Who Comes Out of the Wilderness?
Section 3-H
by Vincent Rossi
Who is this that cometh out of the wilderness like pillars
of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense?
Song of Solomon 3:6
Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness leaning upon her beloved?
Song of Solomon 8:5
Our age has become enthraled with
“virtual reality.” It has become possible with cybernetic meta-machines to image almost anything one can imagine. We are tempted to see this burgeoning information technology as transforming our world into a more spiritual place. But we must not confuse the cybernetic with the spiritual, nor virtual reality with concrete actual reality. If we were truly sensitive to the physical-spiritual interplay of our body/soul/mind, would we not notice a certain deadening of awareness, an almost imperceptible dulling of our minds, a slight feeling of emptiness in our souls, when we spend a lot of time working with computers or staring at
television screens or video monitors? That vague restlessness or uneasy feeling may well be a signal that virtual reality is closer in essence to the infra-natural rather than the supra-natural, consuming our psychic energies without return.
Be that as it may, our organisms register exactly the opposite effects when we are in touch with the wilderness of virgin nature or, as we are told by the lives of the saints and the personal accounts or ordinary people, when we are touched by the grace of the angelic realm. A day at an ocean beach, a hike in the mountains, a walk in the woods, or a backpacking trip through the wonders of nature: these are invigorating, life-enhancing, soul-deepening, spirit-enlivening experiences, always leaving us more centered, more integrated, more aware than when we began. Encounters with angels also have this quality in abundance as we are told by those so blessed. The spiritual world, as well as the natural world that reflects it in virgin wilderness, seems to have a life-enhancing, almost paradisal dimension. This is not to say there are not dangers to be aware of in both the angelic realm and in wilderness, but as C. S. Lewis wrote of Aslan in the Narnia series, he is after all “not a tame lion.” We are encountering primordial wilderness. The spiritual world of angels, and the wilderness of virgin nature in which we humans were originally created by God to participate, both have their own laws, but they are not tame. They are wilderness.
A day at an ocean beach, a hike in the mountains, a walk in the woods, or a backpacking trip through the wonders of nature: these are invigorating, life-enhancing, soul-deepening, spirit-enlivening experiences, always leaving us more centered, more integrated, more aware than when we began.
Wilderness is a fundamental theme in Holy Scripture. The word itself occurs approximately 300 times in both Testaments, from Genesis to Revelation; however as a theme or context it occurs many more times. By far the great majority of the occurrences of this theme appear in the Hebrew Scriptures of the Old Testament. Its occurrences in the New Testament, although fewer than the Old Testament, are nevertheless of immense significance, since wilderness invariably appears in contexts of prophesy, prayer, spiritual power and the presence of the Holy Spirit in the life, mission and purpose of Jesus Christ.
In Scripture, wilderness is an ambivalent symbol, communicating at leave five basic meanings. In the first place, it represents desolation, waste, the absence of God, place of judgement, or place of punishment. In the second place, and in direct contrast to the first, wilderness equally represents the place of God’s covenant, hence the place of Divine presence, grace, gift and mercy. Wilderness is the place where God chooses to speak to his people, where He manifests His power. Third, wilderness is a place of refuge, of security in insecurity. It is the place where God’s elect often go to escape the machinations and malice of the enemies of God, to restore their spirits and to renew their strength. Fourth, it is both a place and an agent of cleansing, healing, purification and transformation. Fifth, wilderness is a visible symbol of the infinitely unknowable, yet absolutely real, Divine Nature.
Wilderness is a fundamental dimension of human life and experience. It is the very matrix of the human experience of being. Wilderness is not a trendy concept invented by the present generation of environmentalists; it is a theme that appears at the very beginning of Genesis and runs throughout the Bible to the very end of Revelation as a fundamental datum of human/divine interaction. It is a basic experience of human beings since our expulsion from the Garden of Eden.
In wilderness may be found the footprints of God, but they are obscured by the shadow of the fall. Wilderness is the trace of the Trinity that seers like St. Augustine and St. Maximos the Confessor perceive within creation. Wilderness is the fleeting image of Paradise in virgin nature; yet it is also the shadow of the cherubim’s flaming sword denying us entry into paradise. Wilderness is a sacred, secret garden to saints and a frightening desert to sinners.
Wilderness is not waste, nor are its laws, relationships, ecologies and economies wasteful. The economy of virgin nature, which is the law of God written into its every part, is so perfect and balanced that we have not yet begun to comprehend it. Wilderness is frightening because in it we perceive, however dimly, an order so vast, an intelligence so deep, a harmony so perfect, a beauty so piercing, a power so immense, a law so just and implacable that it dwarfs into nothingness our human successes, failures, concerns, projects, politics and personalities. Yet wilderness is exhilarating, renewing, uplifting, cleansing and healing, and for exactly the same reasons that it frightens us! We humans need wilderness as much as we need community and culture. The thought of a world without wilderness is unthinkable, unimaginable, unendurable. Yet there are people and organizations today thinking such thoughts. A world without wilderness is not a Biblical world; it could only belong to Anti-Christ.
The yearning for wilderness is not merely an “aesthetic” taste, as some would have it. It is something much deeper, connected to the core of ourhumanness, our createdness. At its most basic, it is nostalgia for perfection, purity, innocence, sacredness – turning away from our world “bleared, smeared with toil,” to a place untouched by the desecrating, sinful hand of humanity.
More deeply, we are drawn to wilderness to regain balance, to humble ourselves before greatness, to heal the sickness in our soul, to regain our humanity and our capacity to worship, to pray. This is, after all, exactly what God Himself used wilderness for, as a place and a means for purification of His chosen people! Our Lord Jesus himself, as a man, set the perfect example for all humanity by often retreating to the wilderness to pray, and as God, sanctified wilderness forever by his presence therein and his victory over Satan.
Most of all, the lure of wilderness is a hunger for the presence of God. In our heart of hearts, perhaps not even admitting it to ourselves, we go to the wilderness secretly harboring the hope that we will see One coming "out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense." No matter how many hours we spend in church, somehow in the wilderness, standing under the dome and in the nave of God's great cathedral, that hope becomes almost tangible. Surrounded by irresistible organic life or in the silence of severe desert beauty, our querulous, questioning mind quiets, the psychic knots in our breast unravel, our heart melts, and we are ready perhaps to listen for the still small voice of God. And when we return to "civilization," perhaps – we hope – someone there will see into our soul and exclaim, "Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness leaning upon her beloved?"