The Wilderness

The Wilderness
"This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased." To those who watched, they were words of comfort, words that said "I’m here my children, I’ll make you safe. The exile and exodus will really be over."
But to the Man the celestial bird that rested on him was like a hot coal upon his skin; he coal that anointed the lips of the prophet was upon him fully. It led him like that pillar. The blasting wind/breath/spirit descended, draining into his ears, swirling into his mind, blasting down upon him. It led, no it chased/pushed/tugged/took, the Man to the wilderness.
Out there all the questions implied with the spirit’s amplified affirmation of every experience he had previous to that moment, that Baptizing like the kings of old, that anointing and calling, rumbled up inside him. "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased."
He hid his face in brambles, remembering Absalom caught upon a tree. He clenched his teeth upon a branch, trying not to think of food. "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased," rangs clearly in his head.
How do you prepare to live into such words? For forty days he sat there, birds and other animals his only company. His stomach groaned. The words "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased," came more and more urgently to him.
Then came the form. A handsome form, to be sure. Beckoning to him, offering him some Matza. It looked good, so good the words of the Spirit, which glistened and blazed upon his body lost some of their luster. Only briefly though, for what is the mouth of man compared to what is issued from the mouth of God? "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased."
The world around the Man seemed to change; he was above the city, which permeated his dreams and his nightmares. The urge was there, to jump, to show them all self evident truth crashing inside him crying to be let out. But was it not God’s to reveal or withhold that, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased."
High still they climbed, these two, passed Olympus, passed Sinai, passed that holy mount where he would be transfigured, until they had arrived, high above it all. It could all be his. An act of worship up here. A simple act of worship that was the only price. A high price. Too high a price, a son ultimately serves his father. "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased."
The birds and other animals came, found him there. Like angels they were, singing, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased."