What is the present moment?

Let’s try to analyze what the present moment is in its essence, discover its actual value, draw on the richness of the present moment, and live it to the full. The moment cannot be analyzed by reason, for it no longer exists. It is not a passing time but a glimpse into eternity. In religious terms, we can briefly define it as follows: the present moment is the point of the soul’s encounter with God. The present moment is, first and foremost, a connection point with God. Whatever its form and content, by its very nature, it is, for us, an expression of God’s will. It is in this minute that God wants us to see how we do this act, which very often will not be exceptional nor spectacular but trivial and insignificant, and its only value will be that it is God’s will. But more is needed?
The present moment is not only an expression of God’s will but also brings us into the presence of God. If, at this moment, we are expected, the Lord asks us to be in this place and to do this, it is because he expects us to be here. It is at this point that we will meet him, and if we seek him elsewhere, we will miss him. He is waiting, therefore, for us to give Himself, to communicate Himself in his entirety. Let us specify what the present moment represents to us. God’s will and presence in the sense that the place ceases to be necessary; only the presence with God and in God has meaning, for in all times and places, we can give thanks to him.
Every time, there is a place where we are to give thanks to God’s presence in its eternal moment, which delivers us from the duration of
time. Various similes can illustrate this definition. Encompass each row in its entire length. Before or then, we see only an uncluttered jumble. Imagine two spheres, one of which is infinitely large and contains infinite energy potential, and the other is an image of the first but is infinitely tiny and immobile. They touch at only one point, but at that single point of contact, the power of one sphere flows into the other. It’s not the same as when we come into contact with God? However, this simile is correct because we do not forget that we belong to God; the small sphere is also contained in the big one: nothing exists outside God.
Every single minute of our life is indispensable. We approach God only in a single moment: in this and the next. Our whole existence is but a continuous succession of moments. And this gives it a semblance of continuity. This contact with God in every single moment thus gives birth to a moment that lasts forever, a permanent union with God through all things. Even when the soul is absorbed in active life, it remains with Jesus in constant renewal, in profound solitude with him alone. He can continually yield himself to the presence of God – in every event and every circumstance. Now, we can easily understand that the saints can accomplish much work, solve many difficulties, and take on heavy responsibilities without losing control of themselves, without ceasing to be all things to all men in all things. Therefore, when St. John of the Cross recommends the purification of memory, he means nothing else than that we should live in the present and free ourselves from the past.
The present moment, then, is the very basis of our connection with God. The divine presence certainly shines through more in prayer or suffering. And especially in the sacraments, God gives himself to us entirely uniquely. But every moment gives us God. We could also say that the present moment is, in a certain sense, a permanent sacrament, a sign of God’s hidden presence. Then, any waste of this moment is a heresy—the imitation of the present moment. To complete our analysis of the present moment, let us now look not directly at it but at how it is imaged in life and the chosen people, the living image of Christianity.
Let us open the Bible, the book of Exodus (15:22). Through Moses, God has just delivered his people from Egyptian bondage. A place to lead them to the promised land by an easy coastal route; he led them into the desert to strengthen their souls. Israel’s entire journey is full of uncertainties: every obstacle becomes an opportunity to fall, to grumble, or, on the contrary, to show confidence and faith. God is constantly intervening, always answering Moses’ prayer. The Jewish people hoped that once they had crossed the Red Sea, they would find themselves in the promised kingdom. It didn’t happen. It was forced to live in the desert in constant uncertainty. Egypt was undoubtedly a place of slavery, but there was safety. And in the hearts of the people of Israel, pity sprouted: bread and meat to the full for more valuable to them than freedom. What is the use of being free if …when one has nothing to eat? Would that we had died in Egypt! At the first test is the Jewish distrust. Scripture and tradition see this life in the wilderness as a foreshadowing of Christianity. The Christian, redeemed from sin as Israel was. Delivered from Egyptian bondage, it is not immediately called to eternal happiness, just as the Jewish people did not reach the promised land. The Christian, too, must wander through an earthly life where all sorts of difficulties and dangers await him. Every day, he must rely on the Word of God instead of trusting his impressions and personal decisions. He must agree to live by his beliefs, not what he sees. Faith replaces his sight and, in some cases, even reason. The Christian must rely on God every day, even in the most concrete problems, such as what to eat and what to drink. And just as Israelites, Christians grumble. Everything is perfect when God makes life humanly easy. Once the trial comes, the sickness and loneliness, there is no escaping the experience of the people of Israel. Like manna in the wilderness, we receive grace every day. It is, and we can’t stockpile it, even though we often see in it a cure for our pains, a solution to our issues, the removal of difficulties. It is nothing of the sort.
After we have received the favor of heaven, they reappear as issues and obstacles. Nothing is absolute; grace is not certain. Today, we are vainly being captivated by grace, experiencing spiritual joy, gaining assurance of eternity, and feeling that nothing will be complicated anymore; the new dawn will not find us stronger; perhaps, on the contrary, we will be a little weaker, helpless, and burdened by our burdens. Where are yesterday’s graces, the certainty, the certainty of peace, the victory over every fear… Where is the heavenly bread we thought we had enough of for a lifetime?… Where is the joy that our hearts overflowed with?
We have received so much, and now we have nothing. We’re living so
like those who have no hope. We grumble… One bad news, one failure, has dispelled our sense of security. We have only one certainty: we are alone, abandoned, at the bottom of an anxious abyss. Everything is exactly as it was before. Israel has seemingly yet to advance one step further. It wasn’t worth it to cross the Red Sea or leave Egyptian slavery when grace God’s grace was no longer with them. It must be so. We must learn that grace is always entirely new; it is only for this day. It is always complete and whole. If God gave us something yesterday, it doesn’t mean we won’t need it today. Although we are filled with grace, we must remain poor, exempt from everything. Every day and every minute of every day, we must surrender our being to God. The prayer of the completer should constantly flow from our hearts. I commend my spirit, O Lord (Psalm 31:6), into your hands, which Could you hold me at this moment? If God tests His people, it is to teach them to rely on God alone, to know that they are in His hands. What the chosen people have done for forty years, we must do continually. Without the slightest insurance for the future, with daily risk, trust that God will hold us tomorrow as he does today, to accept poverty and beg for God’s mercy. And when this act of faith is performed, the Christian must repeat it at every moment, for it is usually after the act of faith that God comes to our aid. To the end of our lives, we are to seek without ceasing the presence of Him who has promised to be with us always (cf. Matthew 28:20). He who is the same yesterday and today, the deliverer, the comforter, whom we need today and will need tomorrow. Without Him, we are as helpless today as we will be tomorrow.
The Christian, like wandering Israel, is also a pilgrim, accompanied by the uncertainty of grace. At every moment, he requires God as his guide. He is a creature in waiting, a pilgrim on the way to the Father’s house. He knows no rest. He does not dwell in this life; he does not say, “Let us stop here.” He is essentially a man of desire, inquietude, cor (= restless heart) until he finds eternal rest in God. And yet he is full of joy, security, peace, tranquility, and brightness, for he knows where he is going and in whom he has believed. More accurately, he does not know where he is going, but he knows that there he is going. Another – and what a perfect – representation of the present moment, we can ponder and marvel at the Blessed Virgin Mary herself. Her whole life was one series of moments, sometimes inconspicuous, but she lived with the utmost love. Her entire being, wonderfully pure through her immaculate conception, certainly gave at the disposal of these successive moments in perfect and total absorption; in each moment, she was exposing her entire being to the light that illuminated it, transformed it, spiritualizing. In Mary, the sun did not cast shadows. She was the pure dwelling place of God, body and soul belonging only to heaven, and we know how she pondered the meaning of things: But Mary kept it all. In her heart and considered it (Luke 2:19). And so to Mary belongs glory, in terms of her merit, for living fully in the present moment.