Close moments

People who are involved with Cursillo speak of “close moments,” but you don’t have to be in Cursillo to have had a similar experience. Surely you have had one, for example.

Close moments refer to those times when an individual feels particularly close to Jesus Christ, those times shot through, as it were, with the awareness of God.

These moments can come at any time and can last but an instant or go on for a long time. Nothing I know of in my Christian experience compares with a close moment with Jesus.

It’s helpful to reflect on these times in our experience. They bolster our confidence in times of pain. They are a practical assist to a faith sometimes gone dry. They remind us that God is with us even when it doesn’t seem like it.

I have learned that there is nothing I can do to cause such an experience. Jesus is the Master of the encounter. Indeed, a person doesn’t necessarily have to be a believer. Paul, on the road to Damascus, certainly was no believer. Stories of conversion experiences abound, wherein a hardened sinner turns around owing to a close moment with God.

If Jesus Christ chooses to reveal himself to someone, there doesn’t seem to be much the individual can do about it.

As I grew up, I believed close moments (although I didn’t call them that) were reserved for saintly mystics.

I love the story of St. Francis of Assisi experiencing ecstasy. He cried out, “Enough, Lord, enough!” Apparently that close moment went on and on.

There’s the story of St. Catherine of Sienna being held in such rapture that her sisters believed she was dead. Her confessor had to come and call her back to the real world, so to speak. She cried, the story goes, because she became separated from her union with Christ. Another long one.

I’ve come to find out that Jesus does reveal himself to lowly and unworthy and ordinary persons like me – just plain folks who don’t have a mystical bone in their body.

Let me share with you a couple of close moments.

My son, John, is five. When he was three, my wife, Elizabeth, reported to me what John had told her one morning. She had written it in his baby book.

John said, “He made my sore better! He came into my room last night. He walked in and said, ‘I didn’t know you had a Mickey Mouse bed.’ And He made my sore come out! Jesus did! He called me my name! He called me John!”

Doubtless it was a close moment for John. But I cannot recall that little story without remembering the close moment I had with Jesus the first time I heard it.

Another time, I was returning from Holy Communion. I wasn’t feeling particularly joyful. In fact, I wasn’t feeling much at all. To be sure, I wasn’t running my mouth as I am wont to do. On this occasion, Jesus got a word in edgewise.

I was making my way between chairs toward my seat and everyone began to sing, “Yahweh, I know you are near.” It is not within my power to express to you the experience of what happened in that moment. It was as if my whole being was transformed, from that to this, from the old Tom to the new Tom. I could not stay the same.

Who can say? He touched me. Tears came into my eyes. The experience was physical, mental and spiritual – all encompassing. It was mighty and powerful, yet incredibly gentle and sweet. It was awesome yet peaceful, joyful and life-giving.

I shall always be grateful for the gift of that moment – an instant, really, of eternity.

written by Thomas A. Russell
first published in the Lafayette Sunday Visitor on June 15th, 1986