On a cross country trip many years ago my brother and I drove through the desert somewhere in the southwestern United States during the month of August. After driving for some time in the desert we stopped, got out of the car and looked around. It was hot…really hot. It was bright…no clouds to shield the burning sun and nothing to create shade except the care and our bodies. There were no smells in the air. There were no sounds in the air. The cold bottles of Aquafina in the cooler seemed to be the only water around as far as we could see. It was, or it seemed to be, a barren wasteland. We drove off, disappointed that the desert didn’t offer more. I’m not sure what we were expecting but whatever it was the desert didn’t meet our expectations. The desert appeared to be a vast, barren, and uncomfortable wasteland not worthy of our time.
Years later I ran across an article in National Geographic Magazine entitled “Songs of the Sonoran” which is a desert in the southwestern United States. The article began, “A desert can fool the eye. A sun-blasted plain of death turns suddenly into a landscape of sound, water and life.” It wasn’t until I read the article that I realized that I had not experienced the realities of the desert and all that it had to offer on our cross-country trip. Continue reading “Deacon Greg Maskarinec’s Homily for the First Sunday of Lent”