Catholic Men and the Desert Days of Lent

As a man, I love to hike and spend time alone in the woods on the wandering trails of New England. I confess that at times, I like to imagine that I am some kind of “Survivor Man,” ready to take on the harsh wilderness as I build a bush craft shelter out of paracord and spruce bows, set up a Siberian log fire, and live off the land. In truth, however, whenever I go on a hike, I am careful to prepare for every contingency as I fill my backpack with extra clothes, gourmet camp meals, and recreational tech. My GPS app guides me to my destination, my smart watch predicts the weather and tells me when sunset will arrive, and the music and movies on my phone lull me to sleep in my sturdy tent shelter at the end of a long day of trekking on well-marked trails.

Still, there is something wonderful about these wilderness adventures; and I find myself caught up in the challenge of a hike through dark forests, down deep valleys and up steep summits, as I test my stamina, resolve, and courage. There, away from the chaos and insanity of the civilized world, I am able to let go of my inhibitions and seek the comfort and joy of surrender with my Savior.

Such “desert days” are especially meaningful during the solemn weeks of Lent. Out there, alone with my Maker, I experience an almost sacramental awareness of what it means to be a Catholic man. Each step along the rugged path of the woods calls me to a deeper relationship with the One who made the greatest wilderness journey, through the depths of humanity’s sin to the triumph of the cross. My time with Christ in these lonely places helps to renew and refresh my wandering heart as I find my rest in him, not only during the Lenten season, but all throughout the year.

Stripping Ourselves of Selfishness

God has a purpose for Catholic men when He calls us to spend time in desolate places during the season of Lent. Whether the wilderness we enter is physical or spiritual may not really matter. Such times of testing allow us to travel to those deep, dark, and deserted places inside us where we encounter the voice of the accuser whispering to our inner ears that we are a failure, full of falsehood and destined for a life of mediocrity and unworthiness. Many times too, that reproachful voice is our own, built up by years of mistakes, sin, and selfishness. We may spend tremendous amounts of time and energy keeping ourselves too busy and preoccupied deal with what it means to enter the inner chamber of our hearts.

But when we finally surrender and take those bold first steps into the wilderness of our souls, we find ourselves overwhelmed, alone, and vulnerable – and this is where the work of remaking our lives can begin. There, in our own Garden of Gethsemane, we come face to face with the weight of our sinfulness as we stand spiritually naked before our Father. Stripped of selfishness and pride, we arrive at the end of ourselves and lay our sorrows before God, whose mercy flows from that tree of life upon which hung the Savior of the world.

The Cleansing that Leads to the Confessional

Often, when I am struggling along the rough and rocky terrain of the trails, I enter into the gentle Confessional of the Woods. My strength is spent, my thoughts are no longer bogged down with worldly worries, and my eyes are fixed on the hills I need to conquer before I can rest. With nowhere else to run and no one else on which to rely, I find myself pouring out my sins and sorrows before the throne of God, seeking his forgiveness and restoration, and allowing his grace to overwhelm me and cleanse my soul. There, in that place of desolation and despair, God becomes uniquely present to me in my exhaustion and grief. It is truly a transformational experience, a holy bodily mortification that mirrors any fast I could undertake in my everyday world.
Jesus spent 40 days and nights in the wilderness just prior to starting His earthly ministry. There He was tempted to turn stones into bread to satisfy His hunger; to throw Himself down from the temple and allow the angels to bear Him to the ground; and to claim all the earthly kingdoms in exchange for bowing His knee to the Prince of the Air. Yet, each time the tempter tried to sway the Savior with quotations from Scripture, Jesus answered with the word of God in order to put the great deceiver in his place. (See Matthew 4:1-11). His trial became a holy testimony to his love for his Father and his commitment to the cause of our salvation.

This should be our Lenten prayer – that the fidelity and strength of Jesus will become our comfort and our challenge, a soothing balm in a weary land, and a sobering call to embody the will of our Father as we turn from the tempter and seek to love with the power and grace that leads to self-surrender.

Wilderness Sacraments

When the day of hiking is done and I reach my destination, I am exhausted, filthy, and hungry beyond belief. There, in the place of shelter, I pitch my tent, clean my body and change my clothes, and prepare a hearty camp meal. I light a fire for warmth and bask in the glow of its golden flames as the sun sets and I rejoice in the accomplishments of the day. The aches and spiritual anguish give way to the serenity of rest and refreshment. I drink freely of the life-giving water I need to replenish my weary frame. I feast joyfully on a satisfying supper, recalling the struggles that have led to this time of quiet contemplation.

How like our Lord’s earthly journey this is. Jesus left the mansions of heaven to enter the wilderness of this world, walking the dusty roads, descending to the places of dirt and sin, and ascending to mount of Calvary, where he surrendered his life to cleanse us from our trespasses. His crucifixion cleansed our hearts from every transgression. His sacrifice was freely given so we could receive him as food in the Eucharist, rejoicing with thanksgiving and peace. By giving his life, Jesus has led us to our place of rest and refreshment, giving us the sacraments to pour God’s grace into our lives.

Lent is our holy sign, our journey into the wilderness where we meet the Savior in his suffering and come out on the other side redeemed. As we walk the way of the cross with our Lord, as we experience the surrender that comes from fasting, abstinence, and almsgiving. As we receive the sacraments of Confession and Eucharist, our earthly suffering is transformed as we unite our pain to the sacrifice of Christ on the cross.

A Journey to be Embraced

My three-day wilderness adventures are challenging, but so very glorious. Even when there is rain and wind and cold, there is still a great comfort in meeting my Savior in a place where my surrender is joined to his sacrifice. When the hike gets hard and I wonder what insanity possesses me to load my backpack with supplies and venture out into the unknown alone, I am reminded of the One who made the arduous journey to the Calvary alone. Yes, Jesus was afraid to face his death; and still he walked the way of the cross. In taking on the burden of all our sins, his anguish was so intense that he sweat blood. And yet, in the end he embraced the cross, scorning its shame and seeking the fulfillment of his Father’s will for the joy set before him, the joy of reconciling his people to God.

Like our Lord’s times of prayer in the lonely places, my Lenten journey is a joyful encounter with the Almighty. As I meet the Savior in the Confessional and the Communion table, I enter the place where salvation is accomplished at the cross. I see how heaven was won for me through the wilderness journey of my Savior. His “curse” in being hung upon the tree, removes the curse of sin from my life. I am spared the punishment I deserved because the One who deserved only glory walked the lonely way of Golgotha, laying down his life in love – for me!

Because our Lord walked this desert way, each day of Lent becomes for me a time of blessed sorrow, personal challenge, holy surrender, and immeasurable joy. As I meditate on the desert experience of walking through the wilderness of this season, I am held in a moment of awe, transfixed by the beauty of the cross, where the ugliness of my sin is removed in the sacrifice of Christ.

A Song of Self-examination

Walking through the days of Lent with Jesus allows us to explore our own inner journey of transformation as we come to terms with God's plan for our lives. This is the way of conversion, where our inner wrestling with the reality of our redemption strips our souls and lays bare our humble confession of unworthiness before a holy God. And as we struggle through this walk of faith, we experience both being and becoming, seeing ourselves as we truly are and yet, as we can truly be.

Psalm 139 is a wonderful song of self-examination, one that can help us to appreciate our connection to the God who knit us together in our mother's womb. Here, the psalmist lays his life before God, acknowledging his total dependence on the One who knows him so intimately that he is overwhelmed by the power of His eternal presence. In this blessed communion, he knows that there is no place to go to get away from God, and that all his inner turmoil and darkness is not hidden from the One who is Light and Love itself. In that sweet surrender of sacred fellowship the struggles and strivings give way to a love so powerful that it casts everything outside the realm of God's presence with a holy hatred and washes over the psalmist in a flood of grace. It is so wonderful that leaves him calling for God to search out all his inner rooms to eliminate anything that will come between the Lover and the Beloved. 

O LORD, you have searched me and known me!
 You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
 You search out my path and my lying down,
and are acquainted with all my ways.
 Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O LORD, you know it altogether.
 You beset me behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is high, I cannot attain it.
 Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
 If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
 If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, “Let only darkness cover me,
and the light about me be night,”
even the darkness is not dark to you,
the night is bright as the day;
for darkness is as light with you.
For you formed my inward parts,
you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you, for I am wondrously made.
Wonderful are your works!
You know me right well;
my frame was not hidden from you,
  when I was being made in secret,
intricately wrought in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes beheld my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
  the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.
How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18If I would count them, they are more than the sand.
When I awake, I am still with you.
O that you would slay the wicked, O God,
and that men of blood would depart from me,
men who maliciously defy you,
who lift themselves up against you for evil! 
Do I not hate them that hate you, O LORD?
And do I not loathe them that rise up against you?
I hate them with perfect hatred;
I count them my enemies.
Search me, O God, and know my heart!
Try me and know my thoughts!
And see if there be any wicked way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting! (Psalm 139 RSV2-CE)

That is the power of our Desert Days! May we never be afraid of getting real with God, of walking into the darkness and desolation of our self-centered souls where we can experience the transformation that comes after the trial. May Jesus cleanse us and free us to continue the journey toward home through the season of Lent. Take the words to heart and make them your own. Let them be your prayer to carry you through your wilderness journey of Lent.