Oases in the Desert
Life is tough. On
many days, our spiritual lives can feel like a desert (especially if you live
in west Tennessee during the summer).
For lengthy periods (hours, days, weeks, months, or even years), we seem
to be unable to experience the joy, peace, and consolation of the Lord that we
so deeply desire. Who among us hasn’t
felt spiritual dryness at some point in our lives, as teenagers or adults?
If we are not prepared for this reality, it is possible that
our souls will become permanently parched and petrified. We become unable to receive any of the living
water that God wants to pour out upon us.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t want my soul to become like that.
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Photo found at KCET.com |
We can learn a lot about this situation from the history of
Israel, God’s chosen people. Our
spiritual lives mirror their story in many ways. If we can learn the lessons that God desired
to teach Israel, then perhaps we will receive the Lord’s provision much more
quickly.
The first lesson is about dwelling in the desert. For 400 years, Israel dwelt in slavery to the
kingdom of Egypt. And they got used to
it. They saw Egyptian gods and wealth on
a daily basis. They became so engrossed
in that way of life that they had nearly forgotten who God is and what He
wanted to provide to them (cf. Ex. 3:15ff).
They were far from the Lord.
In our own lives, it is possible for us to get far too
comfortable in the spiritual dryness of everyday life. Like the Israelites, we can become easily
distracted by physical pleasures like food or sex; by the comforts of wealth like
retirement accounts or opulent, ostentatious vacations; or even by the mundane
tasks of raising a family. There are far
too many people around who have come to believe that spiritual aridity is
normal. So, they fill their souls with these
other, less fulfilling pursuits.
The period after Israel’s liberation provides another
important lesson. God’s chosen people
found themselves in an austere desert, without the comforts of Egypt. Israel complained to Moses, their leader,
about God, even saying that they preferred to die in Egypt (cf. Ex. 16:3). Instead of following God’s plan, which results
in total freedom, they would have preferred continued slavery and death if it
provided mere physical comfort. Quite
simply, Israel was numb to what the Lord wanted to do for them and in them.
How many people do we know who have become numb, and who
have turn back from the Lord and His plan when life becomes difficult? They would rather remain in the comforts of
the world, with souls withering and dying, than trusting that life’s challenges
will lead to the abundant, complete joy about which Jesus spoke (cf. Jn. 10:10;
Jn. 15:11). We are called to serve as a
Moses-type figure to these people, calling them back to radical trust in God’s
providential plan.
Yet, God provides them with lessons and with sustenance all
along the way. A few days after crossing
the Red Sea, the Israelites find themselves with no water except bitter water. When Moses interceded for the people, “the
Lord showed him a tree, and he threw it into the water, and the water became
sweet” (Ex. 15:25). This is but the
first of many desert provisions for Israel.
This passage should cause us to think of Jesus’ Cross, which
is often called a tree. Like the tree
thrown into bitter water, if we allow the Cross to shine light onto the bitter
situations of our lives, the grace of Jesus Christ will make those situations
sweet. Many, many saints throughout the
history of the Church have written or spoken of the sweetness of suffering in
union with Jesus! The sweetness of
knowing that we can become holy, that we are becoming holy, takes away all of
the bitterness of suffering.
The Lord has provided an oasis for Israel, and they decide
that they will remain planted near twelve springs of water and seventy palm
trees. Even though they will have to
move again, this place and this moment is a source of great hope for their
journey. This place fills their physical
need and, more importantly, the Lord fills their spiritual need.
In our spiritual journeys, we must find moments or places
that are like oases in the desert journey of our life in this world. As I reflect on this, I am brought to think
about the oases in my life. There are,
of course, the Mass and the sacraments.
A sacrament like Anointing of the Sick, which I just received for the
first time recently, is especially capable of providing grace and hope in the
midst of physical or spiritual suffering.
The Scripture readings at Mass are a constant source of living water
(cf. Jn. 4:10), and the Eucharist is the Divine Life coming into my body and
soul.
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The Ubari Oasis in the Sahara Desert |
There are other oases that I have and need. On most weekdays, I get to spend an hour in
front of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, conversing with Him, reading His word,
and listening for His direction. There
is also the coffee, prayer, and conversation with my wife to begin each day by
which I receive inspiration for living out my vocation. Finally, but not least importantly, there are
the moments spent communing with my children, helping them to grow in age,
wisdom, and grace.
These moments allow me to receive from the Lord exactly what
He was trying to provide to Israel. Along
with Moses, I can proclaim, “You have led in your merciful love the people you
have redeemed, you have guided them by your strength to your holy abode” (Ex.
15:13). In this long desert journey
called life, the Lord provides wonderful oases along the way. And, I know that the final destination, his
“holy abode,” is the ultimate and unending oasis that will quench my thirst
without end. In the meantime, I will
rejoice with gratitude for the small oases that allow me to catch small
glimpses of that dwelling place.