I came across this sentence in a reading I was doing for a graduate Christian fellowship of sorts that J. Morgan and I are involved in. The theme of the evening was the use of time and the idea of Sabbath. I've been doing a lot of reflection lately on the way I use my time, and to be honest, find that I mostly fail at using it well. In addition, I've been contemplating and praying about my life as a graduate student, my calling as a scholar, and my discontentment with graduate school right now. As I read the line above, something about it called to me. I've spent last night and a lot of today pondering what exactly is was that stood out to me about that sentence in the context of my life.

What I've come to is this. I feel that my current disdain for graduate school stems from the fact that it, by and large, interferes in my ability to face sacred moments. I came to this realization and then tried to think further about what it would mean to face sacred moments in the context of daily life. If I could ascertain what sacred moments might be, perhaps I could better organize my life to allow room for them.

The purpose of this post is to recount to you three sacred moments that I feel I've experienced this past year and to ask you to reflect, as well, on what it means to face sacred moments.

The first thing that came to my mind took place in April. After the Great Easter Vigil service at our church, Joshua and I had the opportunity to fellowship with friends at a true feast, celebrating His resurrection. The party was held in a small apartment...filled with people. 20-somethings, mostly, but with some baby-boomers thrown in, and even an 82 year old woman who sings in the choir. I took this picture that night:


I love this photograph. It speaks to me of the Christian tradition of "breaking bread" together. This night in April, I sat in a crowded apartment, surrounded by Christian brothers and sisters and watched everyone laughing, eating, drinking, fellowshipping and just generally being joyous together. These are people I didn't know three years ago when we moved here, but they are people who I hope to somehow know forever. The moment that I snapped this picture was a sacred moment in my life.

The second moment took place in August, high on a hilltop on the Oregon coast. Some friends perhaps had to convince me that the moment would be worth the hike, and I'm glad that they did. Sitting in the grass with Joshua and EAP, absorbing the sunshine and the ocean breeze was a sacred moment. I took this picture to commemorate:


We didn't even really talk that much while we sat there. We just lived in the moment.

The third moment took place just today, and I don't have a picture to illustrate, but I will share it anyway. I was sitting on the Trolley on my way home from school. The Trolley, being free public transportation, is a sure place to witness the down-and-out of my community. There is one old man that I see often around downtown, and often at the bus stop. He is beat up. He is shruken, hunched over a little bit, doesn't walk very well, and steps prove to be a particular difficulty. He also, for some reason, is nearly impossible to understand when he speaks. He's said a few things to me here and there at the Trolley stop, mostly asking if he could sit next to me, etc. I always feel sad for him. Today, the Trolley stopped, and a woman who was sitting in the front jumped up after the door opened. I saw her reach down toward the street, leaning and strategically hanging onto the rail by the entrance stairs. She said, "Let me help you up" and I saw the old man clinging to her hand as he struggled up the Trolley steps. She helped him to a seat. I thought, "What a kind woman! I wish that I had those kinds of instincts." Then, as the Trolley stopped downtown, I got off the back of the bus. But as I walked past the front entrance, I saw a man who had been on the Trolley with me, helping the old man down the steps as he exited. It was a sacred moment. They were strangers to him, yet reached out to him in compassion.

I'm not sure that these are the things Heschel meant when he said sacred moments, but they are what I've been thinking about today. I'm sure I won't stop thinking about what the sentence above means for quite awhile, and hopefully I'll write more as I continue to contemplate.

If you have any sacred moments to share, I'd love to hear them.