"... I'm just a bit worried that people have written me off as a bit of a freak. The wild man who came in from the desert ranting and raging.
Most of the artists who have painted me over the centuries have shown me out in the desert, surrounded by wild beasts, a hairy bloke, dressed for the wild outdoors. Lots of painters picture me with long, scraggy hair, sticking up in a way that makes me look like a Ken Dodd or a Russell Brand - windswept and out of control.
Mind you, I'm impressed with Caravaggio's paintings. He's got my age about right - I was a young man when I was out in the desert, and he's made me young, strong and supple, and if I may say so, quite attractive looking. In one picture I'm fighting off wild animals barehanded. But while the other artists give me bad hair to make me seem wild, Caravaggio's given me a look on my face which suggests I'm going through some sort of deep inner torment. It's like my mind is alive with massive, monstrous ideas, and that I'm struggling to come to terms with them out there alone in the wilderness. And, to be honest, that's close to the truth.
Because, as the 20th century writer Daniel Berrigan says, the desert is a place of combat and rebirth. I didn't go there to escape. I went there to wrestle with my faith, to give myself totally and completely over to God in thought and prayer, to discover who God wanted me to be. ..."
- from my talk today, A letter from John the Baptiser.
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