Despite how it may first appear or feel within us, all human desires ultimately point toward God, for He alone can fulfill them completely. The love we long for, the health we pursue, and the happiness we seek all have both a name and a face: Jesus Christ. This is why Jesus declares in the Gospel of John, “I am the light of the world; whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12).
Yet too often, we convince ourselves that this innate desire for God can be satisfied by the things of this world. In reality, the longing—the deep ache within us—is God calling out, inviting us to Himself. It is His way of urging us beyond the temporary, even beyond the good things of this world, toward something greater. In this sense, the ache within us is not an enemy, but a gift. It directs us toward what is truly good, what will ultimately satisfy us: God Himself.
What, then, is the solution? In their teaching and example, the saints offer a profound well of wisdom. If we were to distill a single universal principle from their lives, it would be this: do not allow yourself to be satisfied by anything or anyone but Jesus Christ.
At first glance, this principle may seem harsh, even devoid of human emotion and affection. To understand it properly, however, we must first clarify what the saints are not teaching. They do not call us to be cold or indifferent toward others, as though love for God excused us from loving our neighbor. Nor do they teach us to despise our lives or reject the goodness of the created world. Rather, they teach the necessity of a rightly ordered heart. We cannot find our ultimate rest or completeness in anything or anyone but God alone.
St. John of the Cross expresses this poignantly: “All the wealth and glory of creation compared to the wealth that is God is utter poverty and misery in the Lord’s sight. The person who loves and possesses these things is completely poor and miserable before God and will be unable to attain the richness and glory of transformation in God.”[1]
He is not teaching that the world is bad or evil, since after God finishes creating all that is we are told that,“God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good” (Genesis 1:31). Rather, he reminds us that all of creation, when compared to God, is as nothing. The most beautiful sunset, the most magnificent ocean view, the most delicious meal, and even all the wealth in the world are but pale reflections of the beauty and grandeur of God. Thus, we are not diminishing creation; we are exalting its Creator. We are not meant to stop at created things, but to move beyond them, to their source, their origin: our God.
Many years ago, I was at a retreat when I had a conversation with a man whose story has stayed with me ever since. He told me he had recently retired from Wall Street at just 40 years old. In only a decade, he had become a billionaire—more than enough to ensure he would never have to work again. By every worldly measure, he had everything one could imagine.
Yet in his late 30s, he experienced a profound conversion that led him back to the Church. Instead of continuing in that life of wealth and success, he chose a different path, one centered on prayer, simplicity, and serving the poor.
What struck me most was not his success, but his clarity. After sharing his story, he looked at me and said something I know I will never forget: “Once you have everything of this world, you quickly realize it is not enough.”
The things of this world, good in themselves, are meant by God to serve as signs pointing us toward something greater. They are never, and can never be, ends in themselves. For this reason, we must regularly and sincerely examine both our lives and our desires, asking: What am I truly living for? What am I really hoping for? Is there something, or someone, taking the place of God in my life?
Jesus’ question, “What do you seek?” calls each of us to deep and honest soul-searching. Like all His questions in the Gospel, it is both a wake-up call and an invitation: to live as we were created to live, by desiring God above all else. He alone is the answer to the deepest question of our lives.
The saints not only teach this truth, they live it. In a profoundly beautiful prayer, St. Catherine of Siena writes:
“Eternal God…You are a mystery as deep as the sea; the more I search, the more I find, and the more I find the more I search for you. But I can never be satisfied; what I receive will ever leave me desiring more. When you fill my soul I have an even greater hunger, and I grow more famished for your light. I desire above all to see you, the true light, as you really are…You are the garment which covers our nakedness, and in our hunger you are a satisfying food, for you are sweetness and in you there is no taste of bitterness.”[2]
She knew what she was seeking.
Let us pray that we would, too and that we would have the courage to seek nothing less than God Himself.
[1] The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross. The Ascent of Mount Carmel. (Washington, DC: Institute of Carmelite Studies, 1991), 126.
[2] The Liturgy of the Hours: According to the Roman Rite: Catholic Book Pulbishing Corp, New York, 1976, 1794-1795.
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