This morning with characteristic humility, John the Baptist sends two of his own disciples over to Jesus. Jesus notices them following and turns to them. And this glance in their direction will change everything, this turning of the blessed face of Jesus’ toward those who long to know him better. God in Christ allows them to see his face, not just his back as when he passed by Moses. They see God's face; they hear his question, “What are you looking for?” This most haunting question: What do you want? What is your deepest desire? What are you looking for? And it is clear that the “what” is soon to become a “who.” Who are you looking for? Who is at the heart of all your desiring? Jesus senses their curiosity, the first inklings of their desire. And he turns around and invites them to his house for the evening, for food and first conversations; they will come to know him. A relationship has begun. Never ever indifferent to our least move in his direction, Jesus continually looks over his shoulder at us and invites us, “Come and you will see.” Come closer and see for yourselves whom you desire; experience for yourself who I am, who I want to be for you.
Jesus’ question this morning is like that small persistent voice that keeps waking up little Samuel as he sleeps near the Ark of the Lord. Like the psalmist this morning, like little Samuel, like the disciples we may respond, “Here am I Lord. Speak. I am listening.” We want to follow. We become disciples. We put everything else aside. We have lost ourselves, but we find our truest selves. Then like Bernard of Fontaines, like Ignatius Loyola and Francis in Assisi we lay down all the trappings and encumbrances of our former ways of proceeding- the sword, the shield, the lovely clothes, the blind ambition, the other sweet relationships. Jesus is worth my all. Somehow everything else has turned stale and unsatisfying in the long term. We sense it. We are ready, and yet we are amazed. The admission of the deepest desire realigns our hearts. A new meaning draws us to a Person, who is worth all our desiring, one who cannot, who will not stop calling after us.