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At the most intimate core of the human soul churns an unsettled, yearning, burning sea of...incompleteness. It's a longing or desire for something more that is never quite quenched by anything that life on this earth can fulfill.

This "more" is not easily identified, but is most often mistaken for some kind of temporal gratification -- almost always under the form of power, money or some sensual experience, often sexual.

The focus might be on a particular position, career or sphere of influence. It might be a certain lifestyle, characterized by a particular place or level to live at or a certain kind of home, car or portfolio of options. It could even be a particular person: "If I only 'had' him or her, or had him or her more completely, everything would be OK."

People who have experienced 12-step addiction-recovery programs often understand this longing very well. They know the years of accumulated humiliation that have built up over an uncontrollable desire for a particular substance, be it food, drugs, sex or some form of gambling.

Hoping against hope for the ultimate "fix," being painfully reminded at each acquisition that enough is never enough, the bruising wounds to the sense of self-esteem always become unbearable, unless the addicts resort to some form of defensive denial.

How each person experiences this inner unrest depends much upon the particular circumstances of our lives. We may not even be aware it is there if we are involved in a very busy routine of work, recreation, consumption or some combination thereof. Sudden and unexpected events -- an accident, an illness, a natural disaster or a tanking stock market, for instance -- might stop us in our tracks and provoke the kind of "heads-up" that forces us to look inward.

The restless silence of just having to wait or sit still outside an emergency room, alone in a room during a retreat or even in bed (with no earphones on) at four o'clock in the morning -- and time just to be alone with our own soul and conscience -- can allow that inner voice a chance to whisper, speak or sometimes scream.

Whatever the voice may say, it may reveal the vestiges of old wounds, memories, hurts and regrets. Often, these "living scars" are the dark currents from which, often unexpectedly, moments of rage and impulsive choices suddenly leap out like those solar storms of which scientists keep warning us.

"Where did that come from?" we or those around us might wonder. What is that deep-seated ache or brokenness that has no specific name, but is real and cannot be ignored?

"Our hearts are restless until they rest in you," St. Augustine cries out in the discovery that all his life -- looking for love in all the wrong places -- he has been searching for God in all of God's creatures, but did not know it.

The tendency of fallen human nature is to confuse created objects for the Creator, to mistakenly attempt to satisfy our sin-sick souls with what is passing and temporal, to try to quiet our hungry hearts by indulging ourselves with remedies that can only partly deaden the pain, but not heal the hurt.

Jesus wants nothing more than to heal us, deeply and permanently. He wants to make us whole. We have been listening to how He expresses His own desire to feed us over the last few weeks (in chapter six of the Gospel of John) as He announces that He is our "bread of life."

He literally gives us Himself as the very sustenance of our inner life, the center of our hearts and souls, to be the ground upon which He will build an eternity for us. No one and nothing else can do this. We will fail, languish and die without Him.

Many of His listeners walked away. It was too much to take -- or, more likely, too much to give. Actually, Jesus is offering us Himself as our gift of life; but to have Him, we have to let go of -- give up -- the idol or false god we are clinging to.

What is that idol? It's whatever is usurping the rightful place of Jesus as the Lord of our hearts. That could be anything we have empowered: any person, place or thing that we have set up as our "savior," who is not Him. Are we willing to give that up?

To put it personally, am I willing to let go of that person or that kind of relationship that is doing neither of us any good? Am I willing to let go of that grudge, that gripe, that gossip which gives me a certain sense of power, but also ends up making me its prisoner? Will I let go of that habit, that website, that attitude which robs my freedom and free time and leaves we feeling down and depressed all the time?

Jesus can do anything -- if I will let Him be my Savior. It may sound strange to say that we need to give Him permission to be who He really is, but that is the only way love works. It has to be mutual and it cannot be forced.

Jesus will go "all the way" with each and every one of us, but it takes our human will to consent to this very special relationship. It is the only love relationship which will give us eternal happiness and eternal life --- and, deep down, that is what we are made for. As St. Augustine puts it, "we are made for Love."

(Follow the Bishop at www.facebook.com/AlbanyBishopEd and on Twitter @AlbBishopEd.)[[In-content Ad]]

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