Transcendant Moments

I am an admirer of the writings of St. Augustine. His awkward recounting of a life that he didn't much care for in retrospect is very touching for me, as I find an echo of my own shortcomings in it.

In Chapter 9 of Confessions, he describes a moment when he and his mother Monica are talking about their faith. As their discussion deepens, the words stop, and they are swept up in a spiritual ecstasy that is nothing short of beatific. Just as quickly, they are let back down to Earth.

Have you ever had that fleeting moment when you were sure God was near, and for just a moment, drew you close to Heaven? Like St. Augustine's moment, these moments never seem to last long, but they do leave a lasting impression.

And when our conversation had brought us to the point where the very highest of physical sense and the most intense illumination of physical light seemed, in comparison with the sweetness of that life to come, not worthy of comparison, nor even of mention, we lifted ourselves with a more ardent love toward the Selfsame, and we gradually passed through all the levels of bodily objects, and even through the heaven itself, where the sun and moon and stars shine on the earth. Indeed, we soared higher yet by an inner musing, speaking and marveling at thy works.

And we came at last to our own minds and went beyond them, that we might climb as high as that region of unfailing plenty where thou feedest Israel forever with the food of truth, where life is that Wisdom by whom all things are made, both which have been and which are to be. Wisdom is not made, but is as she has been and forever shall be; for "to have been" and "to be hereafter" do not apply to her, but only "to be," because she is eternal and "to have been" and "to be hereafter" are not eternal.

And while we were thus speaking and straining after her, we just barely touched her with the whole effort of our hearts. Then with a sigh, leaving the first fruits of the Spirit bound to that ecstasy, we returned to the sounds of our own tongue, where the spoken word had both beginning and end. But what is like to thy Word, our Lord, who remaineth in himself without becoming old, and "makes all things new."