Desert experience

As we enter the Lenten Season of 40 days, we most urgently need to be led by the Spirit to our own desert experience, as Jesus did in today’s Gospel incident (Mk: 1:12-15). Entering the solitude of His heart, Jesus felt and experienced His oneness and solidarity with all of mankind. And this was what He lived for, and died for.

Compassion was the core of His spiritual leadership. And what is compassion, in the fullest sense of the word?

"Compassion manifests itself in solidarity, the deep consciousness of being part of humanity, the existential awareness of the oneness of the human race, the intimate knowledge that all people, however separated by time and space, are bound together by the same human condition. Solidarity is more – much more – than in the intellectual affirmation of shared humanity; it is the profoundly felt experience of human sameness" (H. Nouwen).

A profoundly felt experience of human sameness. This was the whole meaning of the person of Christ. This is the only way to live life on earth and experience the kingdom of God – here and hereafter, as preached by Jesus after His desert experience. He preached from a language of the heart, more than from a language of rationality. In fact, many of his words and actions were "irrational."

How do we learn this language of the heart from our own desert experience? We can start from small, seemingly insignificant moments during this Lenten Season. Opportunities come our way in our ordinary lives, if only we allow ourselves to be moved by them.

Like the many instances in my counseling room when I allow myself to feel deep, very deep compassion for troubled persons I have never even met before.

Or while our vehicle is waiting for the traffic light at Libis – a beggar suddenly approaches me with an outstretched hand, or a shabby-looking out-of-school youth presses me to buy his sampaguitas or sweepstakes tickets. I may not be able to do much for them at that moment except to give a five peso coin to the beggar, or buy a bunch of sampaguitas from the boy, even if I did not intend to. But something more significant happens at those moments when I allow the beggar’s eyes to meet mine, or at those instances when I allow the boy’s person to affect mine.

I may not see them for sometime after that, or perhaps ever again, but I have given them a place in my heart, in my most personal concerns, in my prayer. And such moments influence my bigger decisions, actions, and involvements at a later time.

Most of all: Those Satanic acts of terrorists in Mindanao – the heartless killing of innocent victims in Davao, Zamboanga, and elsewhere – these cry out to the heavens for swift justice. What more can we do for the survivors and their families, and what can we do to bring back those killers to the ways of God?

And what about the Americans under Bush, the Iraqis under Hussein, and the rest of us. Are we not brothers and sisters in the Lord?

Lord, show us the way from violence to peace, from hatred to love. And may the sacrificial death of our innocent victims give way to a new life for our nation and the world just as Jesus suffered and died, that we may have new life.

Let the words of Jesus in today’s Gospel be our guiding light: "This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel" (Mk. 1:15).