Wanderers
In life, something is always missing, but how we deal with this void and seek what we miss makes all the difference. We are wanderers, sometimes forced to cross deserts: these are the times when our journey becomes more arduous. The fear of failure takes over, and suddenly, we see everything through a lens of negativity and hopelessness.
The Desert
The journey of Israel through the desert is emblematic of the path every human must take. It was a journey of freedom that inevitably had to pass through an experience of loss and simplicity. In the desert, Israel could rely only on God, discovering the true source of life. Similarly, we might face situations where we have nothing left, feeling stripped of everything with no solid ground to stand on. This might be the moment to recognize where life truly comes from.
Lament
Often, as with Israel, this becomes a time of lamentation: we focus on what is missing and our fears. Through this dark lens, we reinterpret our entire story. To emphasize the negativity of the present, we tend to idealize the past, but this is often a distorted view of a history that never existed. Israel expressed nostalgia for meager food, interpreting it as something sumptuous. In reality, Israel had left behind slavery, exploitation, and humiliation. The past isn’t always as it’s recounted; it’s a common mechanism: to denigrate the present, we exaggerate a past that never was!
Lament often arises from the perception of God’s absence. We feel like we’re walking alone, defenseless against life’s dangers. We yearn to trade the small securities of the past for the chance to find a promised land. We cannot reach the promised land without passing through the desert!
Food
This distortion of reality often stems from hunger: the lack of food alters our perception. But food also symbolizes what we feel we need to sustain us. Some seek flattery, others are desperately in search of affection, and some need to feel constantly valued. It’s essential to ask what we are feeding on to understand if it’s a healthy way to manage our hunger.
Through these questions, I may discover if I understand that the only food truly satisfying my deepest hunger is a relationship with Jesus.
Seeking
In this Sunday’s Gospel of John, people are searching for Jesus. Even if their motives aren’t entirely pure, it’s a starting point. This search needs purification, but at least they are moving. The next question Jesus poses is about why we are seeking Him. This is a fundamental question for anyone on a spiritual journey. At some point, we must confront our motives: Do I seek a God who meets my needs? A God who can solve my problems?
Often, our unspoken and hidden needs outweigh the desire for a true relationship with the Lord. Perhaps we are also seeking the bread, regardless of the fact that this bread is the way to be with Jesus. The bread that fed the crowds was not the end but the means to understand better who Jesus is; it was a sign.
Gift
The bread, the gift, that fills my life leads me to God only if I understand that food is not an achievement. Bread is a gift, received. Bread is neither a demand nor a theft. Only those who approach life with this attitude of acceptance see in bread a sign of God’s goodness. Israel in the desert didn’t achieve the bread. When bread was lacking, causing lament, Israel experienced receiving manna from heaven. It was food that Israel neither managed nor controlled, precisely because it was a gift. Even more so, we can let God dwell within us, who through the Son, comes to give us life. The true bread, the one that nourishes our heart, the one that satisfies our deepest hunger, is Jesus, the ultimate gift, whom we are called to accept, letting ourselves be nourished as beloved children.
Self-Reflection
How do I live through moments when life makes me cross the desert? Am I seeking Jesus? And for what reason?
