All the best, Joseph! A wonderful and timely reflection. Thank you for returning to the fray with a gift for all of our nervous systems: a reminder that solitude, too, is holy.
I just wish it could equate to escape hatch in the end. Nothing about the ending really makes sense. It wasn’t his vibe to stick around and commit suicide for everyone
You would really like Rich Mullins. In the mid-90s, the Christian recording artist who wrote “Awesome God” moved to the Navajo nation to teach music to kids. Everybody was shocked, because he was bonkers famous. When asked in an interview why he did this, he said “I just kind of got tired of a white, evangelical, middle-class perspective on God, and I thought I would have more luck finding Christ among the pagan Navajos.”
I’d never considered that Jesus himself told the temptation story to his disciples (how else would they have known?). I guess I assumed the Satan exchange was fabricated but that the retreat into the desert for “forty days” was real. Along with his many other shorter excursions into nature alone . But what if Jesus did experience something like you did as you walked through the forest? A vision. A sensation. I’ll read those narratives differently. Glad you’re back.
I too have had my hours, sometimes days, in the Wilderness. Wilderness for me means perspective. It did for Jesus. I feel that it does for you.
For me the Wilderness means listening : not speaking, not trying to justify myself -- just listening for the "still small voice" asking first, as It did to Elijah, "Why are you here", thus inviting me to take a penetrating look within, to ask reverently, and then let the Spirit minister to my soul.
Thanks for sharing your perspective on this incident in Jesus' experience and ours.
After the Exodus, the people went into the wilderness, and Scripture records that all of them died except for the children born afterward. The types of people who died in the wilderness—priests, kings, adulterers, soldiers, enforcers, and so on—mirror the very people Jesus ministered to. He said he came for the sinner, not the righteous.
Here's the crucial point: those wilderness types were all still living with a king mentality. Even though they had physically left behind Pharaoh's logic, they never unlearned it. They were tainted, and because of that taint they could not enter the promised land.
So the wilderness Jesus walked into—the places he went, the people he touched—was exactly that same graveyard. He went to those who were already "in the grave" while still walking around. They didn't make it to deliverance or salvation the first time, so the call came again: complete the journey. Those same types are still in the world today—people who never finished the journey.
Now Jesus often spoke about two kingdoms in parables. That is really about two authorities. There are only two foundational relational authorities in the world, no more.
One is quite visible: hierarchy. You find it in business, politics, religion, and so much more. It is a top-down, centralizing system. It is good at organizing the necessities of life. It writes policies, has enforcers, ranks people, and so on.
The other authority is a child firstborn. It reorients its parents and the whole world toward its vulnerability—and, by extension, toward the vulnerable in general. No one really sees this one.
These two authorities are structurally incompatible. They are always in tension.
Hierarchy, when unrestrained, drifts toward kingship and coercive control. At that stage, those who hold power hold themselves higher than the child's authority. They become quite like those who died in the wilderness—still operating under Pharaoh's logic. Kingship cannot see the child, but it fears the child, because the child causes a fracture in loyalty to the king. It cannot win against the child, so it works to subdue, silence, deflect, and contain whatever the child does. And no matter how hard it tries, the next child born creates another fracture. The only solution to avoid endless fractures is to yield to the authority of the child.
We can read the nativity story: the magi—learned, wise men—sought out the child and worshipped him. But the king, Herod, feared the child.
Many people do not know about these two authorities, even though they have read the gospel narratives. They see words like "love one another," "forgive others," "forgive your enemies," and they think those are rules to follow. But as soon as something becomes a rule, it becomes something to enforce—and that is operating under hierarchy, not living authority.
When you consider these only two authorities, which one is aligned with God? With the statement "God is love"? It is the child. That is why Jesus says: be like the child; the child belongs to the kingdom; do not harm the child.
Since people do not know about the two authorities, can you blame them for what they do? No. You might even say you forgive them, because they know not what they do. Instead, you teach them. You show them that within them and close at hand is the kingdom of living authority.
You place conviction and hope in what is unseen. With perseverance, what finally emerges is a recognition: one serves living authority (the child), and hierarchy is merely a structure—a tool for the well-being of all whom one serves. This allows people to be raised to life, finally freed from hierarchical control, so that they can complete the journey and thus be delivered—saved.
The path to deep faith runs through the forest of failure
All the best, Joseph! A wonderful and timely reflection. Thank you for returning to the fray with a gift for all of our nervous systems: a reminder that solitude, too, is holy.
So is safety. And fellowship with the only bird of a feather in his life, seems like
Preach that, Adam!
Seems so obvious, once seen, doesn’t it? Can’t unsee it.
I just wish it could equate to escape hatch in the end. Nothing about the ending really makes sense. It wasn’t his vibe to stick around and commit suicide for everyone
Yes
You would really like Rich Mullins. In the mid-90s, the Christian recording artist who wrote “Awesome God” moved to the Navajo nation to teach music to kids. Everybody was shocked, because he was bonkers famous. When asked in an interview why he did this, he said “I just kind of got tired of a white, evangelical, middle-class perspective on God, and I thought I would have more luck finding Christ among the pagan Navajos.”
https://rabbitroom.substack.com/p/rich-mullins-the-unmissionary?r=pjxkg&utm_medium=ios
I’d never considered that Jesus himself told the temptation story to his disciples (how else would they have known?). I guess I assumed the Satan exchange was fabricated but that the retreat into the desert for “forty days” was real. Along with his many other shorter excursions into nature alone . But what if Jesus did experience something like you did as you walked through the forest? A vision. A sensation. I’ll read those narratives differently. Glad you’re back.
I like this painting.
I too have discussed this.
I also really like ur honesty.
I hope that you are healed.
Sounds like you’re doing good, I’d say.
I too have had my hours, sometimes days, in the Wilderness. Wilderness for me means perspective. It did for Jesus. I feel that it does for you.
For me the Wilderness means listening : not speaking, not trying to justify myself -- just listening for the "still small voice" asking first, as It did to Elijah, "Why are you here", thus inviting me to take a penetrating look within, to ask reverently, and then let the Spirit minister to my soul.
Thanks for sharing your perspective on this incident in Jesus' experience and ours.
Hope you're doing okay man! God bless.
He didn’t get
Killed preaching yhwh to Jews. Duh. It’s his fellow outcast. 40 days is vibing lol
It’s his friend, or father, mb. Heretic = Devil
After the Exodus, the people went into the wilderness, and Scripture records that all of them died except for the children born afterward. The types of people who died in the wilderness—priests, kings, adulterers, soldiers, enforcers, and so on—mirror the very people Jesus ministered to. He said he came for the sinner, not the righteous.
Here's the crucial point: those wilderness types were all still living with a king mentality. Even though they had physically left behind Pharaoh's logic, they never unlearned it. They were tainted, and because of that taint they could not enter the promised land.
So the wilderness Jesus walked into—the places he went, the people he touched—was exactly that same graveyard. He went to those who were already "in the grave" while still walking around. They didn't make it to deliverance or salvation the first time, so the call came again: complete the journey. Those same types are still in the world today—people who never finished the journey.
Now Jesus often spoke about two kingdoms in parables. That is really about two authorities. There are only two foundational relational authorities in the world, no more.
One is quite visible: hierarchy. You find it in business, politics, religion, and so much more. It is a top-down, centralizing system. It is good at organizing the necessities of life. It writes policies, has enforcers, ranks people, and so on.
The other authority is a child firstborn. It reorients its parents and the whole world toward its vulnerability—and, by extension, toward the vulnerable in general. No one really sees this one.
These two authorities are structurally incompatible. They are always in tension.
Hierarchy, when unrestrained, drifts toward kingship and coercive control. At that stage, those who hold power hold themselves higher than the child's authority. They become quite like those who died in the wilderness—still operating under Pharaoh's logic. Kingship cannot see the child, but it fears the child, because the child causes a fracture in loyalty to the king. It cannot win against the child, so it works to subdue, silence, deflect, and contain whatever the child does. And no matter how hard it tries, the next child born creates another fracture. The only solution to avoid endless fractures is to yield to the authority of the child.
We can read the nativity story: the magi—learned, wise men—sought out the child and worshipped him. But the king, Herod, feared the child.
Many people do not know about these two authorities, even though they have read the gospel narratives. They see words like "love one another," "forgive others," "forgive your enemies," and they think those are rules to follow. But as soon as something becomes a rule, it becomes something to enforce—and that is operating under hierarchy, not living authority.
When you consider these only two authorities, which one is aligned with God? With the statement "God is love"? It is the child. That is why Jesus says: be like the child; the child belongs to the kingdom; do not harm the child.
Since people do not know about the two authorities, can you blame them for what they do? No. You might even say you forgive them, because they know not what they do. Instead, you teach them. You show them that within them and close at hand is the kingdom of living authority.
You place conviction and hope in what is unseen. With perseverance, what finally emerges is a recognition: one serves living authority (the child), and hierarchy is merely a structure—a tool for the well-being of all whom one serves. This allows people to be raised to life, finally freed from hierarchical control, so that they can complete the journey and thus be delivered—saved.