Lent is a season that invites us to take a journey. This year as we travel the path between Ash Wednesday and Easter morning we are invited to journey in and through wilderness spaces. This invitation is coming to us from Joanna Harader, author of our resource devotional book: Prone to Wander: A Lenten Journey with Women in the Wilderness. Joanna issues this invitation at the beginning of her book:

“As we enter this season of Lent, I invite you to come and wander with me in the wilderness. We will keep company with biblical women who live in the literal wild spaces of desert and forest, those who inhabit landscapes of fear, pain, and grief. While their physical landscapes may be unfamiliar, I expect you will recognize the emotional landscapes quite well. So I invite you into the familiar unknown. I invite you into the paradox of wilderness.”

This idea of wilderness, of fear, grief, disorientation, of paradox and familiar unknowns may seem a bit too familiar to us in this moment of time. It doesn’t feel like it will take too much seeking for us to encounter wilderness around us, as much of what is happening right now in our country is a bewildering wilderness experience. It is wilderness of shifting landscapes and expectations. It is a wilderness full of uncertainty and anxiety. It is a wilderness of demoralization. The definition of demoralization is this:

Demoralization: to deprive a person of spirit, courage; to dishearten, bewildered; to throw a person into disorder or confusion.

Living through a season that is working hard to discourage and dishearten us doesn’t seem like a great time to choose to explore and intentionally encounter more spaces of wilderness. Many of us are working from day to day to keep our bearings and now this lenten season is inviting us to seek wilderness spaces that may actively put our bearings to the test.

Mechanically speaking, a bearing is an element of a machine that supports movement – it helps reduce friction during that movement. In a car, wheel bearings are a part of the car that enable the wheels to rotate with minimal friction. When they wear out or go bad you might hear a chirping noise, or a grinding, or like I heard in my Subaru this week: BBBBBBBRRRRRRRROOOOOAAAAARRR. When mechanical bearings start to malfunction, there are warning signs that indicate a need for support – and if one should ignore those indicators the bearings can fully break, locking up the wheel, or even making it fall off totally, veering the vehicle off its intended course.

Now, we humans are not machines, yet losing our bearings – our understandings of where we are and who we are in relation to the context we are in can have just as troublesome an impact on us. It can cause friction in our relationships, anxiety in our spirits, and stall us in our attempts to move, be that in body, mind, or spirit. When we experience these symptoms, it may feel like we have been tossed into the midst of an unfamiliar wilderness space; and it may also be an invitation to us to pay attention and, when needed, seek or offer support.

I had to go to a mechanic this week to have wheel bearings replaced on my car – and with a combination of replacement parts, tools, skills, and labor, my car is now once again driving smoothly and quietly (well, as quietly as a 12 year old Subaru runs!). So, while weariness, caution, and uncertainty may lead me to question whether intentionally adding a layer of wilderness to our living is really a good idea, having been reminded this week of the power and experience of help and support, I also find myself wondering if this might actually be an excellent moment to turn towards wilderness exploration – especially towards the stories of those who have encountered, survived, and even found ways to thrive in the midst of wilderness spaces. And within those stories, to seek and find new perspectives on wilderness and to learn about tools that can be put to use to find our bearings for survival and thriving.

We don’t need to look too far in scripture to find these stories. In our resource book, Joanna begins her invitation into the journey in the wilderness with Eve and a story found in the second chapter of the whole Bible. From the beginning, people have experienced wilderness spaces and have learned how to seek, find, and love God, themselves, and others in the midst of all sorts of experiences whether unknown, unexpected, or even unfathomable.

Today we have also encountered two additional wilderness stories. One, during scripture sketchers, about Jesus who willingly goes into the wilderness for forty days to prepare for his time of public ministry. Jesus chose to spend time in solitude and prayer, rooting and grounding himself – a tool he put to use at the end of his wilderness journey when temptation arrived and tried to demoralize him, to take advantage of his weakened state to gain power over him, an attempt that failed three times because Jesus had prepared himself, had rooted and grounded himself in his own identity and in relationship to God so that he could, under pressure, respond with clarity and wisdom that rebuked the attempts made to twist the narrative of his purpose and power.

Jesus’ wilderness story offers encouragement and insight: In rooting and grounding ourselves, we can be prepared to respond to unexpected encounters in the world with clarity and wisdom that rejects false narratives and makes space for love and justice.

The second is the beginning of the story of Hagar’s journey in the wilderness. A complex journey of fleeing from a space of a known community that had become unsafe, due to Sarai’s mistreatment of her, to a place of isolation in the desert beside a small spring of water. A true wilderness space that she deemed more life-giving than staying within the confines of a threatening space of community and provision at a personal price. There, pregnant and alone in the midst of that wilderness space, Hagar encounters God, receiving assurances and blessings from God about the future wellbeing of the child growing within her womb at that time. And Hagar doesn’t simply encounter God – Hagar also recognizes and names God: “You are the God of Seeing!”

Hagar’s wilderness story offers encouragement and insight: Setting boundaries is an act of health and wellness that makes space for unexpected blessings and invites us to encounter and recognize the Holy in new ways.

Joanna’s book, Prone to Wander, will continue to invite us into these kinds of encounters over the next five weeks. Encounters in which challenging situations result in life-giving growth and possibility. Stories that invite us to expand our imaginations as we consider how we might engage with spaces of wilderness we find ourselves in.

To accompany these stories, Joanna has written a blessing for each week from the perspective of the women who are featured in that week’s stories and invited me to collaborate with her on those blessings by creating a visual companion for the written words. My reflections resulted in a series of vistas – vistas of a wilderness journey – vistas that interact with the words of each blessing in unique ways and also invite us to pay attention to the details of the landscapes surrounding us, to take in unfamiliar shapes, to linger as other elements resonate with us in familiar or new ways, and when needed to shift our perspective on those details so that we might encounter something new or find spaces of wisdom, beauty, and connection in the midst of the journey. As the weeks go on, we will see more vista images show up here in the front of the sanctuary as part of our worship arts display, and you will also receive them alongside the written blessing in a weekley Lent reflections email that will offer additional ways to consider and act in the midst of this wilderness journey.

As we travel this path in and through encounters in wilderness spaces – another tool available to optionally put to use you will find printed and in the pews – an image of a labyrinth. A path you can tangibly trace with your finger as you meditate on the wilderness spaces around and within you (you may have to take turns with others in your pew – and if we need more in the weeks ahead we can make them). The labyrinth in this image may be familiar to you. Its form was inspired, in part, by my participation in this community and the residual impact on my spirit of the giant labyrinth we put on the wall for Lent two years ago. It serves as a reminder that we are not alone in any space, God accompanies us in all things, and when it is harder to recognize God in moments, we have connections to community within and beyond the walls of this space that swoop in, accompanying us as an embodiment of living love. Connections that encourage us to keep on keeping on even, and perhaps especially, when we are feeling demoralized by the wilderness spaces we are in. Community accompanies us when we are in need of support and also offers us ways to get involved in community work that supports, accompanies, and makes new spaces possible for others.

Stephanie Harrison, author of the book “New Happy”, recently wrote this about countering demoralization on substack:

“There is nothing that heals demoralization more than realizing that there is good work going on and, not only can you be a part of it, but you are a desperately needed part of it, because there is an impact that only you can make, and that you get to do it alongside other people, who are also making the impact that only they can make.

Remoralizing ourselves is a skill, one that we learn through trial and error, by showing up when it’s difficult and celebrating ourselves when we do, and most of all, by building the systems that support it. Because, under the right conditions, dealing with challenges is what leads to confidence, growth, and meaning—the exact opposite of demoralization!”

Choosing an intentional journey through wilderness spaces may not be an easy path, yet it is a path where we are likely to encounter the Holy, an encounter which may appear to us in the form of an opportunity to accompany others who are also in search of a life-giving path through a space of wilderness. Joanna also names the challenge of the journey in her invitation to this season:

“To willingly enter the wilderness of Lent is an unfathomable act for those who prioritize ease and comfort. But these women in the wilderness remind us that deprivation can allow for deep provision, that disorientation is a precursor to clarity. If we want to live fully, we have to live bravely. If we hope to meet God, we have to venture into the frightening and sacred places where God so often shows up. Or rather, places where we are more likely to take notice of God’s presence. Because in these wilderness places, our illusions of self-sufficiency are wiped away and we are forced to cry out to God, who will hear and answer, who will provide for our needs and accompany us on the path.”

Wilderness spaces invite us to open ourselves to the presence of God and to be living love in the world as we join in the work of accompanying each other through wilderness paths.

In closing and as encouragement for the journey we are undertaking, I want to share Hagar’s blessing with you – the vista created to accompany these words is the tower of vessels here on the right – feel free to let your eyes linger on it as you listen, or perhaps you may take in the blessing better by tracing the labyrinth, or by closing your eyes, breathing, and being present as you receive this blessing:

I see we have found ourselves together
in the wilderness.
Those of you who are fleeing
and those who’ve been cast out;
those passing through
and those settling in–
whatever brings you here,
I’m glad to be your companion for a time.
I can show you the secret spots of shade,
but you will have to decide that it’s okay to rest.
I can take you to the hidden wells,
but you will need to draw the water.
I can show you where I met God,
but I doubt the Holy One will show up for you in exactly the same place.
I can breathe along beside you in the silence,
but you will have to open your own soul to the presence of the divine.
You will need to speak your own name for God.

It is good, my friend, to be here with you.
Please allow me to offer you this blessing for your wilderness journey:

May your wells be full.
May your life be free.
May your love be fierce.
Amen.