It’s 2:30 a.m. in the Mojave Desert, only a few miles from Joshua Tree National Park. At 800,000 acres, the park is larger than the state of Rhode Island. The current temperature is 43 degrees Fahrenheit. Given that we are only two weeks away from the winter solstice, the daytime temperature will be a mild 75 degrees Fahrenheit; though in August, daytime temperatures can and do climb forty degrees above that.
The night has largely fallen silent, though you might still hear the gentle breeze stirring the clumps of dried Bristle Bush. You might also hear the rustling of a pocket gopher trying to repair the partly collapsed entrance to its burrow or the muffled swish of wings from a screech owl as it seeks out the gopher.
The gopher, the owl, and a complement of lizards and rattlesnakes all call the desert home. These animals are suited for the harsh, dry environment of the desert. Humans are not; however, those who dare to trespass in the desert may pay for this intrusion with their lives. This is a story about those who do, believing they are being called—summoned for some spiritual epiphany, what some would call a vision quest.
Vision quests among indigenous Americans
North American Indigenous people probably spring to mind when you hear the term. Then again, the term is broad enough that one might convincingly state that the forty days and nights that Jesus spent in the wilderness (Matthew chapter 4) at the start of his ministry was a sort of vision quest as well. A vision quest is nothing more than a period of introspection and, hopefully, communication with the Great Spirit or a tribal god. Some tribes also allow the use of consciousness-expanding drugs. This is facilitated through fasting and prayer in some isolated location for a designated period (four days and nights were a common requirement). It was a rite of passage and initiation into the tribal community and young women had their vision quest the same as yong men. During a vision quest, an initiate might be introduced to spirit guides, most generally an animal, with whom they would communicate when the person’s life reached certain stages or when counsel was urgently required.
Ironically, while various cultures around the world practiced this ceremonial and highly solemn undertaking, the earliest anthropological artifacts are found right here in the Mojave Desert. These artifacts might include quartz offerings to their gods, petrooglyphs, or rock and wooden structures perched at the top of a cliff. To make these, the initiate would scratch, chisel or carve the design through the “desert varnish” or dark covering on the stones, creating designs that were often lighter than the surrounding rock face. Limited coloring could be produced using certain minerals that might be available. The glyphs might represent dreams or visions or more mundane events from their lives.
An unforgettable account
When I was only several months old in the faith, I read a few sentences of an announcement in a magazine. Maybe it was Christianity Today? It simply said that a young man (early twenties) had gone out to the desert near Joshua Tree to fast and pray to God, and that rescuers had found his body weeks later. This young man believed that God was summoning him to a closer life (though not the next life).
I wondered whether the young man had a vision or a dream. Or did some stranger walk up to him and tell him he had a message from God? That he should drive east on Hwy 62, and when he arrived at the park, look for a sign. A sign? A road sign? A cross in the sky? A feathered serpent? Or did God indeed summon him to his death? Is that what God does?
At that point in my walk of faith, I wondered what He might have in store for me.
A review of the literature suggests that:
The vast majority of people who undertake such practices—whether vision quests, religious fasts, wilderness solos, or monastic retreats—are not mentally ill.
Normal behavior or something else?
That being said, extreme behavior can indeed be an expression of mental illness and this includes religious behavior. A person who attempts a new lifestyle, whether Judaism, Christianity, Islam, etc., will likely face challenges at home or in the workplace, especially if not everyone in their life is on board. However, signs and symptoms of clinical distress (anxiety, depression, fear, trouble coping, withdrawal, insomnia, loss of weight, and intrusive thoughts) are another matter altogether. Scrupulosity is a mental condition similar to OCD, where one feels compelled to do ordinary things in a specific manner. He or she may have thoughts of going to hell if they “drop the ball”. They read a passage from the Torah, the New Testament, or the Koran without comfort or reassurance and then read another passage and then another, far into the night, seeking but never achieving some sense of satisfaction or relief.
These psychiatric issues are discussed and outlined in the current Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM-V TR) Code V62.89, “Religious or Spiritual Problems.”
The vast, open spaces of the desert, which are relatively noise-free, are perfect for reflection and contemplation. In a world with cities where people are stacked like cordwood in buildings many hundreds of feet in the air, and where thousands of colored flashing lights and billboards bombard your senses, the minimalist landscape of a desert provides a welcome contradiction. In the third century AD, a generation of Christian hermits and ascetics fled to the desert wilderness to develop and practice a deep, mystical approach to their faith.
Meanwhile, the quiet, relaxing environment of the desert promotes a reduction in the release of cortisol which then in turn reduces blood pressure and stress on the heart.
On the other hand, if the place a visitor is in is particularly remote and if there is extreme heat or harsh conditions (e.g., dangerous flash flooding, boulders, and rocky outcroppings), a desert can have the reverse effect. Dehydration may cause disorientation, poor judgment, and panic, and these reactions can lead to death. And sometimes the desert is a crime scene.
But what happened to my nameless visitor who I read about so many years ago? He didn’t leave a journal like Alexander Supertramp (Chris McCandless) did. As such, “my” visitor’s mortal remains were buried in a paupers’ field with hundreds of others in a nearby cemetary. More than a few remains are those of migrants crossing the border illegally, but not all fall in this classification.
A cottage industry pops up
Health specialists and authors, including Dr. Andrew Weil (Miraval Arizona Resort & Spa), Kamal J. Kachroo (Kachroo Wellness), and Deepak Chopra of the Chopra Center for Wellbeing, are just a few practitioners who have clinics in or near desert environments to provide restful or contemplative experiences for their patients. Many of them herald the health benefits of these surroundings.
Joshua Tree Inn, Room 8
A number of talented and gifted performers built their homes on the peripheries of the desert. Others visit the desert regularly. One such person was Gram Parsons, a rock musician and composer who was part of the sixties musical group The Byrds as well as other bands. He spent a good deal of time in the desert, staying at the Joshua Tree Inn. Perhaps the desert stimulated his creative abilities. Some say that Parsons was on a search for authenticity and spirituality that he found in the desert. Yet Parsons was not an ordinary tourist seeking solitude.
At the time of his death, he was doing drugs fairly regularly, spending days in the desert but spending nights in clubs drinking alcohol and downing barbiturates. On September 19, 1973, he was in Room 1 at the Inn when he and a girlfriend purchased some liquid morphine from a stranger. His friend was not seriously impaired, but Parsons was, and his girlfriend moved him to Room 8 where she could watch over him. It soon became obvious that he had received a fatal amount of the drug, which had been injected intravenously, and he stopped breathing. Period.
Unfortunately, his desire to be cremated and his ashes scattered across the desert were not observed.
What’s up danger
The desert has its dangers. There are the ever-present scorpions and rattlesnakes that jealously guard their little piece of hell. Then there are Gila monsters, whose venom may not be quite as lethal as the sidewinder’s but is certainly as painful. Your odds of being rescued from this Hades are equal to, if not less than, your chances of being heard when you scream. This is another reason to make family and friends aware of where to
find you if you don’t check in. Ticks, centipedes, wasps, and black widow and brown recluse spiders round out this menagerie, with their bites and stings which, although otherwise harmless, can cause anaphylactic shock in sensitive pilgrims.
Here is a description of a scorpion sting from an unnamed uninitiate to the desert:
I remember hiking one afternoon in the Arizona desert when I felt a sharp pain in my ankle. At first, I thought it was just a thorn or perhaps a sharp rock. But within seconds, a wave of burning pain radiated up my leg, as if I had been jabbed with a hot poker. I looked down and saw a scorpion scurrying away. Panic set in as I realized I had just been stung.
The pain was intense and throbbing, almost debilitating. I might have described it as a bee sting multiplied by five. My ankle began to swell, and there was a tingling sensation that traveled up my leg. I sat down, trying to calm myself, but my heart was racing. I was sweating despite the cool air, and nausea hit me unexpectedly.
I remembered reading that the Arizona bark scorpion is particularly dangerous, so I immediately began to worry about the potential consequences. I tried to stay calm, but I experienced muscle cramps, which added to my discomfort. I applied a cold compress to the area and called my friend, who suggested I seek medical attention just to be safe.
After about an hour, the immediate pain started to subside, but the lingering ache stayed with me for days. Even though I recovered, the fear of another encounter made me much more cautious during my hikes in the future.
Stranger Things
Health gurus, rock musicians, and nameless young men seeking God are not the only ones you might encounter in deserts. According to Jesus in Matthew 12:43 and elsewhere, demons also populate the deserts.
The term for desert back then (ἀνύδρων τόπων for “waterless places”) might refer to places on a map. “Here be demons” the maps might say. It’s not that demons actually enjoy hanging out there to contemplate their future or for health reasons. It’s tormenting to them to some degree because they would prefer gratifying themselves through a person in ways a disembodied personality cannot be satiated. And in a desert, there are just not enough vulnerable victims.
Is someone who stumbles into a desert more likely to encounter unfriendly spirits? It’s theoretically possible I suppose. Who knows what “bedeviled” that poor young man I mentioned as he was drying up and dying in the scorching sun?
The famous Greek explorer Strabo (64 BC – 24 AD) used the phrase “waterless places” found in Matthew and Luke in his work Geography (Book 2, Chapter 5, Section 33) to describe the country of Libya as being “spotted with inhabited places that are surrounded by waterless and desert land.” The Greek historian Herodotus (484 BC – 425 BC) makes multiple references to waterless regions in his Histories, particularly describing Persian military campaigns through waterless deserts. In some shape or form deserts exist on every continent.
As a fundamentalist, I take the Bible, the words of Jesus, the apostles, and the prophets literally, as much as possible. This is because God’s Word was intended—I believe—for ordinary people to enjoy, to guide their lives, and to provide hope, among other things. However, I also understand that Jesus spoke abstractly or metaphorically on occasion, and it is for us to decide whether a passage means one thing, another, or both. Perhaps we come back to what Sigmund Freud once famously said: “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”
But let’s dwell on the metaphorical aspect of a desert for a moment. Could this not be a contrast between mostly dry deserts and fertile, cultivated valleys with luscious fruits, grains, and water in abundance to sustain life, vis-à-vis the hot, parched, and relatively barren landscape of a desert? Or can we agree that the world we live in is far preferable to that of a desert, even with all its harsh beauty? In which of the two worlds would we choose to live? Then again, this metaphor might contrast the world of the spiritual person with that of the non-spiritual, or the Church (at least as it was originally intended and not necessarily as it has become).
Like everything else on the planet, God has given us deserts to enjoy. He has also given us a sense of prudence so that some terrain or another might not deprive us of our lives through some careless neglect. For those visiting a desert, liquids including those with electrolytes are indispensable, as well as light, loose clothing that will capture your perspiration and help you cool. Sun screen, lip balm, a first aid kit and a flash light and compass are also indispensable. Remember that you will likely not be able to get a cell signal. And if you are on a vision quest off your own, you need not even inconvenience yourself or purchase airline tickets to Italy. God is equally available to you from the privacy of your home.
#VisionQuests
