Each Moment

Amund Karner, a Scottish Celtic writer penned, “ In His presence, live a moment at a time: live that moment fully. To try to live a holy life is to be crushed by the enormity of the task, but a whole life consists of a series of such moments….

Focus your gaze, and then, when the arrow of your attention is released, it will hit the mark and find Him.  The aim: Him. The glory: His.”

I recall an administrator at the college I attended in the 70’s would admonish students with the words, “redeem the time.”; words taken from the King James Version of Ephesians 5:14-16, “See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil.”

There are a number of hymns that share this notion of making each moment a scared one. For example Frances Havergal wrote, “Take my moments and my days; let them flow in endless praise”

Edward Joy penned the refrain

All my days and all my hours,
All my will and all my powers,
All the passion of my soul,
Not a fragment – but the whole
Shall be Thine, dear Lord,
Shall be Thine, dear Lord.

One of the practices within the Celtic tradition is that of blessing the moment, where we can begin to see the everyday things of our lives as openings into the depths of the world. The steam rising from my coffee, the bird singing from a tree branch outside my window, the doorbell announcing a friend’s arrival, the meal that nourishes my body for service all bring me closer to God’s grace.

In practice, it could mean taking a breath before beginning a new task. It could mean saying a prayer as a task or chore is completed. It could mean minding the clock and pausing on the hour or at even hours or every three hours at 6 o’clock, 9 o’clock, Noon, 3 p.m., 6 p.m. or 9 p.m., and so on.

In the milking of cows and tending the hearth,
in threading the loom and gathering the peat,
the breath of prayer blessing each movement,
a naming of Creator upon each mindful deed.

Not in our kingdom of busyness,
not in our land of lost simplicity,
yet the Celtic grace of looking deeply
and the Celtic faith of believing fully
lives on enduringly within each of us,
beseeching our beholding.

Like the unceasing prayer of Celts,
an ancient call to gather the ordinary,
savor the sacrament that lies within,
bless whatever life offers to us
in the routine, the mindless, the duty,
the cherished, the surprising, the serene.

Let our open gaze fall faithfully
over a stretch of hurried days,
see among their swiftly moving pieces
a story threaded with touch of Divine.

Celtic moment, Soul moment, Sacred moment,
in simple task or thin veil of mystery,
whatever our day brings we can bless,
whatever our lives hold we can reverence.

Gather all to our soul:
the silent sparkle of untamed moments,
the hurried haze of endless duty,
the silky joy of surprising experience,
the shadowed grasp of unwanted pain.

Recover the lost cloak
of Celtic rhyme and Celtic rhythm,
put on the rich garment
of intentional communion,
embrace the commonness of life
woven on the endless loom of the Holy