Now: the greatest gift of all

The word ‘present’ has two important meanings. One means ‘now’, the current time and situation. The other means ‘gift’, something given to us or to another. I am increasingly convinced that the two meanings are deeply inter-related. The present time is a great gift. Indeed, I have come to think that it is all we have. To receive what is, what is now, and that we are here and now, is a gift: and to see it this way is to know how richly gifted we are.

It is sometimes thought that older people wish to live in the past. Yes, we may tell stories and call to mind events that were important for us, or things we have done or people we once knew. Memory is a great gift, most of the time, though it is also true that some memories remain painful and distressing. It may be that older people focus on the past because the present is difficult. Life is no longer as enjoyable as it was. We may be lonely, having lost many of those who shared those joys with us. And we may well think we have little to look forward to.

In the same way, we can also live with our focus always on the future. This has been a feature of much of my professional life. All kinds of institutions and businesses are managed through mission statements, strategic plans, and measurable outcomes. It is rightly said that if you aim at nothing, you will achieve your goal every time.

Yes. But this is not the best way to understand our lives as human beings.

I have been deeply shaped by Jürgen Moltmann’s theology of hope. Faith is orientated towards an anticipated situation, an expectation for peace and justice, the renewal of creation and human life within it. All this is revealed, Moltmann argued, through the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. That revelation is not only something in the past. Rather, that was an event that transformed the entire idea of history: it created and creates a future, towards which all life and history is orientated. And that anticipated future reaches into the present, inspiriting, provoking, enabling those who sense its possibility. That future creates a present.

Moltmann saw these dynamics in the whole thrust of biblical faith, which he called a history of promise. For me, one beautiful expression of this is found in that part of the book of Isaiah addressed to exiles in Babylon, some time in the 6^th century BCE. The prophet wrote: ‘Do not remember the former things, or cling to the things of old; I am about to do a new thing, now it springs forth from the bud, do you not see it?’ (Is. 43. 19)

So for me the present is the gift. There is need for a crucial balance here: the present is defined as that time between past and future.

I have come to sense how much a ‘future-orientated’ vision of life, with all our plans and strategies, can in fact rob us of the reality of the present time. We actually have no other time. We are here, now. Literally we have no other time, and we may well not be here tomorrow. In many parts of the world this is a practical reality forced upon all people, through violence, oppression, deprivation. Still, it is true for us all. The only time we have is now and this time is rich in gifts and potential.

The challenge of Moltmann’s theology is to live in the present as the gift made possible not only by our past but also by a future hope.

Our past may be a good foundation for the present, and if so that is a great gift: things such as health, family, comforts and security. We may have a less ‘secure’ sense of our future—and indeed so much in the world today gives good reason for concern. We need to do so much more to ensure the future of life on this planet—or rather we need to cease so many things we are doing that are destroying that future life, for those who come after us.

All this is the present, the now. We have challenges and we have opportunities, and together we need to embrace them. Now is the only time we have. We cannot live in the past and we cannot live on the ‘never-never’, as if borrowing meaning and security from the future.

Now is the time, and my conviction is that as we accept and affirm this, we find that we live in a beautiful, though also dangerous, world filled with potential. The seasons turn. Just now, spring is hinting at warmth and growth. Life goes on, whether we notice it or not. We do not control any of this. We can only engage with it, notice it, and give thanks for it.

The greatest gift of all is the present.

When we were children in primary school, every day the class roll was called. As each name was called, a person was expected to answer: ‘present’. What that meant was something literal, that we were in class and not home sick or absent for some other reason. What it meant, too, is that we were together. We were present to each other, something we only realised when a name was called but not answered. Yes, we missed that person.

This daily ritual is indeed how it is for us, here and now. We are invited to answer ‘present’, in thankfulness and hope. Together we are receiving this life, the present, and together we can know the greatest gift of all.