Field Notes for the Wilderness | Practices for an Evolving Faith by Sarah Bessey
I have loved and followed Sarah Bessey for many years. I highly recommend all her books, and her Substack newsletter, too. The other day someone on one of the “socials” complained that all the “exvangelists” (people who grew up in and left the Evangelical church) seem to all have the same story, which included a hatred and condemnation of evangelism. I recommended they try reading Sarah Bessey’s writing. Sarah grew up in the world now referred to as evangelical—she was a winner of awards for being the fastest at finding verses in the Bible, an earnest believer of the literal interpretation of the Bible, the prosperity gospel, and so on. Her faith has evolved to leave behind much she grew up in, but she does not revile her heritage. She truly loves the community of faith she was raised in, and recognizes the great good she received from it. Sarah was one of Rachel Held-Evans’ best friends. They started the movement called Evolving Faith together.
The “wilderness” in Field Notes for the Wilderness is the word Bessey and others use to describe the place they find themselves in after leaving the churches they grew up in that seemed not to allow questions or doubts. Bessey writes:
If the city is a metaphor for certainty and belonging, then the wilderness is for our questions and our truth. (p. 3, Field Notes for the Wilderness, Pengin Random House LLC, 2024)
and
This book is my own hopeful offering of what has served me in the wilderness, the practices and postures I have found to be good companions when danger feels close and losses have accumulated and loneliness a constant. The tools you actually need or eventually use might be different… (p. 4)
She makes it clear that she is trying to “steer clear of prescriptive advice and how-to manuals or instructions.” (p. 5)
This book is like a collection of personal letters from Sarah Bessey—friend to friend. She writes heart-to-heart words and small stories about her own life and family. I find it easy to read and relevant—maybe a better word is sympathetic—to my own experiences and thoughts. The format of the book is that each chapter is a letter to the reader, addressing different aspects of living and traveling through the wilderness. She begins and ends each chapter hinting at the various aspects she’ll be talking about: “Dear Wanderer…I’m glad you’re here, S”; “Dear Growing…You can love who you are becoming, S”; “Dear Heartsick….Even still, S”; “Dear Heart-broken…You’re allowed to be sad, S”; and so on. This format makes the book a good “pick-up-and-put-downable-book,” the way you might read one letter in a sitting, then another later.
I underlined a lot in this book so it’s hard to include just a few quotes. There’s one under the heading “We had hoped.” I’ve been kind of fascinated with that phrase lately. It comes from the gospel story usually referred to as the road to Emmaus. After Jesus’ resurrection, before his ascension, two disciples were walking to the village named Emmaus and a third man joined them, asking what they were talking about. They explained they were talking about Jesus who died and who they had hoped was the Messiah. “We had hoped…” Such sad words, it seems to me. Bessey comments that in the wilderness, we often experience grief and anger, “but there is also disappointment, there is our thwarted hope.” (p. 87) She writes about that disappointment being part of reality:
We had hoped that the people who introduced us to Jesus wouldn’t be deceived by Christian nationalism or conspiracy stories.
We had hoped our marriages would survive.
We had hoped our friendships would last even as we changed.
We had hoped that if we raised our kids a certain way we could guarantee a particular outcome. (p. 68)
She goes on with many thwarted hopes. I have been thinking about how so many of us (maybe all?) are not living the life we dreamt of in childhood. So many of us thought we would live a happy life, a fulfilled life, a job we loved, a home, children, a happy marriage, a life full of travel and adventures, and on and on. We had hoped… Bessey quotes Jason Upton, “The two fools on the road to Emmaus / They might as well be you and me.” (page 69)
In the gospel story, when the stranger breaks bread with them in their home, the disciples realize that they had been walking, talking, and eating with Jesus. Bessey encourages us to hang onto that hope. “We’re still walking toward Emmaus. Our hope is with us. And soon, our eyes will be opened to who was walking us home all along.” (page 72)
In another part, Bessey talks about how we are included in the miracles. When he raises his friend Lazarus from the dead, he tells Lazarus’ sisters to take off the graveclothes; in the feeding of the 5,000 it is the disciples who distribute the loaves and fishes; and even in Jesus’ ascension, “he invites us to continually participate in this new life by saying, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations…’” This exploration of Jesus inviting us to participate in the miracles and in his ministry reminded me of the book Art + Faith by Makoto Fujimura, where he writes a lot about how we are co-creators with God. It also reminded me of a story a young mother told me (I wrote about it here). Going to bed on the Saturday night before his first time taking communion, he told his mom, brimming with excitement, “I’m invited!” What a joyous gift we have, to be invited to belong and even be co-creators with God as we work to build the Kingdom here and now on earth.
Bessey also reminds us that as we “wander in the wilderness,” remember to think of and imagine what you are for. Often, we begin our journey because we realize we are against certain beliefs we grew up with. We may leave our childhood church because we find we cannot agree anymore with some of the doctrines or ways of living that those churches stand for. Bessey wrote that it took a long time for her “to be quiet enough to hear the Spirit whispering, ‘So. This is nice. Now where are we going?’” (page 170) She says, “Don’t forget to dream of what could be possible.” (page 171). A few years ago our church went through a program called Crossroads, where we tried to honestly face the question of whether we were viable and should continue or not. I read then, too, about imagining what we could be rather than focusing only on what we could not do, or really what we could not do anymore. I wrote a little story imagining what someone might see as they walked up to the church if we had been able to offer classes and space on spiritual practices, rent our buildings to other entities, showcase different kinds of art, and other things like that. Most of those things have not come to pass, but it’s a good idea to imagine the possible future we’d like to see, not just look back and mourn the many things we used to be and cannot be anymore.
I could go on and on with examples of topics and stories from Field Notes for the Wilderness. I hope you will read this book of letters from Sarah Bessey. She will remind you of God’s love for you, and encourage you in your journey.