Around the fourth and fifth century CE, after Christianity became Rome's official religion, the persecuted suddenly became the persecutors. The minority overnight became an indomitable majority. The purity of the gospel became political propaganda. From a movement known as "the Way," built on the blood of the martyrs, it became Christendom. With that change came hierarchies and subsequent adulteration.
A small contingent of people got disillusioned by now the mainstream religion. As a result, they moved away into the desert. They began to live minimalist lives, totally depending on God for provision. In the desert, they found the perfect combination of communing with God in peace and isolation and fighting their sin. With nothing to distract them, no noise, no interruption, no glamour, they could hear their desires amplified and, simultaneously, God's vision and voice magnified. These people came to be known as Desert Fathers and Mothers.
They had a role model to follow. It was not the first time someone had withdrawn into the extreme temperatures of the desert to be alone, to commune with God.
We see in Mark 1:35-38 that Jesus had long days of ministry. He healed the sick of several sicknesses. He freed people of unclean spirits. Jesus's ministry was peaking. People were coming to him from all over. He was the talk of the town. And you would think this is the time to leverage the popularity to expand the kingdom. Now is the time to press on. Let us sprint now. You and I would do that. We would go steaming in until the favor and fruit were abundant. If our careers or ministry is in full swing, the desert is the last place you and I want to be. Desert means isolation. Silence is all we hear. Solitude forces us to pause, observe, and reflect. With the explosion of global vocational opportunities, technological proliferation, and mass entrepreneurial ventures, the virtue of isolation seeks "the later years of life" or remains irrelevant.
Jesus, after successful, fruitful, rewarding days and weeks of ministry, chooses not to press on, write a blog about it, or kick his feet up and rest but quietly escapes into a deserted place before the break of dawn. He doesn't want to attract attention. He doesn't want to set the trend or turn it into a "religious standard." He knows the importance of solitude with his father, especially amid a busy season. His act of seeking solitude declares his dependence on his father. He acknowledges his need for communion, counsel, and confession before his father. Communion with God becomes the fuel for his ministry, the source of his motivation and encouragement because every fruitful and favorable season ends. Every mountain top experience careens down to the valley. But the encouragement and inspiration received during those seasons can last a while.
A Desert is a place of communion with God. Solitude amplifies everything—God's voice and the inner murmur of our soul. Our deepest desires and fears surface, but the voice of God through his word changes our perspective.
So, I encourage you to seek solitude with God. It shouldn't be a week, weekend, or even twenty-four hours. If you can do that, great. But even a few hours alone where there is no distraction or disturbance, just you and God alone to hear and follow him.