Kierkegaard described the moment (øjeblikket, or ‘the glance of an eye’, that is, the moment of seeing) as:
‘not properly an atom of time but an atom of eternity … It is the first reflection of eternity in time, its first attempt, as it were, at stopping time … The moment is that ambiguity in which time and eternity touch each other, and with this the concept of temporality is posited, whereby time constantly intersects eternity and eternity constantly pervades time … The fullness of time is the moment as the eternal, and yet this eternal is also the future and the past.’
Isn’t he right that the eternal can only come into the world through the moment? But what do we know of the eternal?
The moment as both homecoming and an opening to something unthinkable. No matter how often you turn from it, it’s there, at the heart of time – isn’t it first of all the revelation of time itself? And on the other side of the moment, touching its edges? Something infinitely greater, perhaps – the first and last God, which makes the moment, so vast to you, seem like a speck.