Beginning in 1957, Edward Abbey worked as a seasonal park ranger in the Arches National Monument in southeast Utah. At that time, there weren't a lot of tourists visiting that location and Abbey found himself alone often and with time on his hands. Eventually, his book Desert Solitaire grew out of that experience. In its introduction, Abbey writes:

"This is not primarily a book about the desert. In recording my impressions of the natural scene, I have striven above all for accuracy, since I believe there is a kind of poetry, even a kind of truth, in simple fact. But the desert is a vast world, an oceanic world, as deep in its way and complex and various as the sea. Language makes a mighty loose net with which to go fishing for simple facts, when facts are infinite. ... What I have tried to do then is something a bit different. Since you cannot get the desert into a book any more than a fisherman can haul up the sea with his nets, I have tried to create a world of words in which the desert figures more as medium than as material. Not imitation but evocation has been the goal."

The Gospel text we begin Lent with is found in Mark, when Jesus comes up from the waters of his baptism and is immediately driven by the Spirit into the wilderness.

I invite you today, to consider your thoughts on “wilderness experiences.”

What feelings do they bring to your heart and what thoughts to they bring to your mind?

Friday

The book of Psalms is the hymnbook of the people of Israel. Many psalms are upbeat songs of praise, but not all. Some, like Psalm 25, are truly sorrowful, offered to God in the middle of a challenging and difficult time. This psalm asks for guidance and deliverance, speaks of enemies and people who are treacherous, reminds us of the sins of our youth, and makes the point that we are all sinners.

Psalm 25 is a sad song.

The value of the psalm is that it is honest about the things that make us feel terrible. The song puts our trust in the God who is merciful and loving, and who instructs sinners in the right way. It makes us feel good because it draws us closer to God and to each other.

“To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul,” it begins. “O my God, in you I trust; do not let me be put to shame; do not let my enemies exult over me” (Psalm 25:1-2). In the face of a serious threat from enemies, the psalm-writer reaches out and asks God to “lift up my soul.” According to Mario Attie-Picker, a philosopher at Loyola University Chicago, our love of such music is not an appreciation of sadness. It’s an appreciation of connection.

This focus on connection is significant, and it has a number of layers. It raises questions such as: To what are we connecting? A higher power? Our past selves? Our future selves? The people around us? And, most importantly, how do these connections help us?

Psalm 25 begins by connecting us to a higher power. “Make me to know your ways, O LORD. … Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all day long. Be mindful of your mercy, O LORD, and of your steadfast love, for they have been from of old” (vv. 4-6).

In this sad song, the LORD is “the God of my salvation,” the One who has the power to save and rescue us from enemies, trouble or illness. The God of salvation provides us with victory over danger, defeat or distress. This higher power is also the One who shows mercy and “steadfast love,” a love that is called hesed in the original Hebrew. This is a word that communicates a love that is much more than a romantic or sentimental feeling. Hesed is often translated as mercy, kindness, lovingkindness or steadfast love. There is eagerness and intention in hesed. It is a choice that God makes to show us mercy, kindness and love.

Whenever we sing this song, we are connecting to the God of our salvation, the God of mercy and steadfast love. This is a song that is bound to make us feel good.

The psalm also connects us with our past selves. “Do not remember the sins of my youth or my transgressions; according to your steadfast love remember me, for the sake of your goodness, O LORD!” (v. 7). The sad songs that move us the most are those that are the most authentic. They speak honestly about the sins of our youth and our transgressions.

When we connect with our past selves through Psalm 25, we are asking for the forgiveness that only God can offer. We are confessing to the God of steadfast love, to the One who has chosen to show us mercy and kindness and love. Our sadness over sin is replaced by the joy of having the burden of our guilt removed.

Psalm 25 also connects us to our future selves. “Good and upright is the LORD,” says the psalm; “therefore he instructs sinners in the way. He leads the humble in what is right and teaches the humble his way” (vv. 8-9). When we sing this song to God, we are asking to be given a new direction for our lives. We want God to show us “the way” and lead us in “what is right.” Having discovered that our past choices have resulted in sadness, we want guidance toward joy and satisfaction.

Our future with God involves moving in a new direction, walking in the way of Jesus Christ. It is no accident that the community of the first followers of Jesus was called “the Way” (Acts 9:2). This was “a way of life that stood in glaring contrast to the world,” writes Christian radical Shane Claiborne. In “this kingdom everything is backward and upside-down — the last are first and the first are last, the poor are blessed and the mighty are cast from their thrones.” The way of God offers our future selves a path to new life.

The psalm connects us to the people around us. “All the paths of the LORD are steadfast love and faithfulness, for those who keep his covenant and his decrees” (v. 10). The Christian faith is not an individualistic experience but takes place in a community of people who keep God’s “covenant and his decrees.” A covenant is a promise-based relationship, in which we promise to be faithful to God, and God promises to be faithful to us. It goes all the way back to God’s covenant with Abraham, one in which God promised that Abraham’s descendants would be as numerous as the stars in the sky.

As Christians, we are covenant people. As Christians, we are always connected to God and to one another.

These connections help us by binding us together in the body of Christ. The “body does not consist of one member but of many,” says the apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 12:14. This is such an important arrangement, because each of us has different gifts and abilities. Every member is valuable, and every talent is needed for the body to do Christ’s work in the world. We especially need these connections as challenges come our way. As Paul says, “If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it” (v. 26). Whether we are experiencing bad times or good, we need each other.

Psalm 25 connects us to God, to our past selves, to our future selves, and to the people around us. It strengthens our bonds with each other, in bad times and in good. And it points us to the covenant community known as the body of Christ.

—Henry Brinton and Carl Wilton contributed to this material.