Invitation to the present moment
25/08/13 05:39
People have struggled with the concept of time for generations. We have the capacity to remember and the ability to anticipate. So we think in terms of past, present and future. Those concepts work well for interpreting the events of our lives most of the time. People have a great capacity to endure discomfort if they have some sense that it is temporary. When they are able to anticipate the end of the present situation they will endure discomfort or even pain in order to reach a reward.
There are, of course, all kinds of limits to our ability to perceive time. When we look back, our memories are inaccurate. After the passage of time the ability to discern the difference between what happened and how we remember it fades. We become convinced that our memories are the truth, even when confronted with memories that are different from our own. The old adage that history is written by the victors applies to events that are smaller than wars, conquests and international conflicts. In families there are often multiple interpretations of past events. Which story becomes official often depends on who is telling the stories.
If our sense of the past is often fuzzy, our sense of the future is even more so. We don’t really know what is going to happen at any point in the future. We often make plans that include a particular vision of future events only to find out that things don’t work as planned. There are so many factors that influence any event that our predictions are often not even close to what actually unfolds.
Religious faith often plays a part in our understanding of the flow of time. Many world religions have a canon of stories that gain official status as the treasures of the faith. Judaism, Christianity and Islam all share the portion of our bible often called the “Old Testament” or “Hebrew Scriptures.” These books are not simply history, but rather a very complex collection of poetry, history, interpretation, liturgy, with a bit of politics thrown in the mix as well. The value of scripture lies not just in the words that have been saved, treasured, translated and interpreted over the generations, but also in the ways in which our people have used those words. The very fact that we have kept them over millennia makes them a part of our identity.
Anticipation of the future can also be a major part of religious expression. The promise of a future reward is woven into the stories of our scriptures. Abraham and Sarah leave the home of their ancestors to find a promised land. Israel came into occupation of that land generations after the death of Abraham and Sarah. Moses led the people out of Egypt, but he himself never entered the Promised Land. Story after story of our people speaks to an understanding of belonging to a multiple-generation process. The people of God are on a journey that exceeds the span of a single lifetime.
Preachers have used promises of heaven or warnings of hell to inspire and motivate people. Jonathan Edwards’ classic sermon, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” is just one example of an entire genre of public oratory meant to motivate people to particular patterns of behavior and belief.
There is, however, also present in many religions, an invitation to experience, savor and understand the present moment. The Buddhist concept of “presentness” is, in part, a practice of clearing one’s consciousness of thoughts of the past and anticipations of the future in order to more fully experience what is going on right now in the moment. You don’t have to be a Buddhist or engage in meditation practices to experience the richness of the moment. A brilliant sunrise or an intense encounter with a child can change the center of your attention. People who receive diagnoses of life-ending illnesses often report that the quality of their time changes. Losing dreams of the future can result in a more intense experience of the present.
Confronted by the Pharisees about the nature of the kingdom of heaven, Jesus spoke not of some other place or distant time, but rather the here and now, saying “The kingdom of heaven is within you.” (Luke 17:21)
The Russian writer Leo Tolstoy used this single verse as the basis of his magnum opus published in Germany in 1894 after having been banned in his home country. Tolstoy uses the verses of the bible and the principles of Christian faith to call for an end to violence and vengeance. The sort of social anarchy outlined in the book, however, never came to exist within the confines of human institutions and governments. The picture painted by Tolstoy is probably too idealistic for the realities of this world.
So we live our lives in the midst of an imperfectly remembered past and a vision of the future that is limited by our lack of insight and imagination. We use terms like heaven and hell without fully understanding what we mean. We plan and save for a future whose nature we cannot know. And sometimes we become distracted from the beauty and glory of the present because we spend too much of our energy in looking back or worrying about tomorrow. Despite numerous invitations from religion to let go of our worry, we find that an impossible challenge. Jesus asks us to “consider the lilies of the field,” but we look at the field and worry about winter snow.
A religious lifestyle requires practice. We don’t easily let go of the past. We don’t easily release worry about the future. It is only through a process of discipline that we learn a bit about living in the present. But such discipline is deeply rewarding. The ability to sit and listen to the beauty of music, to look at the beauty of nature, to dwell with the words of faith – these are joys worthy of our discipline and investment of time.
So today we will gather to worship once again. Our worship will be imperfect. We have not ceased being human. But we will once again practice living in the moment and appreciating the gifts of the present. And that is enough for today.