David Orendorff, Mark 1:12-13

The most important words, in my opinion, in today’s scripture are the last six words—“and the angels ministered to him.” Notice that the angels don’t fly down and lift Jesus out of the wilderness as if it never happened. They are the presence of God caring for Jesus when he is in the wilderness.

And so it is for us. Even in the worst of times the angels, as they ministered to Jesus in the wilderness, minister to us. This is our hope, and for those who have tried the faith, it is our experience that the angels care for us when all around seems set to crush us.
But to know the care of angels we must experience the first 27 words. They are not easy words to hear and even to live. Our life is the simultaneous experience of wilderness and divine care, of testing and grace.

It all begins quietly and gently. In Mark’s recounting of Jesus’ baptism, we read that Jesus saw “the Spirit descending upon (or more literally “into”) him like a dove.” So gently, peacefully the Spirit came into Jesus and his ministry and mission begin.

But in the very next verses the gentle Spirit turns violent: “the Spirit immediately drove (Jesus) out into the wilderness.” The word translated as drove also has the meanings of throw out, cast out, and banish. It is something that happens to someone against their will by a power they cannot resist. In a few words Mark makes clear the consequence of the Spirit’s driving force.

Wilderness carries the meanings, when applied to a place, of lonely, lone, desert, desolate. Whatever the Spirit is forcing Jesus to experience, he will experience it without family or friend.

And this wilderness is not just an overnighter; it is for 40 days. Forty days is the number days of the great flood; it is the number of days and nights Moses was on the mountain with God; it is the number of years the Israelites wandered in the wilderness before coming to the Promised Land. Each case of 40 involves being tested and cleansed before the new humanity; the new relationship with God or the Promised Land can become more than a hope. Forty is not so much about being a counting number as about being the amount of time necessary for God to speak and for us to listen, be cleansed and transformed.

For all the days Jesus is alone in the wilderness, he is tested by Satan. The Greek word chosen for test has its violent side as well. When used in reference to a person, it generally means to put on trial. And in this case the prosecutor of the trial is the king of violence, Satan.

And just so we don’t miss the violence to which the Spirit is subjecting Jesus, the place to which the Spirit banishes Jesus is not only lonely, it is a savage place. It is filled with wild beasts.

You may not like what Mark has to say today any better than I do. Is it really God who drives Jesus and us into this violent wilderness? I remember early in my career presiding over the funeral of a small child who had died. At the reception I was standing next to the mom when another mother came to her and in hopes of comforting her put her arms around her and said something like, “God must have needed another angel.” The mother of the dead child looked stunned and wounded and said, “What kind of God would steal my baby for his own pleasure?”

Yet, here it is. It is the Spirit; it is God in the wind that drives Jesus to the wilderness. But this driving is neither for our pleasure nor God’s. Sometimes—and you know this is sadly true—we don’t listen until we are in pain or fear. Sometimes we have to be tested in order to grow in grace. And as much as we don’t want it to be true, and as much as it makes us fear, God sometimes is the one who drives us out of our comfort to face evil directly and alone.

This experience, the experience that, after we say yes to God as Jesus said yes, the Spirit violently drives us away from our previous community, into a savage part of our soul where alone we are tested by the evil one within us, is exactly what we needed to have happen.

Oh, there may be a moment, like Jesus had, when we hear God claim us and the Spirit enters our souls in dovelike fashion. But there will come a time, dear brothers and sisters, when we are immediately cast out from all that is dear to us and we are tested in the most trying kind of way. Some of us have been to war and have seen the worst of being human. Some of us have faced or are facing diseases which threaten us or the ones we love. Some of us have heard the boss say, “Pack your desk, you no longer work here.” Some of us have heard a spouse tell us we were no longer wanted. All of us have been had the experience of being suddenly driven into the lonely wilderness and there, for however many 40 days it takes, we have been tested by Satan.

I say we are alone, but I am not right, for there are the last six words, “and the angels ministered to him.” It was true his whole life. Whether he was in the wilderness or on the cross, Jesus was cared for by the angels. So it is for us. In our days of deep testing we are cared for by angels.

I need this reminder right now. 2008 was a wilderness year for me and my family in many ways. You know some of it as many of you were caring angels while mom died. And in 2008 I upset our Bearcreekian fruit cart asking us to listen to God for our ministry. There were also other struggles with health and relationships that remain personal and which mostly I must face alone. Vickie and I in stereotypical fashion began to really feel that aloneness, that wilderness, when all the company for Mom’s memorial service, and then Christmas, went home.

A friend, not knowing of how I was feeling, wrote me the words I needed. She reminded me of what was essential. She is describing a weekend with her five grandchildren.

The kids made stores in the basement and shopped…it was so cute. Of course, we shopped, too. It was wonderful to be able to watch the kids together and to get to play with them, love them, feed them, sleep with them…by ourselves.

Now this may not sound angelic ministry to you. But what I know is that friend almost never gets to be alone with her grandchildren and, to my knowledge, never alone with all five. It is even rarer to have them to themselves for a weekend. She is passionate about being the grandmother, and this one weekend is the work of years of prayer, patience, tongues sometimes pierced for the biting, divine intervention and a healthy amount of grace. What she couldn’t make happen, the angels in the bodies of children and grandchildren, brought to her.

It was absolutely essential that in this wilderness wandering we let the angels care for us. When I feel alone and even afraid in some wilderness, I have learned to repeat over and over, “Trust God, trust God, trust God…” And as I trust God I begin to see the angels who were with me from the beginning, and I know they will be with me to the end.

As I pray trust in God nothing really changes. The wilderness is still the wilderness. Wild beasts are still wild beasts. And Satan is as busy as ever. But while the violence does its business I have peace. I have peace, as Paul says, that passes understanding. And even while there is terror all around, the angels feed us in body and soul.

Friends, when we let the Holy Spirit in, we will alternately know the gentle peace of the dove and the terrible violence of the world. There will be times when because we didn’t get what we want we will feel unheard and cast out from community. There will be times when a fundamental reason we love Bear Creek will be up for discussion, and maybe our sacred cow will bleed, or even die. We will know times of disease and dying. All of us have known or will know a time when the Spirit has driven us into the wilderness for 40 days, to be tempted by Satan; and to live with wild beasts.

Whatever the time, however it works violence upon us, we will also know the angels caring for us. We will know that God in angels of all kinds is with us and cares for us in all times, even the times of wilderness. The first 27 words of today’s scripture would be unendurable without the last six words; “and the angels ministered to him.” May you know the ministry of angels in whatever wilderness you might be driven.

Amen and Shalom.