Date: 9 August 2026 | Pre­a­cher:
Series: | Bible text: Isai­ah 35:1ff; Deu­te­ro­no­my 8:2–6
Hint: This ser­mon has been machi­ne trans­la­ted. Plea­se note that we can­not accept any respon­si­bi­li­ty for the accu­ra­cy of the content.

God does not lead peo­p­le into the wil­der­ness to punish them, but to shape them. In his «class­room», we learn to trust him and to lis­ten to his voice. Jesus wal­ked this path hims­elf and, through the Cross and the Resur­rec­tion, ope­ned the way back into fel­low­ship with God. He invi­tes us to live today, even in the midst of the desert, as peo­p­le of his garden.


On 27 Janu­ary 1956, Dr Mar­tin Luther King is sit­ting alo­ne in his kit­chen in Mont­go­me­ry in the midd­le of the night. The civil rights move­ment is still in its infan­cy. Death thre­ats have beco­me part of his dai­ly life. He fears for his life and that of his fami­ly. Sleep is out of the ques­ti­on that night. He gets up, makes hims­elf a cup of cof­fee and beg­ins to pray.

He later descri­bed that night as a tur­ning point in his life. He pou­red out his fears, his worries and his sen­se of being over­whel­med to God. And in the midst of the silence, God gave him a deep sen­se of cer­tain­ty: ‘Car­ry on along your path.’ I am with you. His­to­ri­ans see this night as a decisi­ve tur­ning point – not only for Mar­tin Luther King per­so­nal­ly, but also for the civil rights movement.

I some­ti­mes won­der: would he have expe­ri­en­ced that moment of cla­ri­ty if, ins­tead, he’d allo­wed hims­elf to be swept away by the many voices and dis­trac­tions of our time? We don’t know.

But one thing stands out: God often speaks par­ti­cu­lar­ly cle­ar­ly in places whe­re other voices fall silent. Could that per­haps be the reason why God leads peo­p­le into the desert time and again?

Why does God’s classroom exist?

That is exact­ly what we find in the Bible. Time and again, God leads peo­p­le to a quiet place – the desert. When we think of a desert, we think of heat, dry­ness and hard­ship. But God often sees the desert in a com­ple­te­ly dif­fe­rent light. To Him, it is a class­room. Not a place of punish­ment, but a place of learning.

Not a place whe­re God aban­dons peo­p­le, but a place whe­re he pre­pa­res them. But why the desert, of all places? To under­stand this, we must go back to the begin­ning of the Bible.

The Bible beg­ins in a gar­den. The­re, human­kind lives in per­fect com­mu­ni­on with God. This com­mu­ni­ty is built on a simp­le pre­mi­se: that peo­p­le lis­ten to God’s voice and trust it.

Then a second voice is heard. The ser­pent sows mis­trust of God. It pro­mi­ses a life free from depen­dence on the Crea­tor. Man lis­tens to this voice – and loses the Garden.

From that moment on, the Bible tells a gre­at sto­ry: God wants to lead peo­p­le back into fel­low­ship with him. Yet, strikin­gly often, this path leads through the desert.

Moses encoun­ters God the­re. Eli­jah hears God’s gent­le voice the­re. Isra­el lear­ns to trust the­re. And even Jesus beg­ins his public minis­try in the desert. That is no coin­ci­dence. The desert is part of God’s tea­ching method. It is his classroom.

This is most cle­ar­ly seen in the case of the peo­p­le of Isra­el. After the Exodus from Egypt, God could have led his peo­p­le to Cana­an by the shor­test rou­te. Yet God deli­bera­te­ly cho­se the lon­ger rou­te – the rou­te through the desert. Why? A well-known say­ing sums it up per­fect­ly: «Isra­el left Egypt in a sin­gle night. But Egypt was still a long way from lea­ving Isra­el.»Out­ward­ly, they were free. Inward­ly, they still thought like slaves. That is why God did not lead them straight to the Pro­mi­sed Land. He led them first into his class­room.’. For God wan­ted to give his peo­p­le not just a new land, but a new heart.

And that is exact­ly what we learn in God’s class­room. God leads us into the wil­der­ness becau­se he wants not only to chan­ge our lives, but also to renew our hearts. God uses the desert to shape peo­p­le who trust in Him and lis­ten to His voice.

What do you learn in God’s classroom?

The ans­wer is sur­pri­sin­gly simp­le: trust. That was pre­cis­e­ly what Isra­el was lack­ing. They had expe­ri­en­ced God’s power. They had seen the sea part. They had expe­ri­en­ced God deli­ve­ring them from slavery. But trust does not grow from a sin­gle mira­cle. Trust grows as we jour­ney tog­e­ther.

That is why God gave His peo­p­le man­na every mor­ning. Not for a week. Not for a month. Just for one day at a time. Why? Not becau­se God was stin­gy. But becau­se trust does not grow from reser­ves, but from day-to-day depen­dence. Every mor­ning began with the same les­son: «I’ll look after you today.»Not tomor­row. Not next week. Today. And so the desert beca­me God’s classroom.’.

In God’s class­room, the­re was a second sub­ject on the time­ta­ble. The first sub­ject was cal­led ‘Trust’. The second sub­ject was cal­led ‘Lis­tening’. It is inte­res­t­ing that the Hebrew word for ‘desert’ mid­bar is. It is remi­nis­cent of the word dabar, which means «word» or «speech». Even though lin­gu­ists deba­te whe­ther the­re is a direct con­nec­tion, this idea cap­tures a pro­found spi­ri­tu­al truth: in the desert, other voices fade away – and God’s voice beco­mes audi­ble. Per­haps that is pre­cis­e­ly the desert’s grea­test gift.

Moses encoun­ters God at the bur­ning bush. Eli­jah does not hear him in the storm, nor in the ear­th­qua­ke, nor in the fire, but in the gent­le whisper. Time and again, the Bible shows that: God meets peo­p­le whe­re they find still­ness.

And that is pre­cis­e­ly whe­re a major chall­enge of our time lies. We live in a world full of voices. News. Pod­casts. Vide­os. Social media. No soo­ner does silence fall than we fill it again. Per­haps God has never stop­ped spea­king. Per­haps we have sim­ply for­got­ten how to lis­ten. The desert is the­r­e­fo­re far more than a place of depri­va­ti­on. It is a place of encoun­ter. A place whe­re God rea­ligns our hearts to his voice. In God’s class­room, we learn to lis­ten to his voice and trust him.

The cru­cial ques­ti­on now is: Do we have to wait until God leads us into a desert? Or can we also con­scious­ly seek out God’s class­room? This is pre­cis­e­ly the ques­ti­on to which Jesus gives a sur­pri­sing answer.

Why does Jesus keep returning to God’s classroom?

So far, we have seen that Isra­el had to be led into its class­room by God. Jesus, on the other hand, went in of his own accord.

Luke reports that more and more peo­p­le were coming to Jesus. They wan­ted to hear him speak and be hea­led. His minis­try was con­stant­ly expan­ding. In fact, Jesus would have had to make use of every spa­re minu­te. Yet Luke wri­tes: «Howe­ver, Jesus repea­ted­ly with­drew into the desert to pray» (Luke 5:16 NLB).

The grea­ter the demands beca­me, the more ear­nest­ly Jesus sought fel­low­ship with his Father. He knew: Anyo­ne who wis­hes to give much to others must first recei­ve from the Father themselves.

This is pre­cis­e­ly whe­re one of the grea­test chal­lenges of our time lies. We live in a world full of voices. No soo­ner does silence fall than we fill it again. That is why every Chris­ti­an needs a quiet place. Not neces­s­a­ri­ly a desert of sand and stones, but a place whe­re the other voices fall silent and God’s voice is given space once more. The­re are deserts we do not choo­se – ill­ness, loss or dis­ap­point­ment. But the­re is also the desert that we can con­scious­ly choo­se: a place of silence and pray­er. Trust in God and lis­tening to Him often begin right there.

The­re is one thing we must never for­get: the desert is not God’s desti­na­ti­on. It is God’s class­room. Every class­room has a pur­po­se. No tea­cher wants their pupils to stay in the class­room fore­ver. It is the same with God. His desti­na­ti­on is not the desert, but God’s eter­nal gar­den city. That is why Isai­ah alre­a­dy looks out across the desert and cries out: «The desert and the par­ched land shall rejoice, and the wil­der­ness shall exult and blos­som like a field of cro­cu­ses. The­re, flowers will grow in abun­dance, and it will sing, shout for joy and rejoice!» (Isai­ah 35:1ff NLB).

The Bible beg­ins in a gar­den. It leads through the desert. And it ends with a new crea­ti­on – a city in which the Gar­den of Eden flou­ris­hes once more. The­re, the river of life flows once more. The­re, the tree of life stands once more. The­re, God dwells with his peo­p­le for ever. Ever sin­ce Eden, the path back to this per­fect fel­low­ship had been clo­sed off. That is why Jesus went that way Hims­elf. He trus­ted His Father com­ple­te­ly. He wal­ked through the deepest wil­der­ness – right to the cross. Through His resur­rec­tion, He ope­ned the way back into fel­low­ship with God.

We have not yet rea­ched our desti­na­ti­on. In many ways, we are like the peo­p­le of Isra­el on their jour­ney through the desert. Yet we are not tra­vel­ling this path alo­ne. Jesus walks with us. He does not always give us ever­y­thing we wish for, but he does give us ever­y­thing we tru­ly need. As he pre­pa­res us for the new crea­ti­on, he invi­tes us to trust him, to lis­ten to his voice and to fol­low him. For God uses the desert to shape peo­p­le who trust in him and lis­ten to his voice. Jesus did not mere­ly show us this path – he led the way himself.

The theo­lo­gi­an Karl Rah­ner once said: «The devout per­son of tomor­row will be a mys­tic, someone who has expe­ri­en­ced some­thing, or they will cea­se to exist.»By «mys­tic», Rah­ner does not mean someone with extra­or­di­na­ry visi­ons. He means someone who knows God per­so­nal­ly becau­se they have encoun­te­red Him. I belie­ve that is pre­cis­e­ly what we learn in God’s class­room. God does not seek, first and fore­most, peo­p­le who know as much as pos­si­ble about Him. He seeks peo­p­le who know Him becau­se they spend time with Him. Peo­p­le who hear His voice. Peo­p­le who trust Him. Peo­p­le who live out of His pre­sence. And that is pre­cis­e­ly what it means to be a Chris­ti­an disci­ple: To live like the peo­p­le of God’s Gar­den City, even today, in the midd­le of the desert.

Peo­p­le who trust their Father. Peo­p­le who lis­ten to his voice. Peo­p­le who, in the midst of a noi­sy world, live out of his pre­sence. God’s class­room has a pur­po­se – not the desert, but per­fect fel­low­ship with him.

 

Possible questions for the small group

Read the Bible pas­sa­ge: Deu­te­ro­no­my 8:2–6

  1. Whe­re are you curr­ent­ly expe­ri­en­cing a «desert» in your life? What is chal­len­ging you at the moment – and how might God be using this very situa­ti­on to deepen your trust?
  2. Which «voices» have the grea­test influence on your ever­y­day life? What helps you to hear God’s voice, and what dis­tracts you from it?
  3. Jesus would often with­draw to a quiet place. What does your own «place of tran­quil­li­ty» look like? What have been your expe­ri­en­ces of it?
  4. The ser­mon sta­ted: «God uses the desert to shape peo­p­le who trust in him and lis­ten to his voice.» Which of the­se two things do you find easier – trus­ting in God or lis­tening to his voice? Why?
  5. What spe­ci­fic habit would you like to try out over the next few days to con­scious­ly spend time in «God’s class­room»? How can the group encou­ra­ge you in this, or ask you about it next week?