The Desert: a Source of Life, Not Death
by Paulist Fr. Rich Andre
February 19, 2018

Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily on the 1st Sunday of Lent (Year B) on February 18, 2018, at St. Austin Parish in Austin, TX. The homily is based on the day’s readings: Genesis 9:8-15; Psalm 25; 1 Peter 3:18-22; and Mark 1:12-15.



We begin our Lenten journey, as we begin it every year, with Jesus during his forty days in the desert. But Mark’s gospel, instead of hearing the specifics about how Jesus was tempted, we are left to imagine Jesus’ time in the desert.

Of all the places I’ve traveled, the place that is most unique to me is the American Southwest. In Travels With Charley, John Steinbeck describes the American Southwest: “It seems deserted,” but it is a “sanctuary from the sins of confusion.”

The desert not a place of punishment. It is a place of starkness. A place to more readily face not only our fears and our failings, but also our hopes and our dreams. When we receive the waters of life again this Easter, may we more fully appreciate God’s abundant grace and mercy. 


When I was an engineer, my favorite place to travel for work was Tucson, Arizona. Tucson and the surrounding Sonoran Desert absolutely fascinates me. It’s a completely different ecosystem from the temperate forests I grew up with in the Northeast. Saguaro cacti, tiny birds and rodents, the jagged mountains not worn down by erosion. When you see a flower in the desert, you really appreciate the beauty of the bloom!

John Steinbeck admires the desert for other reasons. He writes: “

The desert, the dry and sun-lashed desert, is a good school in which to observe the cleverness and the infinite variety of techniques of survival under pitiless opposition. Life could not change the sun or water the desert, so it changed itself. The desert, being an unwanted place, might well be the last stand of life against unlife.

A lot of people wonder why so many Christians come to church on Ash Wednesday. It’s not a holy day of obligation, yet it’s a day we see many people that we don’t see the rest of the year. Why is that? Some people say it’s because you get something for free from the Church. Others say because it’s the only public forum in the western world where people can publicly acknowledge that they are sinners. But I think there’s something else. On Ash Wednesday, we receive a physical sign that reassures us that we are living the life of faith. Every other day of the year, whenever we scrutinize our lives and try to determine whether or not we’re living out our Christian values effectively, we’re filled with doubt. But on Ash Wednesday, if you have a smudge on your forehead, you can be assured that for that day, you’ve done the right thing. 

In the year 313, when the emperors Constantine and Licinius issued the Edict of Milan, Christians in the Roman Empire faced a crisis. Until then, you knew that you were a good Christian if you were being persecuted by the authorities. But now, how could Christians be assured that they were living a life of holiness? Some Christians headed to the deserts of Egypt to live ascetic lives. The desert was a place to face one’s fears, to scrutinize one’s way of life without distractions.

Why did the Holy Spirit drive Jesus into the desert? We’ll never know for sure, but it was clearly part of God’s plan.

This Lent, let us all head into the desert. Let us be more deliberate in scrutinizing our current way of life. I think most of us approach Lent from too self-centered of a perspective. It’s become a time for each of us to scrutinize our failings and for each of us to try to grow in relationship with God. For many of us, we think of the personal inconveniences of fasting and almsgiving. But that was never intended to be the main point of Lent. Why do we fast? For the same reason we give alms. We are to be in solidarity with the poor, and the money we save by eating grilled cheese and lentil soup should also be given to the poor. 

As we head out into the desert for Lent of 2018, let us remember that we are not alone. The Desert Fathers and Desert Mothers formed the earliest Christian monastic communities, and they welcomed other Christians who made pilgrimages to the desert to seek out their advice.

This Lent, after we’ve faced the hard truths about ourselves and our failings, let us act as a community. We began this season by placing soot on our foreheads and gathering to hear the prophet Joel proclaim a fast. In the desert, let us not ask the Holy Spirit only about our personal failings; let us also ask the Holy Spirit how we each contribute to a society that allows so much violence to be done against vulnerable people.  

As Steinbeck notes, the desert may look desolate, but it is teeming with life: 

When the sun goes down and the night gives consent, a world of creatures awakens and takes up its intricate pattern…. The night awakes to buzzing and to cries and barks…. Even our own misguided species might re-emerge from the desert. The lone man and his sun-toughened wife who cling to the shade in an unfruitful and uncovered place… might well be the last hope of life against non-life.

This Lent, may we trust enough in God’s providence to believe that the desert will eventually bloom again!