What if this is as good as it gets?
What?
This. Here. Now. What if THIS is eternity? Not then, not there, not somewhere else.
This.
Some years ago, as I was heading to work on a cold winter morning, an idea popped into my head: God wanted to visit with me. A picture of a railroad bridge came to my mind — very specific, with two arches. I didn’t give it much of a thought, but then — what — I decided to move the clutter from the passenger seat when I thought of how, under the arches of that bridge, a Presence was there.
Weird. Silly. You know, road to Emmaus thing. My mind drifted to work things and I didn’t give it much thought.
As I drove, however, I passed a suspiciously familiar railroad bridge, and under it, a homeless man was hitchhiking. I kept on my way for a bit, then that vision came back into my head.
Uh oh.
I turned around, went back, and picked up this wayfarer. And I listened…I truly believed at that moment that this might be the Man.
Well. Not much there. He needed a ride for a few miles, and I dropped him off. There was no message, no deep meaning. I have no idea why that vision came to my mind, because I was left disappointed.
I didn’t meet God that morning.
Or did I?
Later in the day, I talked with my spiritual mentor at the time and asked him about this experience. He shrugged it off: “One of God’s children needed a ride on a cold morning, and you were there. What’s the big deal?”
Without realizing it, I answered someone’s prayer. God was not the passenger alone, but I was god in a moment without realizing it. And yes, that wayfarer was god to me, and I didn’t realize it either.
I missed the meaning of the moment because because I was looking beyond…THIS.
Yeah, what IF “this” is as good as it gets?
This morning I was reading Richard Rohr’s daily meditation (linked below), and resonated so much with the idea of “thisness”. He says:
“In a word, this is contemplation: to look at reality with a primary gaze of love. Contemplation has been described as “a long, loving look at the Real.” [2] Nondual consciousness is learning how to be present to what is right in front of me, to the Now, exactly as it is, without splitting or dividing it, without judgment, analysis, or resistance. We must say yes before we offer any no!”
…To be present to what is right in front of me…exactly as it is…without judgment, analysis, or resistance…
This…is really powerful stuff.
This…is not what we typically do in our religious life, as we judge and are judged, as we desire “eternal life” as an eventual goal, as we contemplate “perfection” as our eventual state.
Even our sacred songs in our LDS church focus on the big prize outside of this. To quote many believers’ favorite hymn “I believe in Christ”, we sing, “With Him, I’ll gain my fondest dream” or “a voice is heard ‘Ye shall obtain’.”
We are driven to worship a God and Christ whose perfection and glory is “not us,” and what we may eventually gain.
And we’re not alone. The religious ideal in abrahamic religions is to transcend *this* worldly fallen state and through grace, after death of course, to go to heaven where we will finally have bliss and no suffering.
There is merit to the Buddhist idea that our desires lead to suffering. Yet for many who are attracted to eastern thought and practice, there is still a journey to *that*: the end goal for many is to achieve a state of enlightenment, of nirvana/a release moksha from the illusion of *this* material existence.
Ironically, the experience at the Boddhi tree where Gautama became Buddha wasn’t that he *gained* enlightenment, but rather, realized that enlightenment is found here, now, in THIS very moment. In THIS very place.
This…is as good as it gets.
I might say that this is a pretty depressing thought. Or is it?
I have had a perfectly awful week. My wife’s health is terrible, and to top it off, my dad had a stroke. So, I have been completely taken with issues around all this.
As I was getting my dad admitted into the emergency room, I sat down with the busy admissions clerk, looked her in the eye, and had a moment of eternity.
We often ask, “how are you doing,” without really wanting an answer — it’s a throw away. What if, instead of throwing words around without meaning, we really embraced the interchange with another human being, as if in that moment, we are speaking with god? Or in that moment, that harried person trying to do their job with all sorts of pressure, might need a bit of kindness, a bit of grace? Can I be a loving god in that moment to her?
I mean, kind of like the wayfarer under the railroad bridge.
We Mormons think of the most sacred moment in our most sacred space — a conversation at the veil with god. What if every moment, even the most mundane, is a conversation with god?
Is it so far fetched to think that *this* is that moment?
Is it so blasphemous to consider that *this* person with whom I am interacting, indeed, the least of these, is the very god of all creation?
We call ourselves “children of god,” and our Mormon doctrines have made that quite literal. I like the idea. Except the fallacy I seem to practice is that I forget that each and every human being is exactly in the same mode: a divine child of god, and eternal intelligence, co-eternal with god. Mormons also speak of the Light of Christ, given to *every* person on the earth.
In *this* moment, speaking with *this* person, what would change in my behavior if I considered that *this* is the conversation at the veil? This is the moment I connect with god.
What would change if I realized *this*?
Would I be so casual with my throw-away words?
Would I be dismissive of this person’s divinity?
Would I be kind?
Would I be respectful?
Would I be loving?
Would I be a Friend?
This changes everything for me. When I realize the promised joy of meeting god in that Celestial world is not a far-off event, but rather a way of life — here, now, in embracing another human being in *this* very moment.
This is as good as it gets.
This is eternity.
Notes:
This image is the actual bridge near Fort Belvoir, Virginia, referenced in the post. It is surrounded by a military base with no direct access to this road or location for miles in either direction, making it a very unusual place for a homeless hitchhiker. The bridge was demolished in 2014, but stood as a historic marker for nearly 90 years.
Richard Rohr’s meditation on Thisness:
https://cac.org/irreplaceable-thisness-2018-03-18/?fbclid=IwAR2Y-zbljKSe-MHjwSMkHJ2Lhs8mz7_yaoyyxUDouxPcXs7wVdM0dD50E9g