The word “seeker” has always stirred something in me, a quiet fire. A whisper from beyond the edges of my understanding. A pull that cannot be explained. It’s not about finding something lost. It’s about responding to something already present, pressing against the walls of my soul. There are moments in life when we witness something so quietly beautiful, it awakens a thirst we didn’t know we carried. The disciples saw Him praying. Just being lost in silent communion. Something in that stillness stirred something ancient in them. A longing. homesickness for something they couldn’t name.
And one of them finally said it: “Lord, teach us to pray. “This is where all true seeking begins, not with the head, but with the ache. A seeker is drawn by what is already present but deeper than we’ve ever touched. In today's gospel passage, we meet different seekers.
The first is the disciple-whose seeking begins by simply noticing. A longing born from witnessing intimacy that calls their spirit home.
The second is the midnight wanderer—not knocking for himself, but seeking bread for another. His cupboards are empty, but his heart is awake. This is the kind of seeker Jesus honours—the one who dares to step out at midnight, with nothing but trust and longing.
There is a sacred ache in this passage. In the disciple watching and aching. In the midnight friend, knocking and pleading. In the restless heart, searching and stretching. All of them caught in that beautiful tension between emptiness and desire between the door and the One who opens it. Beneath them all is the same holy ache:” Let me come closer. Let me belong. Let me be with You.” And Jesus does not silence that longing. He welcomes it. He blesses it. He becomes the door that opens.
Let us always believe in the words of Rumi “What you seek is seeking you”.
- Lilly Pushpam PBVM
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