Whom are you looking for?

We are reminded that Jesus asks this question when Judas has betrayed him and then arrived with the soldiers.  Jesus already knew well who they were looking for.  This scene reminded me of the famous Shakesperean quote:  "Et tu, Brute?"  Funny how if we shine a spotlight on the situation, Jesus was not as much concerned with the impending arrest, but more with the betrayal by a friend.  He was concerned enough to have the moment of confrontation, gentle and fleeting as it was. I think Jesus' question to Judas probably made Judas think; it was an instant piercing realization that Judas had sold out a friend, his "Lord" for 30 pieces of silver.  We love to criminalize Judas and yet we have all played the part.

Whom am I looking for?  Rather, what am I looking for.  I can hear Bono's chorus to his famous gospel tune, "I still haven't found what I'm looking for."  It is easier to seek a what than a whom.  I can seek approval, popularity, acceptance, conformity, wealth, success, etc.  The world is geared for the onward chase of things.  But, what does it mean for me to seek a Whom?  My Beloved?  The Divine?

In the past, in my youth, I looked for mentors, people I could admire and maybe emulate.  Young people are geared toward having idols: rock stars, sports figures, etc.  I don't think we realize how we idolize others until we are older.  In youth we easily look past any one person's failures, their less than qualities.  But, as we get older, we can see them more clearly just as we can see our own wrinkles sprouting on our spiritual and physical complexions.

 
People can disappoint and delight us.  People are a mixed bag of saint and sinner at any given moment.  There is no one really able to sit atop a pedestal and remain there for long especially in the religious sphere.

If one is to find God in the religious sphere, then the looking can take place amidst some confusion.  Is God there only?  Certainly not.  Can it be hard to find God there?  Absolutely.  Is it worth the sorting, the daily commitment to community, the surrender to growth on a less than horizontal horizon? A question only you can answer.  Will it be easy?  No.  Can it be done?  Yes.

In high school we were introduced to John Keats.  I'll never forget his Ode on a Grecian Urn.  While I was not mature enough to digest all of the nuances of abstract thought and poetry, one impression did stick.  We are all captivated by the chase, the chase of someone or something.  What or who that is depends on each of us.  But, the rub seems to be this:  we are happiest while in the chase, never acquiring, only catching glimpses of our Beloved.  When and if we do acquire and possess, we quickly grow bored and faint of heart.  Therefore, can I consent to the presence of the absence of my Beloved?  Can I surrender to this chase and find bliss?  Do I have the perseverance and clarity of mind to run a good race?  I think Keats knew humankind quite well:

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard 

Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; 

Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared,

Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:

Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave

Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;

Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,

Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve;

She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,

Forever wilt thou love, and she be fair!