A Voice Crying in the Wilderness

by Greg Sergent

As the fog lifts-off a cool October morning, anticipation fills the air as we load-up the car for the five hour pilgrimage together. A pastor’s heart becomes a little lighter with every passing mile from the mountains we call home to the destination of Nazareth, Kentucky. Stepping away in retreat somehow helps me see a little better. My spiritual vision becomes a little clearer, and as the noise quietens down, my heart deepens with resolve in my calling.

Retreat for us begins before we ever reach our destination. In other words we enjoy the journey together, even that long stretch of road called the wilderness trail. The wide open road now commemorates a time when the road was not cleared away or prepared. All along the way and while there, we have moments of pause and silence, sharing, laughter, listening, reflecting, analyzing. We ask, discover, seek, learn and knock. We tease out ideas, pray together, and explore everything from writing ideas, sermon series to real life issues. Our soul is hard at work preparing the way through the deeper and intimate labors of fellowship.

Eventually, our pilgrimage takes us through the back-winding “wilderness” roads that surprisingly opens up to an isolated, quiet monastery across the way, whose motto and practice is “silence spoken here”. The isolation there reprimands noisy living with the need for quietness and listening. Silence is the greater need of the soul, often neglected and less understood. Once a noisy soul gets de-cluttered and quietens down, the “still small voice” seems to speak up. It is then discovered, He was there the whole time, just covered up in the noise. In these retreats, my soul often hears from God.

The Wilderness Way

Two themes seem pervasive in the Bible. First, the self-existent God chooses to speak. He is revealed through His Word. The earth was without form and void until God spoke “let there be” and all reality came into being. Secondly, God is not adverse to the wilderness way to gain a listening ear. It was in the Sinai Desert that Moses encountered a burning bush, and heard the voice of God, and he received the call to take a message to Pharaoh.

Forty-years of wilderness wanderings were dedicated to the spiritual formation of the Hebrews. They were to learn their new identity as the children in a covenant relationship with Yahweh, being His own called out of bondage and slavery. A special people, called-out as a kingdom of priests among the nations being made holy unto their God. The wilderness was the context. So, the wilderness experience is synonymous with the idea of trials, testing, struggle, and pain and shaping God’s children who know and understand their God and His love for them. Weaning them from stubborn self-reliance, the way of the wilderness teaches to lovingly trust God and willingly obey His word.

For the children of Israel the desert was a place of anxiety, fear and dread, being hemmed in at the Red Sea and with the sight dust flying from Pharaoh's chariots behind them. They knew what this meant. Being hauled back into servitude and reclaiming their imposed identity as slaves as their future and destiny, according to Pharoah. God had a much better plan for His children. He always does. Moses received a sure word from God, “stand still and see the salvation of God”. They did, and God parted the water in a fantastic rescue, and they became witnesses of God’s judgment. The rest is history! And they would have never imagined that history was being made in this desert place. Yet, generation after generation still remembers its magnitude in their national history as they celebrate the Passover. History is always made where God fights the battle, and makes provision. It is the wilderness where He alone gets the glory.

The shepherd boy David felt the isolation of the desert. The night closes in upon you in the wilderness and you can hear everything imaginable and your mind runs to the unimaginable. So, you confront your fears (real and imagined), worries, and anxiety with what might be lurking in the dark. In the wilderness you learn who you are, and what you are made of, but more importantly where your trust rests. Like a little shepherd boy, David learned that he could trust God’s provision and care, and so he faced a foreboding, brutish, cursing giant with a sling and a stone. Where did David learn that God is trustworthy? It was alone on the back side of the desert tending sheep, he found His God as a refuge in the wilderness way. He pens beautiful Psalms of comfort in his reflections upon the shepherd who leads sheep through the rocky crags to peaceful meadows.

The God of Silence

By the time you get to the New Testament, the wilderness way had a well-earned reputation and well worn paths. Biblical historians remind us that when the ink on Malachi’s parchment was dried, the last sure and certain word from God’s Old Testament prophets had spoken. There was no “thus saith the Lord” at least known or canonized. It was a spiritual wilderness of sorts, where all they had was time to reflect upon a sorted national history. In this 400 year inter-testament period God seemed to be on hiatus, or some assumed He was away on retreat. The Essenes turned toward inward piety and personal purity and took to the mountainous wilderness to live in rock caves to study Scripture and search for God.

There is nothing like a retreat of silence that invites reflection, and tunes the heart and ears for hearing from God. It is true that silence does speak loudly. But, when the silence is broken you are ready to hear. Scholars suspect John Mark blazed a trail and prepared the way for a whole new genre of written literature that made literary news of the day. It was both a primitive and a primary source called “the Gospel” of Mark. Just like light piercing through the darkness, God breaks the silence with “good news”. It’s just what these wilderness wanderers needed, and it arrived not a minute too soon.

First-century believers needed a picture album of who they were trusting in Jesus the Messiah, and why they believed that he was good news even in the wilderness. By 65 A.D. Christians were worshiping in catacombs among the monuments of the dead in fear of arrest. Misunderstood by imperial Rome, Christians faced the fiercest persecutions, cruel treatment and even death under the reign of a mad-man emperor named Nero. These early Christians were in a spiritual wilderness in the worst way. Spiritual weariness and hunger were just wearing out the sheepfold.

I would like to think that as the Apostle Peter was recounting to Mark the life of and times of Jesus, Messiah and Savior; he said, if they could get a glimpse of Jesus like I saw Him. So a written, eyewitness account might help fulfill his vow of love for the Savior to feed His sheep. Peter knew what He experienced with Christ, and a good glimpse of Jesus both nurtures and encourages suffering soul’s in desert places. He knew that God breaks the deafening silence with good news in the flesh.

Mark’s gospel frames the Jesus story. His life, ministry, purpose, encounters, teachings, healing people, adversity, cross, death, burial and resurrection was on full display. Like thumbing through a picture album, Mark explains His life events and why He is good news in a world filled with sin, evil and injustice, suffering, persecution even death. The cross He carried was paradoxically a remarkable victory over sin through suffering. His bodily resurrection was a remarkable victory over death and hell. By the end of the gospel of Mark, Jesus is ascended over all earthly thrones and kingdoms and seated in the place of authority as Lord. If it is possible for “good news” to get better, it did. The anointed messiah who breaks the silence also comes in person. Jesus is Lord of all. He will judge the living and the dead. Desert places are not meaningless, or in vain, when Christ is the Lord of heaven. He is also Lord of the desert. The desert sands of suffering are sifted through the hands of sovereignty.

Wilderness Living

Mark opens up the gospel with a lone voice crying in the wilderness. The Word of the Lord became current and before their very eyes. The vessel was an old-school prophet throwback, named John the Baptizer. The baptizer was far from the mainstream finery of his contemporary religious counterparts. His was a rough-cut spirituality. Even his clothing was a throw-back to a by-gone era of Elijah, that most people had only heard about. The camel’s hair and leather belt were as rugged as the rough and rocky Judean mountains. Like his garments, neither was his message fanciful or well-seasoned. The truth of his words were not even palatable, but needed. Like his rugged diet of locust and wild honey, his message was forceful and yielded the authority of heaven. It pierced the heart, cutting through layers of sophisticated, finely crafted idols of the heart and the self-justified thinking that exalts itself against God and righteousness.

Good news is often missing in noisy, busy streets, or at least it’s silenced. So, this wilderness herald was attracting attention far and wide to the wilderness. Everyone from curious onlookers, people far from God, and many not as close to God as they pretended listened to this odd spokesman. His brazen call to repentance of sin from idol prone hearts and make clear a path of obedience. Yet strangely his message resonated with the hope of a king and kingdom at hand. His ministry aspiration was to be ever decreasing, while messiah might increase. It seems like an odd motivation for one so deeply driven for this upcoming kingdom. And people didn’t mind traveling far and wide to hear a voice that resonated with truth to the heart. John's pulpit was in wilderness places, but his message was as refreshing as a cool dip in the Jordan on a hot day. Many people were hearing and heeding that voice crying in the wilderness. They were repenting, and making a path straight in their hearts. Baptism was the evidence of God’s new, right now work; and they were making room and cleaning house for the coming kingly messiah. Jesus was right at their door.

John the Baptizer discovered something very few people ever understand, that the best place to be in life is in the middle of God’s will, even if it is the wilderness. It seems that God is not adverse to the rugged wilderness experience that exposes what pulls and tugs the heart away from full devotion to Him. You know, that stubborn, prideful self-reliance that determines to be self-sufficient, rather than giving God a prayer with tears. Tears are more than soiling the desert sand with regrets about life, but a humble crying out for God in what feels forsaken. It is abandoning the soul, to the one who promised to never leave you or forsake. The voice in the wilderness pointed to the person in the wilderness. It was Jesus! His feet were dusty with wilderness sand too, and He answered present one day at the Jordan River. The Kingdom of God was at hand! Heaven heartily approved of Jesus’ obedient baptism fulfilling all righteousness and reminding us that God’s favor fully rests in His Son.

There is no need to look for God’s favor any further, or try to gain God’s approval by some other means. Jesus is the “good news” Gospel of God, and in Christ is the fullness of God’s favor. He is right there in the wilderness, present in a difficult day. His favor is salvation and guides the process of conforming His children to His image. He is the “good news” for desert worn, weary travelers. His promise is to never leave or forsake, but to be with you to the very end.

Withering and Fading Places

Our wilderness wanderings may not be in barren wasteland physically, but make no mistake there are spiritual places where the soul is thirsty and dry and our feet mire-up in the dry sands. You just feel stuck, in-between where you are and where you want to be. Don’t be surprised by your wilderness path you’re traveling, but find joy in your traveling companion on the journey with you. It's time to have a good, long talk, with a friend who really "gets you" and hears your heart. Find your retreat in Christ and remember you are on a pilgrimage.

The wilderness experience may just be God’s structured means that strips away that noisy distraction that draws our focus away from God. In the silence of God’s waiting room, your ears are attentive to hearing your name called for the consultation with the doctor. If that is the case, then we have a friend sitting with you in that anxious room. He is a spiritual advocate thoroughly acquainted with the wilderness way. Isaiah the prophet refers to Him as the “man of sorrows” acquainted with grief. Jesus is our suffering servant. The New Testament reminds us that the one who has gone before us is presently with us, understands us, and intercedes for us, what we cannot verbalize. Even our silent prayers are understood by the Lord. Times of refreshing come from the presence of the Lord, even in the wilderness.

The refined prophet Isaiah reminds us that the wilderness is a withering place of fading beauty. In Isaiah 40.8, he describes it as “The grass withers and the flowers fade”. God allows nations, people and individuals in unwelcoming environments where vegetation is sparse or all but withering away. Once there were vibrant colors, bursting forth with excitement and life. Pleasant and fragrant aroma that once filled the expanse of life’s room with its goodness slowly fades like an evening sunset. When left with only fading memories of better times, remember that there is an oasis in the desert. The barren places are only temporary, but “the word of our God stands forever.” His word that endures is also an enduring comfort of a beauty that never fades.

A Voice of Hope

There is always a hope-filled promise to His people in spiritually and morally desolate places. A voice crying in the wilderness gives the promise of restoration. Isaiah reminds people that God plants streams in the desert. “Springs will gush forth in the wilderness, and streams will water the wasteland. The parched ground will become a pool, and springs of water will satisfy the thirsty land.” Isaiah 35:6b-7a The wilderness is meant for more than wetting our face with tears, it is meant to nourish a thirsty soul with “good news” until it flourishes with what God promised. Listen closely, a voice reverberates in the canyon of your heart with the truth of God’s word. His word fills it’s deep recesses with the firmest hope and a fountain of unspeakable joy. Yes, if you have an ear to hear, listen for the voice crying in the wilderness. It’s good news for the thirsty!