Twenty-eighth Sunday of Ordinary Time: What My Heart Desires

What must I do to inherit eternal life?” One of the few things we know about the man who asked this is that he was materially wealthy, he had a lot of stuff. But we also know about him is that he wanted something more than his possessions, prompting him to ask Jesus how to attain it: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

I believe this question speaks to something at work in the hearts of most all of us: that we long for something more, regardless of what we already have. There remains some unmet need. For some of us, it’s the constant pursuit of things we can buy, that maybe provide momentary fulfillment, until we realize it’s not enough. The pursuit goes on and on because none of it ultimately satisfies.

For others of us, it’s not material things, it’s some sort of affirmation and acceptance—usually from others, but often times also from ourselves. I believe that’s at least part of what’s at work in the current challenging discussions around racial equity, gender equity, and gender dysphoria.

I believe that this need for affirmation and acceptance is also at least part of what impels so many people to exert so much energy in seeking attention through platforms like Twitter, Tik-Tok and the rest. But no matter how loud we yell and command attention, and whatever affirmation we receive, it’s never enough to satisfy our hearts.

In his dialogue with Jesus, the man in the Gospel made it clear that he dutifully followed all that Jewish Law required. Shouldn’t that be enough? Why do I still want more? But then we’re given a curious detail: we’re told that Jesus looked at him and loved him. In my prayers, I’ve tried to imagine that, but I interpret it to tell us that Jesus could see through him, and into his heart. He could see what was keeping the man from being fully alive. Despite what he saw in the man, in his love for the man, he wanted to help him to move toward what his heart truly desired.

We all know people who regard any idea of Jesus being the answer to their problems is laughable. Seriously? Some Jewish guy from 2000 years ago is going to make my life better? Stop wasting my time. And yet, I can’t get past the fact that most of the people I know who manage to find persisting peace and joy are those who eventually were able to make him the center of their lives. When they did, the other endless pursuits stopped preoccupying them.

The love of the Father that flows through Jesus, as revealed in how he looked at the man—the fact that we can’t quite figure it out or learn how to receive that love, is at the root of so much of our unmet need and desires. It’s a hard thing to entirely understand, but I know there is wisdom in it.

When the man asked, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”, Jesus’ answer would have sounded something like, ”Alright: go and put all your stuff on eBay. After you sell it, give what you earn to the poor….then you’ll find what you’re seeking.”  That clearly wasn’t the answer the man was hoping for. In sadness, he simply went away. It’s worth noting that Jesus let him go. Ultimately, he lets us make the decision about whether we’re willing to move forward.

In the Gospel, the question was: What must I do to inherit eternal life? I think what drives that question is exactly what’s at work in the question: What must I do to attain what my heart truly longs for? I suspect that if each of us were to go to Jesus with that question, we’d probably find that what it demands is different for each of us.

We would benefit asking it, from time to time, just as we also would do well to honestly evaluate what we’ve been pursuing, what has come from it, and whether we’re truly satisfied. Sorting through this takes humility and trust. And in asking, we must be prepared to listen and to take some time with it—give God some space to respond.

And maybe, like the man in the Gospel, be prepared to be initially disheartened, because it will likely demand that you detach from something you don’t want to or take-on something you aren’t eager to. It may mean you need to let go of a fight that’s got nothing to do with what your heart most desires.

Again, we’re told that Jesus looked at him with love as he spoke. It seems that while the man heard the difficult answer, he never actually saw Jesus’ face and the Father’s love that shone through it. I can’t help believing that if he had, he might have accepted the difficult answer. It’s similar for us, I believe. The love that would strengthen and guide us gets lost on us.

In the quiet space of prayer, I believe God would say to you: I see you for who you really are, even if you and others in your life can’t see it. I love you, even if you can’t accept it or feel it, and I will never stop. Whatever distorted view of yourself, whatever shame or regret you bear, I want you to know that I delighted in you when I created you. I still do. I will give everything for you, including opening my arms on the cross, because you are that precious to me. Know this….then come, follow me."