A Ramble About the Desert

"There is a tremendous serenity about the desert." So begins a story that I started working on thirteen years ago. I'm still not done writing it, rewriting it, and turning it inside out. The character who speaks this line is sitting in the middle of one, musing about his life.

If you've ever been in a true desert, you'll understand what the line means. I was born in Yuma, Arizona, and every so often my family and I would pass through it again on vacation. Down in that little corner of the country it resembles a desert planet scene out of a science fiction movie like "Dune" or "Star Wars" (which is why "Dune" was filmed down there). It's quiet, serene, and sterile. It's the perfect place to muse or meditate without distractions. It has it's own beauty which not everyone can appreciate, but is there nonetheless.

From at least the third century up until this present day, Christians fled into the desert, and into mountains, and into mountains in the desert to meditate and remove themselves from distractions to focus on God. They abandoned everything to focus on progressing in their relationship with God and knowing Him better. Today, Orthodox monks in Egypt still do this, living in caves, and spending their time in fasting, prayer, worship and menial work. From such men as these we received the writings of great spiritual giants (though they never would have regarded themselves in this way) as manuals of practical spiritual growth.

The unfortunate thing about these men, is that most of them never left the desert. We only have their writings now, because someone went to their communities and collected and translated them for the rest of us to learn from. You see, unless you come out of the desert or down from the mountain-top, what happens there stays there. The only one who benefits from your experience is you, and you run the risk of self-centered spiritual pride.

There is a story behind the "fat buddha" statues which are so common. It is actually a statue resembling a Zen Buddhist Master who lived in China centuries ago. He was walking one day with a loaded sack on his back when someone asked him "what is the meaning of Zen?" He calmly put the sack down on the ground. The person then asked him, "what is the actualization of Zen?" He then picked the sack up and continued on his way.

A common understanding which can be found in the eastern mystical traditions is that once you reach enlightment, in order for you to be of any use to anyone you can't actually stay there. Enlightenment is a flash-bang fireworks experience, not a day to day living your life experience. Life doesn't stop when you arrive spiritually, and there is a "next day". In order for your experience to be of any use to anyone, you must be able to share it with others and help them down the path as well.

For Christians, this means that we cannot stay in the solitude of the desert or on the mountaintop alone with God, regardless of how beautiful or peaceful, because in order for our newfound experience with Him to be of any practical use to us or anyone else, we must be able to help others get there as well and this can't be done in isolation. There's a fine line to walk here, because those who are able to help often don't feel that they can, and those who feel that they can often really have no idea. So discernment and double-checking with those ancient Fathers to see if your experience lines up with theirs is important. Never assume that you alone have the answers, always check and see if it more or less lines up with those Christians who came before you whom you know are safe.

The desert is a great place to meet God, but it does no good to others if you can't bring Him to those outside of it.