by Judy Stack
Do you ever feel like something’s missing?
We’ve just finished the Christmas season where we are often asked (sometimes repeatedly by family members) “What’s on your Christmas list?” In some ways, the holiday gifting traditions we’ve inherited push us to focus for several weeks on what we wish we had that we don’t. What do we really want? And will we get it?
And we are at the beginning of a new year, a time when we often take stock of our lives and try to figure out what we are missing. What is it we need to do or have in our lives to bring us closer to the kind of life we want? Whether it’s greater health or more peace or better relationships or a deepened connection to God, we are again pushed to focus on what we lack and how we can make a plan to fill that hole in our lives.
One Sunday last October, we had as our gospel reading a story that is called variously “The Rich Ruler” or “Rich Young Man.” It’s the story of a man who has much but still feels something is missing, and he comes to Jesus trying to figure out what it is. We heard Mark’s version of the story last fall, but it is also in Luke’s Gospel and in Matthew’s in slightly different forms—and though these versions never come up in our Sunday readings, both are daily lectionary readings in the season of Pentecost.
And it’s a story that is probably familiar to you in some form: a young man comes and asks Jesus what he needs to do to inherit eternal life. He wants to know how to get in on that life that’s really life, the kind of life that people will experience when everything is aligned with God’s will. Jesus gives him a fairly simple answer–so simple it almost sounds like a trick–that he should follow the commandments.
Certainly living our lives in obedience to God’s commandments is a good step toward life that’s really life. But the young man is not satisfied with Jesus’ answer. First he asks which commandments (“I need specifics here, Jesus!”) and after Jesus enumerates some, he says (in Matthew’s version), “I have kept all these [commandments]; what do I still lack?”
“What do I still lack?”
I find it fascinating that in Mark’s version of this story, it is Jesus who mentions a further lack in the man’s life (“You lack one thing…” Mk 10:21), but in Matthew’s version it’s the man who pronounces his lack of fulfillment. I find this version very compelling. He feels something is still missing. He sounds very much like us, I think.
The young man has done all the right things–followed the rules, upheld high standards, chosen good priorities by following the commandments–and yet something is missing. So he is dissatisfied with Jesus’ answer–he’s already done all that commandment following and still feels an emptiness! So he cries, “What still do I lack?”
I feel like this is the cry of so many of our hearts. We’ve done (as best we can) all the stuff we’re supposed to, but something is missing. So we come to the new year with that lingering, persistent question, “What do I still lack?”, trying to find a solid answer. Do I need more self discipline? A better daily routine, more healthy eating and exercise, eliminating stress and cutting back on social media? Maybe, like this young man, we even turn to Jesus for some help, hoping that adding more “spiritual things” will be the answer to our feeling of unfulfillment, our sense of lack. Maybe if we just do more….
But Jesus has a funny answer. In fact a two-part answer that’s rather counter intuitive. (Jesus loves to give unexpected answers. It’s kind of his thing in the Gospels, really.)
First Jesus says, “If you would be complete….” Ah, that’s what we (and and the young man) are searching for, isn’t it? Wholeness. Finding the missing piece. And it may seem like Jesus gives him the answer he’s looking for (though it turns out he doesn’t like it): Jesus says, “Go sell your possessions and give to the poor.” Okay, so what he (and maybe we) are missing is a profound and sacrificial generosity of whatever we have in abundance. That’s certainly something to consider for a new year’s resolution!
But I think there’s something more disruptive in Jesus’ answer. I don’t think Jesus gives him the pat answer we may think this is. Jesus, I think, turns the whole scenario upside down. Because it is the man who feels like he has a lack and that this lack is a problem.
Jesus’ response, however, is essentially, “You don’t lack enough!” The problem isn’t his lack of doing good things, it’s that he’s trying to fill his life with enough good habits and practices that he can overcome his sense of unfulfillment.
“What still do I lack?” Jesus’ rather zen response is “You need more lack.” It is a paradoxical answer–the answer to feeling unfulfilled is to empty yourself. Or maybe more precisely, to quit worrying about it.
The man’s (and our) question is itself the problem. We’re looking for fulfillment, focussing on what we lack, and hoping for a clear, pat solution. The way to the solution is to quit looking for it. The way to fulfillment is to stop looking for ways to fill the gaps in our lives, and instead make peace with our neediness. As always with God’s kingdom, the way up is down. As author and poet John O’Donahue says, “Nothingness is the sister of possibility. It makes an urgent space for that which is new, surprising, and unexpected. When you feel nothingness and emptiness gnawing at your life, there is no need to despair. This is a call from your soul, awakening your life to new possibilities.”
“And then” Jesus says (this is part 2 of the answer), “come and follow me.” Because following Jesus will always be a journey into emptying ourselves (because it is a journey toward the cross) and a journey without clear and simple answers (because it is a journey of faith not surety, and trust and hope not certain knowledge). This is why the Gospel can never be turned into a self-improvement program. What we lack is the self-emptying of discipleship, the following that is never about filling ourselves with the things we’ve decided we lack, but simply being in relationship with Jesus and trusting that that relationship is all we need–whether it feels like it fills our gaps or not.
And this following is why we need each other. This is why we exist as a body, connected with the tissues of time and care and honest relationships. Because we can’t do this alone. Only with each other’s support and encouragement can we release our persistent urge to focus on finding the thing we lack, our compulsion to fill all the empty spaces in our lives with that one thing (whether material or spiritual), looking for the one clear answer…. And instead focus on following Jesus together, moment by moment, loving one another, and trusting God that even our lack is enough. And that is where we find life that is really life. Not in filling our gaps with looking good and searching for perfection but in vulnerably and authentically living with and in our lack, letting the gaps create space for grace–both for us and for others.
