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.