday in Lent. It is the story that started us off on our wilderness journey through Lent to Good Friday, into the silence of the tomb on Holy Saturday before we came to greet with joy this Easter Day.
We’ve come a long way since Mark 1:10-13. The wilderness of Lent is behind us. So why revisit it? It is time now for Easter, time to celebrate and move on. Alleluia!
Yes, but…
Sometimes it is important to remember how the story begins to appreciate better how the story ends. Or, if not ends, how the story invites us to become characters, active participants, in the continuing tale.
At Jesus’ baptism in the river Jordan, the heavens were torn apart (top to bottom), the Spirit descended, and Jesus stepped out into the wilderness to face the temptations of Satan and, one imagines, all the challenges and sufferings that wilderness has to offer. In those sufferings and challenges, Satan sought to separate Jesus from God. Satan was hoping to keep the wilderness to himself, a godforsaken place, where nothing has meaning, importance, or life beyond his selfish desire.
We know how the story goes, right? Jesus would not be tempted. He beat the devil and sent him packing. But what about the wilderness? What about Satan’s hope for a godforsaken world? Luke’s gospel story of Jesus’ temptations ends with the rather ominous words: “[The] devil left him for an opportune time.”
An opportune time… So the devil and his godforsaken wilderness may yet have its day–a day perhaps like Good Friday.
On the cross, Jesus suffers and dies–his arms stretched out in love. Notice, however, that while the Gospels are not entirely consistent in the details, the sweep of the story in all cases contains imagery and words that echo Jesus’ baptism: the temple curtain is torn apart top to bottom and Jesus yields His spirit.
What marked Jesus’ baptism is present at his death: the tearing of open of heaven, of the Temple veil, of the separation between God and humankind; present also the flow of the Spirit unhindered by cloud or curtain; flowing freely between heaven and earth, God and human flesh.
When the end seems to have come, when Jesus breathes his last, the wilderness is there, too, the wilderness of death and the grave. It might even be tempting to think Satan’s hope has finally been realized. All is forsaken.
But this isn’t the end of the story, is it? The end is not the wilderness, not the grave, not Satan. God’s love is not forsaken in the wilderness of death. On the third day Easter dawns, and out of the wilderness of the tomb Jesus walks free, very much alive in the Spirit and in the resurrected glory of His body.
Surprised? Perhaps by the mystery, but not by the victory. Jesus has and always will overcome the wilderness of this life, of this world, even and especially of Satan and his godforsaken graves. This is the message—the point of the story, the Good News: wilderness in any form has no power over Jesus. In fact, His resurrection, His abiding presence in Spirit, His Easter Day transforms wilderness into a garden. Nothing is forsaken through Jesus Christ the risen Lord.
The Lectionary this year offers a choice between two Easter Day Gospel readings, one from Mark the other one from John. Each offers slightly different details in the telling of the story. But common to both is that the disciples, both men and women, are greeted by the message of Easter, and in John’s Gospel the resurrected Lord himself, at the empty tomb. Both are stories of individuals hearing and receiving good news beyond the wildest imagination while surrounded by the wilderness of their grief—the wilderness of the grave.
Imagine the sorrow the women held in their hearts as they made their way in the darkness of the early morning to the wilderness of the tomb—that godforsaken tomb? We know what that wilderness is like. We know sorrow, loss, pain, disappointment, self-doubt, and fear. We know all too well the wilderness of hopelessness, meaninglessness, and loneliness. We know the sharp painful thorny wilderness of the tomb. It feels godforsaken.
But Jesus is risen from the dead. The final wilderness has been destroyed. Jesus not only overcomes death, but he also transforms it. His resurrection sees every form of wilderness, all that separates us from God and creation, changed through his resurrection, his selfless love and ministry. into a garden of life, hope, healing, reconciliation, and justice. Today is witness to His victory over the wilderness—His victory over every form of death. We, who receive in faith the promise of this Easter Day, are assured that this same resurrected Jesus will meet us and be with us in every wilderness this world and this life can put before us. By following him, resting in him, and trusting him, He will show us the way to green pastures and how to grow gardens of life and holy love that triumph over every thorn.
Alleluia, Christ is risen.
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia
