Holy Moments

Have you ever had one of those moments that seems loaded with meaning? One of those moments where everything carries a special importance? I call those “soul moments” or “holy moments”. Recently, I had such a moment. Several weeks ago, I went back to visit my alma mater, Asbury Theological Seminary (disclaimer: for all my friends that live in KY that I didn’t see this time, I swear I was only there a very short time, for a specific purpose, and I will be back and visit with all of you, at length, soon!). Eating lunch in the cafeteria with one of my dearest friends, another friend joined us towards the end. The conversation suddenly turned authentic and raw—and focused on me. My two friends started to speak to me the words I needed desperately to hear, but didn’t know how to ask for. You see, in recent months I’d been going through a time of soul-searching, wondering if I was really effective as a pastor or a person—a season of doubts. Like all of us, I want to live a significant life, knowing that I am doing my best—knowing that my being on the earth has made some kind of difference. The conversation at lunch that day proved to be a turning point for me. My friends spoke words of encouragement directly to my soul, sharing examples of how my life and my preaching has truly made a difference in specific lives. Because of my deep respect and love for these two people, I actually believed them. I let their words soak into my heart as I trusted and treasured them. The unique thing about this situation is that I am very adept at diverting attention away from myself in conversations. When things get too personal, I can skillfully turn the conversation back toward the person I am talking with. Usually people don’t notice, as most people would much rather talk about themselves than anything else. However, those who know me best don’t let me get away with that and they call me on it, and make me listen. I needed to listen. I needed to hear a truth from others that I could not find on my own. As I sat there in the midst of that conversation, I was very aware of the holiness of that time, as we all talked with tears in our eyes. The thought crossed my mind in those very moments: “God is here. This is a holy moment”.

Reflecting on my recent holy moment has made me think about the nature of such moments. I am beginning to wonder if those kind of moments aren’t offered to us much more consistently that we realize. Maybe every moment has the potential to be a holy moment.

One of my favorite books is called “Abandonment to Divine Providence” by Jean Pierre de Caussade. He talks about the “sacrament of the present moment”. A sacrament, by definition, is a visible and outward symbol of an inward and invisible grace. For Caussade, this meant that each moment of our lives could be a way to encounter the grace of God. How does one encounter this grace in the moment? By abandoning himself to the will of God—by trusting that each and every moment is coming directly from God as a gift. Granted, that gift is often mysterious, incomprehensible, or even painful. Caussade’s argument was similar to the statement I once read: “Nothing comes to us that has not first passed through God’s Hands”. I realize the theological implications of this--that it begs the question, “Does God cause bad things to happen to us?” I cannot answer this. The only thing I can say is what Caussade would perhaps say: When we abandon all that we are to God, we learn to trust that He knows what He is doing in every situation, that nothing takes Him by surprise even though it might knock us off our feet, and that even the most dire circumstances can and will be touched by God’s resurrecting power, if we allow Him that access to our moments.

While I was still in seminary, I wanted to order another copy of Caussade’s book (this was, of course, before I had discovered the great joy of my life, amazon.com). I went with some friends to Joseph Beth Booksellers in Lexington, KY (it would be worth the drive to Lexington just to visit this magnificent store). I talked with the clerk---since, surprise, they did not have a copy of “Abandonment to Divine Providence” in stock. Interestingly enough, the clerk had actually read the book and we engaged in a lengthy conversation about its meaning. He made the statement that the book was “impractical for this day and age”. I took great offense to this (as some friends can attest to, because I ranted about it for days!). Really the clerk was just a doofus (I learned this technique of defending an argument from our American political system, where you win a debate through name calling, instead of truly addressing the issue at hand). In all seriousness, I believe his point was that the book came out of a simpler time, and was written by and to people who lived a monastic life (meaning they had lots of time to pray and reflect on God). I disagreed with him then and I disagree with him now. Times may have changed, but we humans have not. We still ask the same questions, wrestle with the same demons, and fear the same enemies. The thing that is most clearly the same is our desperate need for God. Faith has always been about learning to surrender our will to the will of God…and that has always been an extraordinarily difficult thing to do.

I share all this to remind us to look for the holiness of the present moment. I believe God is offering us each moment as a gift. If we paid more attention and kept our eyes open, we might not miss as many holy moments as we do. In fact, the holy moments might become the common moments of our lives, rather than the surprises. I wish for you all an avalanche of holy encounters with God in the midst of every day life, as we all learn to abandon ourselves to God.