“When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, ‘What are you looking for?'” – John 1:38

Well, Teacher, I’ve been following you
for forty-five years and more, and yet:
I don’t think I can tell you what I’m looking for.

It’s such an awkward question.

Like Andrew and his long-forgotten friend
(what happened to him, anyway?),
if you asked me I’d say something inane.

“Where are you staying, Teacher?”

You know, I know, they knew
that wasn’t why they took those steps
from John the Baptist’s side to yours.

But how were they to answer what they didn’t know?

And I, with decades as a follower,
with decades as a teacher of your flock,
with years of writing poem prayers to you,

I still don’t know.

What am I looking for in you?
A place of honor, a big frog
in what seems like a shrinking pond?

That would be silly, wouldn’t it?

Might I be looking for some meaning in
a world that seems to shed its sense
and sense of morals, too?

Can you make sense of what’s nonsensical?

Could I be looking for a safe embrace,
for arms extended wide, to hold me
fiercely, gently, for all time?

I could. I could indeed.

But most of all, dear Teacher, I
suspect I’m looking for the One
who’ll listen to my babbled nonsense answer, and

Reply with, “Come and see.”

A poem/prayer based on John 1:29-42, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year A, Second Sunday after the Epiphany.

The image is Vocation de Saint Jean et de Saint André (The Calling of Saint John and Saint Andrew) by James Tissot (between 1886 and 1894) – Online Collection of Brooklyn Museum; Photo: Brooklyn Museum, 2008, 00.159.55_PS2.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10195829.