People only die for
People only live for
When it's all over
What we wouldn't give for
Living in sin like nine bowling pins
You knock them all down
You cash them all in for
Moments, just moments
We live for moments, just moments"
(Pierce Pettis, "Moments," from Tinseltown)
Today I got up, put on my suit, drove downtown, went in the office building where I work, waved at the security guard, took the elevator to the third floor, entered my security code, and. . . good grief, it must have been over 100 degrees in there. It's mostly dark. I find out that everyone has been sent home, as the air conditioning is down. So. . . I took the elevator to the ground floor, waved at the security guard, left the building, drove home, took the suit off (put shorts on), and got back in bed. No, just kidding. I was into the symmetry of it. I didn't really get back in bed.
Moments. In the most likely untold history of my life, I wonder what the value of those moments were. I look at them as a waste of time. The only mildly valuable thing I can think of is my wave to the security guard, a small gesture of friendliness, but the rest of the time seems like a huge waste.
"When it's all over, what we wouldn't give for moments." A few more of those moments, and I could have slept, made breakfast for my children, let my wife sleep. Prayed. Read the Bible.
"The clock keeps on ticking/ World keeps on turning/ Moments."
I'm washing windows in my house now. I'm wondering how to redeem the moment, where to place my mind. I'm thinking that mundaneness is where we live, in fact is most of what we do. Work is paper on paper for me, word on word. Not much more important than windows. Or, just as important depending on how you see it.
God sanctified the moments, I know. In one moment in time He became incarnate, the noncorporeal Father who is pure spirit became the flesh and blood Son, and in so doing He sanctified each and every moment.
The wild-eyed pastor who nabbed me at the back of his church many years ago and said, "Steve, life is existential. Life is existential!", was right. Life is all about moments, moments unto God, or moments lived outside of God.
"When it ends finally/ What was it all for/ Moments, just moments."
Gregory of Nyssa, in his On the Lord's Prayer, said this: "Let us remember that the life in which we ought to be interested is 'daily' life. We can, each of us, only call the present time our own. . . . Our Lord tells us to pray for today, and so he prevents us from tormenting ourselves about tomorrow. It is as if [God] were to say to us: '[It is I] who gives you this day [and] will also give you what you need for this day. [It is I] who scatters the darkness of night and reveals to you the rays of the sun."
Moments. Now, the windows clear. I can see better. It only takes a moment.