This fall our Bible study group is starting an inductive, verse-by-verse study of the Gospel of John. We’re only to Chapter 2, and already it has been so drenched with truth and application that I can hardly keep up.
Last night we were discussing how Jesus began gathering his disciples. John the Baptist had his own disciples, and he told them that Jesus was the long-awaited Messiah, the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” (Jn. 1:29). John urged his closest disciples, one of them being Andrew, to follow after Jesus.
John had baptized many with a baptism of repentance, to prepare them for the coming kingdom, as prophesied in Isaiah. He was the voice in the wilderness crying, “Make straight the way of the Lord” (Is. 40:3, Jn. 1:23).
While baptizing Jesus, John witnessed the Holy Spirit descending upon Jesus like a dove, just as the Lord had told him it would happen. This sign told John that his ministry had been fulfilled. He had proof that the Messiah had come. Now, John would decrease in influence, while Jesus would increase.
When Andrew and another unnamed disciple of John started following Jesus, Jesus noticed, turned, and said,
“What are you seeking?”
This is Jesus’ first recorded utterance in the Bible.
Isn’t that an interesting way to initiate a relationship? He didn’t ask who they were seeking, or why they were following him. No small talk. No intake process. Just…what are you seeking?
Angie, our facilitator, paused there to ask that question of the group. What were you seeking when you first encountered Jesus?
A few people spoke up. One said her life was a mess and she was seeking help and change. One said that she was saved and baptized so young she doesn’t remember consciously seeking him. Others indicated that they were seeking meaning and truth and it ultimately led to Jesus.
As for me, the answer I gave without thinking was, “I don’t think I knew what I was seeking. I just knew that I needed to seek.” As the group moved on to the next portion of the text, the Holy Spirit dropped onto my heart the words, “You were seeking the sacred.”
Upon further reflection, both my impulsive answer, and the revelation that followed both ring true in my soul. I had always been a seeker of knowledge, understanding, adventure, new experiences, creativity, and growth.
As a lost young musician and college student in New York, I hungered for the sacred. I wanted to experience the divine and transcendent and was determined to seek it. I realize that my life is as it is today because I’ve never stopped seeking.
I recall my first experiences of sacred beauty in a religious context before I had any knowledge of the gospel or the Scriptures. I started attending Riverside Church, a massive Neo-Gothic structure in Upper Manhattan with a 390-foot tower overlooking Morningside Heights and the Hudson River.
For an unchurched, uninitiated uninformed seeker, Riverside Church, inside and outside, made quite an impression. The architecture was weighty yet lofty, and strikingly beautiful. It was humbling and inspiring just to sit in that place. If you’ve ever visited a great cathedral, you’ll know what I mean.
The worship that happened in that place was impressive also, with a booming pipe organ and a hundred-voice choir dressed in red robes. Each Sunday they would make their procession down the aisle and take their places. There was a holy hush as the pastor rose to the high platform.
Now I know that these things are not in themselves sacred unless Jesus anoints them and calls them sacred. But attending this church for a season invited me to learn what and who is sacred, ideas my soul longed to understand and experience.
Jesus taught his disciples,
“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.” (Matt. 7:7-8).
As I learned more about what it means to join my life with Christ’s life, I meditated upon this promise.
What was I seeking? Where should I knock? Who should I ask, and for what?
I discovered that to seek the sacred was to seek Jesus himself, the whole Jesus, in every context, for every answer, always to keep him at the center of my devotion. To knock at the door of his kingdom where his righteousness dwells. To ask for the gift of the Holy Spirit that the Father promised to give. To ask this Jesus to be my Lord, Savior, and friend forever.
I also learned what not to seek…not my own aggrandizement, power, wealth, or fame. To steer clear of idols—anything I am tempted to love more than I love the Lord. And, while it is permitted to pray for signs or miracles, I must never be like the faithless who demanded signs from Jesus instead of simply believing the truth he preached. These are things I must be vigilant about still.
I discerned that seeking a holy God would involve more than thoughts, desires, or participation in dramatic worship services in a grand building.
I needed to seek God through his word and in all humility become one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth. (2 Tim. 2:15). No one can become a mature seeker without the word of God.
As I sought, I found. And I still do, every day. The word taught me, and brought me light. It still does, every day.
You see, the seeker remains a seeker forever. The what, the how, and the why of being a seeker continually deepens and expands. As we learn, grow, and serve, the work of faith is added to the mere experience of faith.
I believe Andrew and his friend arrived at this same place and conclusion. They were followers, and we are followers. They were seekers and we are seekers. They became servants as we become servants. And in God’s mysterious alchemy, we become sacred.
We do find and will continue to find priceless, sacred life as we honor our covenant with Jesus Christ. Then, one day we will find ourselves amongst the great throng, with saints from every tribe tongue, and nation, worshipping and celebrating in our heavenly home.
What are we seeking? In the end, we are seeking a home with God and his family.
