From the Desert to the Temple

Why is it the Lord had Isaiah foretell the coming of a prophet who would prepare the way for the Messiah’s coming by crying out "in the wilderness"(Is 40:3)? Why is it that St. John the Baptist found himself eight centuries later "in the wilderness of Judea"(Mt 3:1) crying out in fulfillment of this prophecy? What is the significance of the "wilderness" being the location to initiate the preparation for the Lord's coming? It would seem that more people would hear a prophet’s message if it were proclaimed in a city like Jerusalem where there was a substantial population to hear it. But out in the desert? A desert seems like a location conducive to the message going unheard.

It is in the city where all our necessities are met, if not in abundance, at least sufficiently, so the locus of our encounter with the Being whom we depend on entirely cannot be found there. It is in noisy, populated areas that distractions are met which divert our attention away from our reliance on Someone higher than ourselves. On the contrary, it is out in the desert, in the wilderness, where we come into real contact with God. It is when one goes out into the wilderness- into the wastelands- that he feels most acutely his vulnerability. This helpless humility fostered in the aridity of the desert fertilizes the soil of one’s spirit so that the Baptist's offer of help can be recognized and, in turn, heeded.

God will not force His way into our hearts. If we think and act as if He is an insignificant part of our lives, He will certainly remain an insignificant part. On the other hand, if, in emptying our minds of constant consideration of the fulfillment of our wants and desires, we enable space for God to enter in, then the desert seems like an appropriate place for the Baptist to begin preaching. By making ourselves barren of worldly things just as the desert is barren of water, we enable our spiritual porosity to absorb those heavenly things which our souls thirst for- even more than the parched mouth’s desire for a stream.

Moreover, there is yet another reason why the desert is, at least symbolically, a fitting place for the preparation for the Lord's coming to begin. Notice how it was not in the Temple- the center of Jerusalem- where the prophet’s voice is heard crying out; rather, it is on the outskirts of society. It was almost as if God wanted the road for His coming to begin being paved at the furthest distance away from His holy dwelling place in Zion. This is noteworthy because the road which does inevitably lead to encountering the Lord at the Temple begins at the furthest distance from it. Consequently, now no one, whether coming from the city, the suburbs, the countryside, or even out in the wilderness can say there is no way back to God from his location.

Regardless of the pain, the anguish, or the loneliness; regardless of the sin, the darkness, or the guilt; regardless of the dryness, the illness, or the disease: the road which leads to God Himself has already been laid from the desert to the Temple by the one who has gone before Him. From every walk of life, from every problematic situation, from every ensnarement to sin, saint and sinner alike have found a way back to God by the very fact that the Baptist's cry is heard far, far out in the desert.

The way has already been plowed, but it takes our effort to step out onto the road and begin travelling. Repent, pray, attend Mass, practice virtue, and make space for Him whose very sandal you are not worthy to untie (c.f. Jn 1:27). Perhaps, in addition to being a time to remember God's coming to us, Advent might also be a time for us to remember we must come to Him. It is only fair we meet Him halfway.