Jesus in the Present
Be present.
This sage advice saturates the world around me, yet this same world
teems with increasingly numerous varieties of distractions and crises. Countless wonderful people find themselves
caught in these chaotic cross currents.
Many ride them with apparent, yet frenetic, ease, turning them to useful
outcomes. Others compartmentalize,
carving parts of their lives to enter the flow.
But as good as these strategies are, staying “grounded” proves elusive. Somewhere along the way you discover voids that
have deepened through neglect, neglect reinforced with time spent in the swift
currents of distraction. So, yes, that sage
advice reverberates loudly in these empty spaces: “better not to have yielded to distraction,
better to have been present!” Hopeful as
this sounds the idea falls short, being a negation of the unpleasant reality:
be not-distracted. So if distraction has
a real antidote, what is its substance?
From reading Time
and Despondency, by Nicole Roccas, I discovered what I had overlooked. The proverbial nose on my face came into
view. The substance of life is the Life
Giver, and life in Christ is the life-giving relation. To be in the present, therefore, can only
have positive content through abiding in Christ.
The present moment can’t be viewed except as a
memory. You can prove this to yourself
by finding a text of some gravity—a book of ethics, the life of a saint, a
poem, history—and reading it for the first time aloud. As you read make sure to make each word loud
enough to be heard in the next room, clear enough to be understood, and with
the proper expression according to the grammatical indications and writing
style, and with appropriate cadence for a listener to be able to follow. While you are doing this make sure also to
understand what you are reading, both literally and in the full contextual meaning
intended by the author.
What I have discovered is that I cannot both read
for my understanding and for the benefit of the listener at the same moment,
within the moment that I’m reading. No
sooner do I begin reading than my mind evaluates the snapshot of prior
sentences and phrases (the past), while anticipating upcoming words and
sentence structure (the future) so that my mouth and voice can produce the proper
and effective sound. That sound is the
present, which passes me by before I can experience it as the past. In material and time bound terms the present
has no content, and is thoroughly ephemeral, transient in essence.
Therefore to be “in the present” can only have meaning
as being the appropriate synthesis of past and future within your reactions in
the present. Put another way, the
present presents a stage for the whole man to show himself for what he is. As God grants life to a man, therefore, each
moment begins with who you are, and ends with a choice about future
moments. But now we must recall the
ubiquity of distractions in the real world, both within a man’s appetites and
simply in the noise of external activity.
No man can be in the present without trusting himself to something, or someone, who enables him to react in the
present to the reality at hand.
That someone is Christ. The eternal Lord exists outside of time. Consequently we, his time bound creation, can
trust His directions about life in the present.
Those manifold, ubiquitous distractions, however, routinely interfere
with our understanding of Him. So we
choose, almost unconsciously, not to react in the present according to His will. Thank God, He is merciful!
Returning to the example of reading, if you read and
reread that text so that you become both familiar with it and connect with it
in a deep and meaningful way, the text in some sense becomes part of you. To that extent it changes you. Then when you read it aloud most of the
activity of reading is simply to see the words and make the sound; the rest
takes care of itself. The better that
text becomes part of you, the more varied can be the circumstances into which you
read it aloud effectively. Each such circumstance
will require different adjustments, which, the more comfortable you are with
the totality of the text and your own reading limitations, the more quickly and
reliably you can make a real-time adjustment.
This provides an analogy on the life in Christ. The more you are truly in Him, the more His
will appears in your own actions within the present. The analogy breaks down, however, in that a
text is not an active presence, but the Lord is. I dare to believe—because I do not know from experience—that
miraculous (not necessarily spectacular) things happen through the Saints in exactly this
way. And there we see the simplicity and
power of what the Lord taught us to pray:
“Thy will be done.”
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