What Do You Want?

Homily for March 5, 2025
Ash Wednesday

Gregor, my Friday morning yoga teacher, recently said:  “So often, we do yoga in such a way that it confronts the body.”  This confrontation comes from the mind, he said,which tells the body things like, “The pose should look like this;” or,“You ought to be able to do this pose;” or “This pose is supposed to be easy,”or “This pose is supposed to feel difficult.”   But nothing good comes from confronting our body, Gregor said, “it leads only to struggle.”  Rather, he suggested, can we allow yoga to be for us something that nourishes the body?  “If we can allow yoga to nourish the body,” he said.  “then yoga becomes very healing.”

I have a hunch that many of us do Lent in a way that is similar to how many people do yoga; that is, we allow Lent to be a season that confronts us.  “For Lent, I should not eat this,” we tell ourselves.  Or, “For Lent, I ought to resist doing that.”  Or, “Lent is supposed to be difficult;” or, “During Lent, I am supposed to feel somber or dour.”  I have a hunch that for many of us, Lent is a season we allow to confront us.

I wonder, though, if instead of allowing Lent to be a season that confronts us, we might allow Lent to be a season that nourishes us.  And to assist in that process of allowing Lent to nourish rather than to confront us, I invite us to consider a question:  What do you want?  “What do you want?” is perhaps the most important question in the spiritual life.  Getting in touch with our desires and what we want really, helps to cut through the “shoulds,” “oughts,” and “supposed-to’s” with which we tend to confront ourselves and that can hinder our faith from nourishing us.

My former spiritual director, a Jesuit, tells the story of being on retreat up in Maine shortly before making his life profession.  It was a beautiful, sunny day, and he was walking on a path alongside a burbling brook up into the mountains.  On this mild autumn day with the trees ablaze in color, he prayed, “Jesus, I want to give my whole life to your service.”  A voice responded, “Do you really?”  After a long pause – like maybe another quarter mile up the mountain path – my director conceded, “Well, maybe not really…”  And the voice shot back, “Good!  I can work with that.”  Though at first, my director might have said what he thought he should or ought to say, in a healthy move he came around to a place of honesty and said what he wanted really:  “Well, maybe I don’t want to give my whole life to you…”   Jesus can work with our honesty.

Might I suggest, if we want this Lent to be a season that nourishes rather than confronts us, [might I suggest] that we tell Jesus what we want, what we want really?  “What do you want?”  And keep in mind that telling Jesus what we want really is that new car or that new phone or to take that cruise or whatever is perfectly fine; the important thing is to be honest – Jesus can work with our honesty.  As trivial as it may seem to us to tell him we want that house or to take that cruise,our sense of what may be “trivial” is most likely conditioned by a “should,”“ought” or “supposed to” – what we think we should or ought to want, or how we think we are supposed to talk to Jesus.  But if we were to tell Jesus to the best ofour ability what we want really, he is likely to say, “You want that? (You want that new bicycle?  You want those earrings?  You want… whatever it is?)...”  [Jesus is likely to say,] “Good - I can work with that.”  

The first words Jesus speaks in St. John’s Gospel are a question:  “What do you want?”  When two disciples began to follow:

“Turning around, Jesus saw them following and asked, ‘What do you want?’” (1:38, NIV).  

For those who this Lent might wish to have Lent not confront but nourish you, Jesus’ first words to you would likely be the same:  “What do you want?”  Maybe even imagine yourself, like the disciples, coming up from behind Jesus, and Jesus turning around and asking you, “What do you want?”  What would you tell him?  Be honest!   An authentic relationship with God is grounded not in “shoulds,” “oughts” or“supposed to’s” – “shoulds,” “oughts,” and “supposed to’s” tend to confront rather than to nourish us.  But an authentic relationship with God is a relationship grounded in honesty.  Such a relationship is life-giving and nourishes us and is capable of bringing deep satisfaction and joy.

To give us a jump start in this honesty, tonight’s liturgy offers us an honest, tangible reminder of who we are really, and also an honest tangible reminder of what it is God wants.  Who we are really is human, which means, “of the earth.”  In a few moments,we will be marked with a cross of ash on our foreheads.  “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  There are no more-true,more honest words in the English language than these that will be spoken to each of us this evening.  And what does God want?  At the Eucharist, Michael will quote Jesus’ words:  “Take, eat:  This is my body which is given for you.”  And again, “Drink this, all of you:  This is my Blood of the new Covenant.”   God wants us to take into ourselves God’s very self, the body and blood of the Son.  For God wants to be united with us.  God wants to be so close, so intimate with us, that God is one with us.

As we stand at the threshold of Lent, what do you want?  Tell Jesus; and be honest!  The most-free, most healthy spiritual life is one not marked by “I should” or “I ought to” or “I feel I’m supposed to” – these only confront us and cause us to struggle.  But the most-free, most healthy spiritual life is marked rather by being honest with ourselves about what we want, and by being honest with Jesus about what we want.  And as we allow ourselves to express to Jesus the desires of our heart, he can work with that.  And our honest expression of our desire will open the door to a relationship with Jesus that is authentic, nourishing, and very healing.

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