Entering The Canyon: Lent Week 1

View from our campsite in Capital Reef National Park

Edward Abbey was a lover of the desert, of solitude and of the danger of complete aloneness in the deep canyons and cliffs of America’s southwest. In the preface of his most famous book, Desert Solitaire, he writes an unexpected benediction: “May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view… beyond that next turning of the canyon walls.”

I had never been in a real canyon before. Our trip to western national parks last summer focused in on both the world’s greatest trees and some of its greatest canyons. Trees rise up, reach to the sky, they are alive and actively building mass and growing upward. Canyons go down, dig deep, strip away and reveal the layers of the past in geological time. The canyons of the southwest were carved over millions of years as water ran from the Rocky Mountains over the Colorado plateau, carving deeper and deeper into the rock.

For explorers, backpackers and hikers, canyons can be the most beautiful places to find solitude and can also be the most unpredictable places that present us with real danger.

In 2003 Aron Ralston, an experienced outdoorsman, cannoneer and hiker went on a solo adventure in Canyonlands National Park in Eastern Utah. Canyonlands is probably the most vast wilderness of slot canyons in the country. Ralston ventured down into the remote Blue-John Canyon. A bolder dislodged deep in the canyon trapping his left arm between it and the canyon wall. For five days he was trapped, with almost no food or water. During what he thought would be his final night alive he had a hallucination in which he saw a child and himself as a father, missing his left arm. That morning Raston broke the bone in his arm and then amputated it with a dull two inch pocket knife. He lost 40 pounds, was severely dehydrated, was in danger of bleeding to death, but he survived. Later we’ll hear about how Ralston went on the live his life, forever changed by the canyon.

While getting into a situation like that of Ralston is to be avoided at nearly all cost, canyons can provide us with an opportunity to reach our limits, to face the deeper realities of who we are, who God is. Canyons represent the stripping away of all unneeded baggage on our backs and inside our psyche, just as canyons strip away the rock digging deep into the earth, revealing the truth and creating beauty.

Beldin Lane says that:
    “Canyons hold the prospect of drowning or getting lost. Old canyon rats recommend the latter. ‘Don’t ask the way of those who know it, you might not get lost,’ they say. They know that losing your way is critical if you have any hope of finding a better one. In the canyon maze you may well realize that you’d been lost for a long time, that this is the place to finally deal with it.”

Téah and Lyle, my eldest and youngest children, ready hike, tedy bear too.

From highway 24 in Utah just east of a tiny town called Torrey, Teah, Lyle and I entered a broad canyon carved into the red rock by millennia of flash flooding. Our trailhead had a few other cars at it and a sign telling us about the short chimney rock trail which would lead us into the start of the narrow canyon. The canyon route had no trail in it, just a route on a map that would lead us twelve miles to the Freemont River. As we entered into the wilderness we knew it would be different than anything we’d ever experienced before. We were in a canyon, in the desert, and in true wilderness, no roads, not even any trails for the that matter, no cell phone, nothing. As we descended into the canyon we knew that we would have to traverse one section up on the side of the cliff to avoid dropping into a tiny slot canyon, like the Blue John Canyon where Ralston had lost his arm. This one was full of water. Upon entering I wasn’t sure if we could or should make that journey, was it too dangerous for Lyle and Teah? As we progressed the canyon walls got taller and taller and more and more amazing. We traversed the steep canyon wall to go around the slot canyon and made it to our camping site.

Lyle peering down into the slot canyon, 30' below

Near there I pulled out my trusty water filter, which up until then had not been used on our trip. As I pumped the water through it I couldn’t figure out why the water was leaking all over me. Everything was put together right, the filter was right, but something was loose. The filter was missing a simple O ring to seal the parts together. The only water around was thick with mud from recent rains. The canyon had no flowing water only pools and puddles that looked like one of those chocolate fountains you find at a wedding. There was no way we’d have enough water and we couldn’t even boil that muddy water to drink, just too much sediment.

It was near dusk, we were out of water, no cell phone access, I had put my kids in a dangerous situation with faulty gear. Luckily we didn’t panic. We searched out a giant flat rock with holes worn into it by thousand of years of pebbles washing around in them in the rain. Those holes had each gathered a few gallons of water, enough for us to cook with and to boil and let cool for the next day’s hike. After finding the water and setting up camp, I can’t tell you how relieved I was.

We had a great time those two days. I would say it was one of the most profound and memorable backpacking trips Ive been on. Lyle did a great job, Teah did awesome. While we were never lost, I totally understand what Ed Abbey was saying. Every time we turned a corner the canyon revealed more unexpected grandeur. Some places the trees and small forests were the surprise awaiting us, other areas it was the birds or animal tracks in the mud. Always amazing were the views of sheer cliffs and sculpted rock. If we hadn’t ventured into the danger of it, the chance that something would go wrong, the possibility of flash floods or the chance of losing our way and getting lost in one of the many side canyons, we would not have experienced the silence or the beauty of that place.
At the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, he left his everyday life and ventured into the wilderness. Jesus’ reasons for entering a time in the wilderness seems very similar to why many of us do the same. Jesus knew that time is solitude, time in nature, time stripped down to the most simple things, would help him deal with the big questions of his identity and purpose.

Read Scripture:
Matthew 4:1-11 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
The Temptation of Jesus
4 Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. 2 He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished. 3 The tempter came and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” 4 But he answered, “It is written,
‘One does not live by bread alone,
    but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”
5 Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, 6 saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written,
‘He will command his angels concerning you,’
    and ‘On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’”
7 Jesus said to him, “Again it is written, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”
8 Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor; 9 and he said to him, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” 10 Jesus said to him, “Away with you, Satan! for it is written,
‘Worship the Lord your God,
    and serve only him.’”
11 Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him.

Lent is an opportunity to strip off some of the burdens that hold us back. We don’t know much about Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness, we only have this story that happens after the 40 days when the tempter comes to him. What we do know is that he fasted and he was alone for over a month. Jesus allowed all earthly things to be stripped away so that he could connect with God, connect with God’s purpose in his life, and come to know himself and God more intimately. That’s what the canyons represent, a stripping away and a revelation of truth.

Canyons in the middle east are hot, dry places. The wilderness around the dead sea is vast, with pocket canyons, steep slopes, walls that drop hundreds of feet, and very little plant life - much like the deserts and canyon lands of southern Utah.

While many people enter the wilderness for an adventure, they often return as changed individuals. Anyone who spends significant time in wild places, and make an effort to connect to the creator, the creation and the self in those places, comes out a changed person.

Cultures all over the world have traditions that help young people experience the wilderness as rites of passage as they become adults. For thousands of years indigenous people on this continent have participated in rights of passage. Many of these rites include time alone in wilderness as well as time in community, where the community confirms the identity and the goodness of the young person. Some tribes such as the Mandan of North Dakota had harrowing initiation rites for young men to become honored warriors, others involved lengths of time intentionally lost in the wilderness. Today young indigenous men and women still enter into rites that include both communal and individual elements.

Jesus experienced communal confirmation of his identity as the son of God at his baptism, just prior to our passage. And our lectionary calendar has brought us through epiphany, the time when we celebrate Jesus’ baptism. Jesus heard the voice of God say “this is my son, in him I am well pleased”. In our own baptism we hear these same words, that we are children of God and that God has chosen us. In the catholic church those being baptized even receive a new name, just like Apache boys and girls who return home from time in the wilderness and are given new names with new meaning intimately connected to their wilderness experience.

In our tradition, baby’s are baptized, sealing their belonging in the family of God. It is through confirmation that our young people are fully welcomed into the community as full participants. Sadly, in our country I don’t think we do enough communally or individually to help children experience God in the canyon as they become adults. Jesus experienced communal confirmation of his identity as the son of God at his baptism, then he entered the wilderness to come to know himself and God more fully.

For some of us the canyon of Lent is a time of letting go of privilege, there is no favoritism in wilderness. Jesus entered the wilderness and fully let go of any notion of divinity. Jesus, who had just been spoken to by God, could have gone directly to the crowds, to the temples, and proclaimed his message of salvation, proclaimed himself the Son of God, the Messiah. But he does the opposite. Jesus is tempted to live into his power, his divinity, but in the canyons of the wilderness all power and privilege is stripped away.

Deep in the canyons of southern Utah no one cares about what we have done in life, where we have been, what castles we have built. All that matters in the canyon is the here and now. The canyon has no favorites and gives no privilege.

Lent can be a time of stripping off and letting go of the baggage of who we have tried to become in this world. Lent can be a time of letting go before God so that we might come to know who we really are, and not who we have tried to be or who the world has propped us up to be. Lent, as a metaphorical canyon, takes away our status, our privilege, our standing in this world, and allows us all an experience God.

For the majority of history the church has been led by those with the most privilege. And now, for us, we are living in the most privileged country ever on earth. And we see the church doing two things, trying to hold on to as much power and privilege as possible or losing privilege in society but gaining back it’s prophetic voice. Throughout church history those in power have governed the church. Lent has always been a time for us to strip away at our power and privilege to find what really matters before God, the truth of who we really are. In Lent we find forgiveness. In Lent, the powerful and privileged are given the opportunity to find the right posture before God and realign ourselves with the complete humility of Jesus’ ministry.

For others of us the canyon of Lent is a time of experiencing the freedom of wilderness. Jesus always sided with those who didn’t need to strip away privilege because they had none. Jesus spoke to both the powerful and brought them down from their thrones of power, and the powerless, with whom he most closely identified. The canyon and the wilderness are something different to those who have little to be stripped away. Instead the canyon may be the place of freedom from the burdens placed on them by the world and by those with privilege. For many the canyon may represent a vast freedom that seems too big, too scary. Freedom from this world may represent an unknown vastness even an emptiness. That experience of emptiness just might be the experience of God.

This freedom from oppression may be more difficult to accept than we would like it to be. It’s hard to let go of the ways we have been sinned against. Lent is the time to accept the freedom that Christ offers to all who belong to him. Letting go of the ways we’ve been sinned against can be really hard and complicated. If this idea is hitting a nerve with you, I encourage you to seek out a spiritual director or a therapist. I’ve done both in my life and I can’t tell you how good of an experience that has been.

Jesus’ experience of the wilderness was hard. Just after being baptized Jesus entered the wilderness and let go of all worldly attachments, he let go of both his privilege and his burdens. But, even though it was very difficult in the wilderness, Jesus made it a spiritual practice to connect with God through wild places, through silence and solitude and through nature, throughout his ministry.

Since losing his arm Aron Ralston has succeeded in becoming the first person to climb every mountain in Colorado that is above 14,000 feet … solo, in winter. His experience of the canyon made him stronger and made him continue to pursue wild places.

I am quite a literalist when it comes to needing time in wild places. For some it may be metaphorical. But, I think for Jesus, and for most, if not all of us, time in nature is time with God that helps us let go of all that gets between ourselves and God.

As we enter into the Canyon of Lent, knowing that you probably are not embarking an actual canyoneering expedition this month, what practices might you put into these 40 days that will help you do the things we’ve talked about: Let go of our privilege, strip away the layers toward a more true self, and let go of the burdens placed on us by others.

I would encourage you to do what Jesus did regularly in his ministry and find time alone in nature during lent. Leave your phone and your lap top behind and experience a natural place where God might work on your heart.

As we enter the wilderness during Lent are we willing to enter into spiritual practices that  strip away our privilege, reveal our sin, reveal the truth, reveal who we really are before God? For others of us, are we courageous enough to enter the canyon of Lent and find freedom from the burdens of the world? Are we able to let go of the ways we have been wronged, the ways we have been betrayed and let down, and find freedom in the vastness of God?