Lost Moment

 

Hayter’s article for Oct 23, 2022

“A lost moment”

Yesterday, I had an epiphany. I’m not sure what Webster calls one of those things, but I consider it to be an experience that allows you insight into something that you would not have recognized otherwise. 

It can be something wise, intelligent, or just ridiculously simple. My insight involved two of those things. It all started with “Thomas Aquinas”. – Hey, don’t leave yet. This is going somewhere.

A couple of days ago, one of those odd factoids popped up on my computer as I was trying to find something about a college football game. All of a sudden, the name and supposed likeness of Thomas Aquinas appeared in the side margin of my screen. Being a historian of sorts, it caught my attention. What I know about Aquinas could fill a small post-it note. All I knew was that he was one of those Greek philosophers. Likely a friend of Aristotle. I was close. Aquinas was a Theologian, born into a wealthy Italian family in 1224 AD. 

At an early age, he ran off and joined an order of Catholic friars who swore an oath of poverty. His oath was trashed after his parents sent his brothers to kidnap him from the friary. With his passion for poverty being averted, Thomas became a popular figure in the Roman Catholic Church. The man wrote volumes. His works were a mandatory read at schools for priests. 

He had been working to complete his greatest work, “Summa Theologica”. We know it as “Theological Summary”. In it, he explained, to the Church’s satisfaction, the relationships between God, Jesus, and humans. 

He had been working on the tome for several years when he gave up on it. Though being pushed to finish the work, he said that he had a moment with God that made all of his writings as valuable as straw. He chose to write no more. He died at the age of 49 in 1274,  yet his incomplete "Summa Theologica" was transcribed by hundreds of priests, without the author’s blessing. 

Aquinas was allowed to see something that, to him, made his life’s work of little value. While I’m not a Catholic, I likely wouldn’t agree with much of his work. One thing of which I am aware, though, is that I am not worthy to shine that man’s sandals. 

Here, I’ve been a writer for over 40 years. I’ve written an article at least once a week since 1980. I’ve written and self-published two books and am editing my third. Over the years, I’ve started four others. There is a good chance my mind will quit working before I delve into any of them again. 

The “epiphany” I mentioned earlier was first planted by the story you just read about the great Theologian. Thomas Aquinas laid the groundwork for an old teacher and writer to interpret one recent incident as being an epiphany. It has to do with my rush to meet Brad Meyer at the gym to play racquetball. I don’t know if you’re aware, but Brad has a low tolerance for lateness.   

As I was running across the parking lot of the recreational facility, I noticed a blind gentleman near the entrance to the gym’s lobby. He was holding a thin metal walking stick nearly as tall as he was. I was watching him try to punch the appropriate buttons on his cell phone. As I approached him, I asked how he was holding up. An awkward greeting to a person with or without sight. 

The man smiled and said, “Not real well at the moment.” I was ahead of him at that time but turned to deliver a response. The man was still smiling and appeared to be at ease, so I told him to “Hang in there.” Then I hurried to the racquetball court. Brad didn’t show up for another five minutes.  

I have been thinking of that gentleman ever since my too-brief encounter. Why did I refuse to stop to help him? A desire not to be late to play racquetball. Had I stopped to help the man, he might’ve said, “Thank you, but I was joking. I know how to do this.” No epiphany there. 

That event took place two days ago, and it continues to hit me hard. The situation that I ignored was more important than any priority I had already established. Hope, dreams, ideas, recognition, fun, racquetball… none of it was nearly as important as me physically stopping to see if I could assist a person who didn’t know his exact location, nor could see the phone in his hand. My priority superseded every thought I had concerning that man’s situation. 

Thomas Aquinas realized that everything he had written was not nearly as important as what he had learned in a brief moment. He was allowed to witness something that made his life’s work appear as valuable as straw. Why was he allowed to witness the epiphany so late in life? 

Me? I was given a chance to see a gentleman I may never see again. Perhaps he was an angel experience. --  ^“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.” 

I had been made aware of the lame priorities I had placed on so many of my life’s actions. It’s by no means the first time I’ve neglected to do the right thing. The latest event just managed to hurt more than the others. And, I can’t do a thing about it… except share the story with you.

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