A Yearning for Fulfillment

By Julián Carrón - Each individual is called to choose what they believe will truly fulfill their life and will answer to the deep, unending thirst for fulfillment that resides in their hearts. The greater we feel this urgency, the more we feel challenged to explore what genuinely corresponds to our expectation, for not every choice satisfies the entirety of our hunger and thirst for meaning.

God created us as free beings, each with the responsibility to choose what we believe will bring fulfillment to our lives, what responds to the deep, unrelenting thirst for fullness that our hearts continually yearn for. At certain moments, this urgency becomes particularly intense, testing us profoundly. The more we feel this urgency, the more we are challenged to discern what truly aligns with our deepest expectations, recognizing that not every choice satisfies the entirety of our hunger and thirst for meaning.

We come to understand that this question is one we cannot delegate to anyone else; each of us is individually called to make our own choice and take a stand. This realization highlights our unique, irreducible relationship with the Mystery, with God. In such moments, we might feel a profound sense of loneliness—not a sentimental isolation, but a recognition of the dignity inherent in being truly "unique."

Leopardi keenly observed this and recognized in this irreducibility "the greatest sign of greatness and nobility that is seen in human nature." No one can take our place in the most profound decision of living; each of us is called to respond with the full measure of our irreducible individuality.

The Bible often equates these pivotal moments with the wilderness‌ — ‌a place where one feels stripped of all distractions and is compelled to confront the essential truths of life. In these desolate spaces, we are called to recognize what we truly need to live and what genuinely matters. The prophet Hosea captures this sentiment beautifully. God, speaking of Israel as His bride, declares: "I will allure her, bring her into the wilderness, and speak to her heart" (Hosea. 2:16).

Illness, too, can be a circumstance that makes us acutely aware of our uniqueness. Giovanni Allevi in San Remo, where he exclaimed before everyone poignantly illustrated this, "Each individual, each of us, each of you, is unique, unrepeatable, and in our own way, infinite." Such moments call us to confront the truth of our own existence, prompting a profound inner reflection that leads us to ask, "But who am I, really?"

What is this yearning for fulfillment that stirs within me, refusing to grant me peace? What is this relentless longing that pushes me forward without rest? The more one becomes aware of the nature of this yearning, the more one feels cornered. This powerful urge leaves no room for jest or trivial pursuits; it is a radical question upon which the very essence of life depends.
In confronting this urgent yearning for fulfillment, we are called to recognize what corresponds to what can be on its level.

We constantly face myriad possibilities, a reality we've all experienced countless times. The more seriously one considers the boundless need within, the more evident it becomes that not just any attempt at an answer can satisfy this relentless yearning. This realization deepens our understanding of the profound drama inherent in living.

Even Jesus, in his humanity, could not escape facing this profound drama. The Gospel of Mark recounts this with a stark brevity compared to Matthew and Luke. "The Spirit," it says, "drove Jesus into the wilderness, and in the wilderness he remained forty days, tempted by Satan." Mark doesn't detail the content of these temptations, but we don't need those specifics to grasp the significance of this trial.

T.S. Eliot, the great American poet, succinctly identified the fundamental temptations humanity faces in the "desert and emptiness" as "Usury, Lust, and Power" (T.S. Eliot, Choruses from "The Rock").

But Jesus doesn't fear temptation; the Spirit drives him into the wilderness. For Jesus, this is an opportunity‌ — ‌one of many he will encounter‌ — ‌to demonstrate what truly matters to him: his deep attachment to the Father. His identity as the Son enables him to expose the falsehood of any alternative to his relationship with the Father.

Who else can bring him fulfillment other than his relationship with the Father? How does Jesus emerge from these temptations? We see it in his actions and words following the trial: "After John was arrested, Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the gospel of God and saying, 'The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.'"

He emerges from the trial with a heightened self-awareness, declaring to all, "The time is fulfilled." Evil hasn't triumphed; Satan has lost out in the face of the Father's attractiveness.

With his victory, Jesus ushers in the time of fulfillment: human freedom as self-fulfillment is already possible, even within history. We are no longer condemned to live as slaves to "Usury, Lust, or Power"; instead, we can attain the only fullness that truly sets us free. This is why "The Kingdom of God is at hand"—it is within reach for those who genuinely seek freedom and self-fulfillment.

But how is this freedom achieved? Jesus extends a profound invitation by placing himself before everyone: "Repent and believe in the gospel." Conversion, contrary to common belief, is not a superhuman effort attainable only by a few. Instead, it is about being captivated by his presence and allowing it to enter us.

To believe is to recognize the Gospel, the Good News embodied in Jesus himself. He invites us to verify how the truth he brings is unique in its power to liberate us. As St. John says, "The truth will make you free" (Jn. 8:32). We know we have found the truth through our experience of freedom, which is not merely the ability to choose but the fulfillment of our deepest desires for satisfaction.

This is the fulfillment of the covenant made with Noah, which has become a definitive reality for each of us through Baptism. The Lord leads us to understand the purpose of our irreducible nature and our greatness. As St. Augustine eloquently states, "You show quite plainly the greatness which You have willed to attribute to the rational creature; to its blissful stillness nothing suffices that is less than You, and therefore not even itself (**)" (Augustine, Confessions). Indeed, O Christ, everything less than You is too little for our hearts. It's up to each of us to make our own decision.

By the wretched restlessness of fallen spirits, manifesting their darkness as they are stripped naked of the garment of your light, you show how great a thing is the rational creature you have made. Whatever is less than you can never be sufficient to provide itself with the rest of contentment, and for this reason, it is not even a source of contentment to itself. For you, our God 'will lighten our darkness' (Ps. 17: 29). From you comes our clothing (Isa. 61: 10), and our darkness will become as midday (Isa. 58: 10).

This text collects some of the homilies delivered by Julián Carrón during the Easter season of 2024. The different sections do not correspond to the chronology of the liturgy but to thematic groupings edited by paginasdigital.es. The text and its translation have not been revised by the author.