The gospel reading for this first Sunday of Lent tells us about Jesus' self-imposed "quarantine, his 40-day experience in the Judean wilderness before his years of ministry commenced. I've written often enough of how a number of central biblical figures encountered God in the midst of solitude and stark separation from humans. It's as though psychological and spiritual clarity and integration happens in those settings. While there may be an element of risk, the God who is the Creator, the divine source of storm and wind and blazing heat is heard with a different kind of clarity.
This morning I decided to forego heading to church in Trenton (it sounds as though I missed a delightful service) so that I could have my own quasi-wilderness experience while Ruth is away. I ended up skiing across fields and alongside woods on the edge of Saigwin Creek, which flows into the Bay of Quinte. For an hour or so I was about as alone in the quiet as is possible in the noisy reality of Southern Ontario. It was a bit icy and not the best for skiing, but it didn't really matter. I saw animal tracks and heard woodpeckers and felt the bracing cold on my skin on a sunny Winter morning. Judging by the long-range forecast this may be the last opportunity to get out on skis as we begin the journey toward Spring.
I'm grateful that I didn't meet up with Satan while I was out there, at least not to my awareness. I did have a sense of peace and clarity and I'm grateful that after decades of "show-time" urgency on Sunday mornings I could take this contemplative moment. What a gift from the Creator.
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