Back to Articles

This Very Moment     | page 1 of 1 |

by Lynne Hybels

 

Written to church leaders, January 1997

It is a gray October day.  While I stab letters on the keypad of my computer, shriveled brown leaves twirl in the cold wind outside my study and an unwelcome draft bends the flame of the candle on my desk.  A candle represents many things to me: warmth, illumination, spontaneity.  But more than anything it reminds me of the living Spirit of God.  When John of the Cross wrote of the flame of the Spirit he ennobled the humble candle flame.  So a candle burns today.

As I write, I think of the snowy days to come—and of you—and of how we share this moment.  Yes, this moment, this one in which the words on my computer screen become the words on yours.  This very moment—we share.  And it is an incredible moment.  Why?  Because in this moment we have the privilege of sliding down into the solitude of our souls and touching God.  I am not one who believes we can comprehend God with our minds, but I do believe the Spirit that dwells within us—the flame that burns—invites us into a kind of knowing, an illumination, which goes beyond human reason and satisfies our souls.  To know God intimately in that quiet place is, to me, everything—the purpose of existence, the ultimate gift of grace, the dream of eternity.

What amazes me is that you and I can crawl into that Divine Embrace right now.  We have neither to gather more knowledge, accomplish more goals, nor climb closer to perfection.  We have simply to surrender in silent awareness to the God who surrounds and fills us.

In that embrace we find love.  Not a theology of love, but love itself, for God is love.  I don’t know much about God, but I know God has the power to transmit the reality of love to us in a way that heals our wounds, calms our fears, and if we let it, throws us into a love affair with all creation.  What better foundation for life and ministry than this?  Imagine a leader who lifts even the most defeated.  Imagine a teacher who heals with her words.  Imagine a musician whose song embraces the lost.  Imagine that every action we take—down to the least significant—flows out of Divine Love. 

I know what Christian leadership is like.  I know that all too often it’s a frantic race to an ever-moving finish line.  I know what tyrants goals and finances and deadlines can become.  I know we need strategies and practical information.  I know that quiet moments can seem like a waste of precious time.  But I also know—I know—that we all read words like these with a wistful longing, with a painful desire for what Thomas Kelly calls “life beyond the fevered strain.” 

That is what this moment offers us.  That is what Jesus lived and died to give us: the privilege of knowing God and being transformed by God’s very present Presence. 

Is this not why we devote ourselves to building God’s church?  Is this not why we plan programs and write sermons and start new ministries?  Is it not so that more and more people can share this moment—this very moment—with you and me?  So they too can close the book, turn off the computer, set aside the agenda, step beyond the temporal—and let the flame of the Spirit warm their souls?  Is this not why? 

| page 1 of 1 |