Lent 1, Year B, 2021: Litany for the Wilderness

The bulk of my work can be accessed via Patreon
Patreon helps me make this work sustainable.
Thanks for reading and subscribing.
You can find archived litanies here, and purchase my book here.
Attribution guidelines are here.


Oh! Here’s the Baptism account I was telling you about last week! Right here for us all to contemplate again. Jesus is baptized, then heads out to the desert to take care of some inner work. There aren’t but 2 sentences dedicated to Mark’s description of Jesus going to the desert. Matthew and Luke give Jesus in the desert more airtime, noting that he fasted and prayed in the desert, but Mark only stresses the point that he was tempted by Satan and cared for by angels. John (the non-synoptic one) doesn’t mention any of this at all.

(Aside: So, 2 out of 4 gospels give us THE WHOLE SEASON OF LENT? I find this funny; you’d think all four gospels would need to agree in order to justify creating a *whole liturgical season.*)

The Catholic Vatican Council II identifies two central elements of the season of Lent:

  • Baptism: either recalling it or preparing to undergo it

  • Penance

In other words the spirit of the season, as they imagine it, is that it is an extended ritual of purification and preparation. Which, as I mentioned last week, all wisdom traditions (that I know of) contain. 

We wash ourselves, and then we let the desert dry us off. That arid, sandy ground; empty, nowhere for longing to hide. So dry and desperate it cracks open. 

Jesus went out to the desert wilderness; but in my experience, the desert often comes to us. And the desert is what has my attention just now. I am thinking of that solitary expanse. The harshness of it, but also the beauty. I am thinking of how resonant Jesus’ expedition there is to me just now; Mark says the “Spirit drove him” there (NRSV). I am thinking of the circumstances in my own life that drive me to someplace bleak and essential, where the only thing for me to focus on is my own longing, my own thirst. And where I must overcome the temptation to resort to *any old thing* to relieve me of the discomfort of existing there.

When the waters of my baptism have evaporated off me, I recall them with yearning. Yet. When I’m dry as dust, and I am distilled down to my essence, there comes an opportunity for new clarity. The desert can teach me why I’m on this journey anyway.

And here is our invitation: to accept the desert. To not go the long way ‘round. To experience it and feel it - the hunger and the cold and the scorching sun and the desperate thirst - and allow it to show us who we are, and to prepare us for the real work we are here to do.





God, as Christ goes out into the wilderness
To experience solitude
To refrain from distraction,
To be tempted to escape discomfort;
So we find ourselves, at times, in a similar place:
Whether we chose to go there or not….


Easter 6 (Year A): Litany for The Way Through

Only 2 more Sundays in the season of Easter. Then Pentecost. Then ordinary time. In our small community here on the outskirts of the Austin Metro area, we have a family experiencing a tragic loss. This in the midst of a global pandemic and the accompanying upheaval and uncertainty. And the pandemic is overlaid atop ongoing systemic racial injustice, as we mourn the murders of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and the countless other Black people who have been lynched in this country.

The Easter season is about resurrection while we are walking through a time of unveiling, and among families experiencing death. As it so often does, the Lectionary prompts me to reflect on the Now in light of its account and what wisdom I can glean from it. How to reconcile?

“In him we live and move and have our being,” the author of Acts quotes Paul as saying. “God has listened…[and] given heed to the words of my prayer,” says the Psalmist. “I will not leave you orphaned,” says the Christ in John 14. 

Here’s a prayer for us as we navigate this dissonance: the ever-present love of God alongside the pains, traumas, and losses we inevitably experience in this life. 


God, we are tested.
We are tried as silver is tried.
We are never guaranteed physical safety.
We know that with love comes risk of loss.