Time and the Clock

Genesis 1:1-5 – “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth… And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.”

Have you ever noticed that God created time on the very first day of creation? By doing so, He established time as sacred, setting it apart to mark His will and the order He intended for creation. Through this act, God gave humanity the experience of time as part of a divine plan, and in doing so, He forever removed mankind’s dominion over it. While humans can control space, time remains God’s domain while space is our realm to navigate and shape.

In this class, we discussed several times about the diminishing role of God in modern life. We were trying to come to understand how this happened. What invention or philosophy was or is going to be the cause of the irrelevance of God? Was it the printing press, or perhaps the computer? Was it the internet, or will AI be the final straw that will drive God into extinction? 

For today, I would like to discuss with you the invention that has caused us to lose much of our reverence for God. It is actually none of the ones that we have discussed before and in fact its invention preceded all of them. The fourteenth century invention that weakened our reverence for and reliance on God was…. The mechanical clock! Distinguished among other previous clocks, such as the sun dial or water clock, which were subject to the seasons. 

This idea was proposed by Lewis Mumford. Mumford was an American philosopher and historian who was interested in how the invention of machines transformed our societies and ways of life into capitalism. And the first machine that facilitated this transformation: the clock. 

Before the mechanical clock, time was natural, organic—a cycle governed by the seasons, the rising and setting of the sun, and the natural rhythms of the human body. People ate when they were hungry, slept when they were tired, and worked when the light was available. This was “organic time,” beyond human manipulation. It was an experience dictated by nature. And in this timeless flow, God was everywhere, woven into the very fabric of existence.

Mumford says all of this changed upon the invention of the clock. Time stopped being “organic” and became “abstract”. Time stopped being a lived experience and became a concept.

“By its essential nature, the clock has dissociated time from human events and helped create the belief in an independent world of mathematically measurable sequences. With the invention of the clock, we are able to quantify and measure time, and this transformed our living reality.”

Mumford goes on to say that the clock is the most important machine to the creation of the capitalist society we live in. Think about it this way: When we divided the 24-hour day into two 12-hour shifts, one for the day and the other for the night, we invented wicks, chimneys, lamps, gaslight, electric lamps, so as to use all the hours belonging to the day.

This is Mumford again:

“When we think of time not as a sequence of experiences, but as a collection of hours, minutes, and seconds, the habits of adding time and saving time come into existence. Time takes on the character of an enclosed space: it could be divided, it could be filled up, it could even be expanded by the invention of labor-saving instruments.”

We have basically made time into space and declared our dominion over it. When we make time into a space, we have an illusion of control over it. In reality, we are the ones who are now time-slaves. 

Time is now a commodity (a product, something that can be traded, bought and sold) and not an experience. As the saying goes, time is money, and your worth as a human being is calculated based on your hourly rate. The clock has synchronized our actions, we go to work at 8 and finish at 5, and then get stuck in rush hour traffic. We eat, not when we feel hungry, but when the clock says it’s time to do so and we sleep and wake up not by our organic functions, but by the tyranny of the clock. 

Mumford would like you to think of the clock as a machine, much like a printing machine or a vacuum cleaner, but instead of producing printed paper or vacuum for cleaning, what the clock produces is the seconds and minutes of our lives. When it does that, your experiences, emotions, and life events are now dictated by the ticking of the clock. 

When time became quantifiable, it lost its sacredness. When the clock standardized time, we stopped looking for God in the everyday experiences of our lives. God became more distant and harder to find. It is not just God that we have lost touch with, we are also not in touch with ourselves anymore. We are in a constant race against time. We imagine that our quantifiable achievements are going to shield us from our death, and we are in a rush to accumulate as many of those achievements as possible. We do not accept the organic cycle of life that goes through birth, growth, development, decay, and death and we try to defy it by adding to it as much more time as possible. 

Seeking control and wanting to know everything are ingrained human tendencies. But the question is: how much have we lost because of our need to be in control of everything? By trying to control time, we turned the sacred into the profane. Instead of living life naturally, the clock made our lives artificial. 

God occupies the Eternal. The Eternal is a measure of time, but it cannot be measured by mechanical time. We have to leave the time produced by the clock behind, and instead listen to what God is telling us-through our experiences, emotions, encounters, and the unencumbered moment to moment living.

When we live in the present, we come to understand that our experiences shape the essence of each moment. When we say “a moment”, we usually assume it to be short and fleeting. We think that if we quantify the moment, it will probably be in milliseconds to seconds. But this is not true. The moment can span far longer than that. Only after we exit the moment, we realize how long it took in mechanical time. Instead of the clock commanding what experience or feeling I’m supposed to have now (hungry, sleepy, focused), my experience or feeling determines how long the moment will be. This is something that we do encounter these days, but instead of it being the rule, it is the exception. 

Living in the moment creates possibilities, endless possibilities. Every moment is a chance for renewal, for exiting the status quo. That’s where God comes in the picture because every moment is a moment of creation. We can never know how the next moment will look like. We can only live fully in the present moment.

What directs my experiences is God, but these are my experiences, and they are leading the moment. Living this way, we become co-creators. Not because of our capacity for creation, but because we allow ourselves to be tools for God creative abilities by allowing ourselves to be guided by the eternal rhythm of the divine. We are the brushes that God uses to draw on the canvas of time. Our actions, choices and experiences are like chisels carving the sculpture of eternity. Each brushstroke or chisel mark contributes to the unfolding of a large, cosmic picture. This opens up a new vision of life. Life is not a series of isolated events but an intricate dynamic process in which we are active participants. Having faith in this reality, in our relationship with God and the rest of creation, empowers us to fully engage with our moments, knowing that even through our smallest actions, we contribute to a grand and sacred creation. We may not be able to ever see the full picture, but I believe it is possible to see small parts of the canvas of time and appreciate its tremendous beauty.

In summary, to truly experience life, we must reconnect with the present moment. Without the pressure of clocks, there is more room for spontaneity, reflection, and authentic human connection, which allows for a deeper experience of time. This is a rich and profound way to live—one that celebrates the sacredness of the moment, undistracted by the urgency and control that modern clocks impose. Living in natural time means having true freedom. Living in the moment is living in the presence of God. Because we can only find God in the present moment, not the past, nor the future. 

So, how can we live a more natural life in a world ruled by the clock?

I have some suggestions. First thing is we have to recognize and admit that we cannot control time. It is out of our hands. But letting go of our control over time does not mean losing it or missing out as the culture may get us to think. It may have the opposite effect instead and get us to appreciate it much more than we do now.

The second suggestion is to have a weekly time set for rest. From the beginning of time, God instituted a sacred time of rest. God created the heavens and earth in six days and rested on the seventh day. The rest for God here is symbolic. It is to teach us that we need this rest. In the bible, this time was called the sabbath, and it starts from sundown on Friday until sundown on Saturday. During this time for rest, there is suspension of business as usual. This day is not about me and what I do with my time, it is about connecting with God and with ourselves on a deeper level. It is a spiritual time, time of being in nature, surrounded by loved ones, and doing good in the world.

The third suggestion is to put more emphasis on living in the moment, on being present. This is one of the major teachings of Eastern religions. And Jesus taught that in Matthew 6:34 – “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Living in the moment just means acknowledging the moment, appreciating it, and being grateful for it. Consider this moment. It is a precious moment. We are very lucky to be here in the company of each other. It is unfortunate that this is the exception rather than the rule as the western world suffers from a loneliness epidemic. 

The final suggestion is to recognize the power of reflecting back on time. This is one of the most profound aspects of time. It is very hard to see the impact of our actions and experiences in the present moment. However, through the passage of time, reflecting back on where we started and where we ended up is able to reveal to us who we are and what truly matters in our lives. Additionally, if we look back with faith, we begin to piece together the grandeur painting of God, the sculpture of our existence. It is in this reflection that we can see God’s grace, and in doing so, we come to see the very face of God.

(Credits are also due to Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death, 1985.)

C-J: I think children do this very well—this living in the moment and experiencing. As we get older, we develop structured lives to be productive, and then we have to learn how to see through the lens of a child again. It’s only by seeing through the lens of a child, through the creativity all around us, that we can reconnect with that energy in play—even if we don’t see it visibly, like the life force of a tree flowing from its roots up to its leaves. We don’t see that happening, but we know it cognitively because we’ve been taught through science.

When we become adults, we go through a second phase of growing. with growth spurts at ages two, seven, and again around 23 years old. Then, as we get older and step off that treadmill of running and producing, we finally have time to reflect on our lives. That’s the phase I think you’re speaking of—a transitional place in life. When I listen to you, I can see that very clearly. You’re seeking not just religious faith but a relationship with God. That causes you to think differently.

You’re leaning in and recognizing that the stories are only the doorway. And as we each walk through those doors, our experience with God and that relationship will be unique. For Daoists, who always see life through a different lens, it’s always in play. But in Western civilization, we tend to see it through our tools and productivity. For example, we say, “I learned this today, and it’s concrete.” But children don’t think concretely—they think experientially.

Carolyn: I remember experiencing this business of time during a Sabbath. We were snowed in. Suddenly, it was like, “Oh, we have no place to go. We can’t get our cars out. We can’t do this or that. We’re going to have to have Sabbath School at home.”

The snow became connected to our Heavenly Father and the gifts He gives us. We had the chance to put on our big boots, go out in the snow, and see the beauty God gave us. Our children saw it too, through the eyes of someone who wasn’t looking at their watch or listening to anything but the stillness of a beautiful snowy day that God provided.

That’s where I felt time stood still, and I had that awe—that deep sense of what a beautiful God we have.

Donald: A snow day is an interruption to what we had planned otherwise. However, there are also self-induced or defined moments of interruption. Retirement, for example. When I thought of retirement in my 50s, I probably envisioned only about 10 years of life after work—just being retired from something. But as time goes on, you move into another stage of simply being older, and then into yet another phase where it’s about just keeping the wheels on the car, so to speak.

Retirement gives an interesting perspective on time, though it may feel a little distant from what Michael expressed so well earlier about how structuring time digitally or mechanically changed our relationship with God.

Michael: Without the clock, we just lived by our natural experiences. But with the clock, we know what we’re supposed to be doing now, and it’s as if the clock is telling us how to live, instead of our living through nature and the experiences we’re having. It was much easier to see God’s hand in my life then than it is right now.

Donald: Life was certainly slower before we brought mechanisms—or mechanics—into our lives, or at least we think it was. We romanticize about it a bit. When I was a child, my favorite class was recess! So, I’m not sure we need to beat ourselves up too much about being productive, because God does suggest that we need to work with all our might and do it well.

When did we start wearing time? I guess the pocket watch was the first timepiece people carried with them. Adventists are huge on time, though. We build our church around time: the seventh day, the 144,000, the 28 beliefs—the list is long. We take time and elevate it to what seems like a new level of importance.

David: The holiday season that just passed brought the issue of time to mind because it was over in the blink of an eye. I remember as a child, Christmas seemed to last forever—at least, for a long, joyous time. But now, if I blink, Thanksgiving and Christmas are gone.

A critical point has been raised about the difference in how children and adults perceive time. Infants can’t even tell time. They have no concept of hours, minutes, or the clock time of day. But as we grow older, we become more and more conscious of time and the clock. We learn to tell time, to live by the clock. Yet Jesus told us to become like little children—and children live in the moment. The further back you go toward birth, the more you are living in the moment.

But this raises a tricky question: What is the relationship between God and the infant? It can’t be the same as the relationship you have as a church-going adult. Are we missing something really, really important here?

The only issue I’d take with what Michael said is about eternity being measurable. I think eternity is, by definition, immeasurable. Eternity includes all of time. The very fact that God created time means that God must exist outside of time. He had to have been outside it in order to create it, and He will outlast it. When time ends, God will still exist. But I do agree with Michael’s central argument: living in the moment is what God wants us to do.

With respect to Donald’s comments on retirement: I’d differentiate between retirement as an institution and retirement as a shift in occupation—leaving one job for another. Many people are retired yet remain fully occupied. So, it’s really a matter of occupation rather than retirement.

Donald: I don’t mind doing a project. In fact, it distracts me from more difficult challenges, so I impose them on myself. But if I start doing them back-to-back, so that I’m constantly distracted from reality, I guess that’s a different matter. It also means I might be distracted from things of the spirit.

We can fill our time so completely that we leave no room for anything else. But that’s something we do to ourselves.

C-J: On the question of becoming children again: It’s organic, tied to the energy and the entity that’s trying to survive. This living resource needs food, oxygen, shelter—all those things necessary for life. But in the spiritual world, in the ethereal realm of energy that we cannot see—dark matter and all of that—the continuum is always in play. It’s in motion, constantly impacting cause and effect and everything around it.

We see ourselves as finite and very concrete, but the universe is just another reality, as we understand it. The cosmos is very different—it’s dynamic in its energy. That’s what I mean when I say it’s organic and dynamic. If we can sidestep our limited place in time—this slice we define by the sun rising and our solar system’s rotations—it reveals that the seasons and the cosmos operate on a much larger energy.

Our brains are very concrete, but reality is fluid. Things drop off, change shape, and shift in matter and relationships. God, however, is the constant, the driving force behind it all in our belief system. How we view that constant evolves over time.

When I was a little girl, the concept was simple: God loved me. That was all I needed to know. As I grew older, I realized God was in control of my life, and I had the choice to be on board or not. Now, looking back, I see clearly that God was controlling it all along. I think we set expectations for ourselves, but we don’t fully understand who God is. He is an identity, a force. We project our understanding onto God, and that shapes our perception. David might have something to add to this.

Carolyn: In many respects, I feel like if I don’t have a to-do list made the night before, I’m lost the next day. At the same time, I find it antagonistic—whether I have a list or not. When I sit down to worship, it’s very hard to keep my eyes and thoughts on the Lord instead of my to-do list.

I could be a working woman, a retired woman, or in any stage of life, but so much of this is self-imposed. We want to control our time, especially when we want each day to have dedicated time with the Lord. But sometimes my brain just drifts and drifts. Other times, it’s joyous and wonderful, and I wish it could be like that all the time. Yet the clock tells me things. The weather tells me things.

It reminds me of being a child—when the streetlights came on, it was time to go home, and everything stopped. I was on my parents’ time, not my own. Now, I long for that kind of time with the Lord, where everything stops, and I can just breathe the breath He has given me.

David: I count myself as a drifter. What you said about just letting your mind go and marveling at the beauty of creation—that’s spirituality. In contrast, the to-do list feels like a worldly necessity to help us get through a day in this mortal life. A list that starts with “1. Morning prayers, 2. Change the baby’s diaper…” seems a bit off, somehow.

Reinhard: Paul talked about making the most of our time, as mentioned in Ephesians 5:16, where it says, “Make the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil.” This resonates with me. As created beings, we are naturally focused on how God created the whole universe, including us. I believe that those who have faith in God accept the idea that we are not here by chance—God has a purpose for each of us.

Given that, what should we do with the time we are given? When we think about our lifespan in concrete terms, it’s humbling. For example, if we live to be 80 years old, that’s about 30,000 days, or roughly 700,000 hours. If someone reaches 100, they live around 36,500 days. This life is very short compared to the eternity that follows.

I recently read an article in The Wall Street Journal written by the founder of Panera Bread. He talked about a concept he called “pre-mortem reflection.” The idea is that we shouldn’t wait until the “ninth inning,” with only a little time left, to prepare for the end of our lives. Instead, we need to prepare early—maybe in the “second” or “fifth inning.” For those of us who believe in God, that means staying in a constant relationship with Him. While we are still healthy and active, we need to live with intention and be ready for what comes next.

Ecclesiastes 3 reminds us of the cycles of life: “A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to uproot…” Life includes moments of joy and pain, beginnings and endings. As Christians, I believe our purpose is clear: to stay connected to God, to live in worship, and to share His love with others.

We have responsibilities—jobs to do, tasks to complete—but as we grow older, our focus should shift. We need to prepare for the end of this mortal life by maintaining a strong relationship with our Creator and living in alignment with His will.

Ron Shaich’s article served as a powerful reminder. He reflected on his life and emphasized the importance of being prepared, of doing the right thing while we are still alive. This is what I believe God wants from us: to stay in close relationship with Him, to worship Him, and to share His love with those around us—family, friends, and anyone in need. We should strive to do good with the time we’ve been given.

David: Who has a closer relationship with God: the newborn baby or the newly retired 65-year-old out on the golf course?

Reinhard: A baby doesn’t yet know about life or about God. I think as we grow older—through our teenage years and into adulthood—we become more focused on our lives and our relationship with God. When we’re young, we don’t think much about God or our spiritual connection. But as Christians, we read the Bible, listen to the Word of God, and, with age, we become more in tune with Him and what He wants from us. At this stage of life, I think we are more focused and more aware of our relationship with God.

C-J: I think it’s arrogant of humanity to believe we are the only ones with a relationship with God. An amoeba has a relationship with God, just as a baby does. The baby is completely dependent on the provision of God, and so is the amoeba. It doesn’t have consciousness or the ability to change its environment—it just moves along and responds to whatever it encounters.

Similarly, we are all dependent on God. Without oxygen, none of us could survive. We’ve always been dependent on Him. What we try to do is understand our environment so we can continue to survive. Then we start adding layers of cause and effect, learning, and adapting. But at the core, it’s pretty simple. We’re all like amoebas, single-celled creatures, except we have more cells and more specialized purposes. Still, we are entirely dependent on God.

Donald: Some terms we use to describe time include literal time, God’s time, the right time, and the end of time. Apparently, we think naming it helps us understand it. Do we really think God sleeps? Actually, sleeping is a very useful part of a person’s life. Try going a few days without sleep and see how that works out! When I lay down to rest, my body recovers. But God exists outside of time.

Don: Is the measurement of time a condition of the Fall?

C-J: I don’t think so. We just live in a solar system, that’s all I know. The Fall is a human concept. Why do some people get blessed while others don’t? Humanity often confuses reality with constructs we create based on what we experience through our brains and senses. But no, God is grace.

Don: I think the measurement of time is a condition of the Fall. Consider what we now wear on our wrists—it used to be just a mechanical clock, but now it’s something that introduces even more control. Time itself has become a force of interruption. We get messages instantly that used to wait until the end of the day. Now, those messages can interrupt us at any time, day or night. Whether our control of time is getting worse or better depends on your perspective.

Reinhard: I think the Fall of Adam and Eve had something to do with time, because after the Fall, they would die. The Bible records that Adam lived to be 900 years old. But because of sin and the Fall, the lifespan of humans on Earth became limited.

David: I like to think of the differences between the world before and after the Fall. Before the Fall, it was a spiritual world; after the Fall, it became a material world of bodies and cells—which, to me, seem to have no bearing on the spiritual world whatsoever. What we lost was the ability to live fully in the spiritual world. However, according to Christianity, that ability is regained through salvation. So, by that understanding, we’ve really lost nothing, except that we must endure this painful* sojourn through time on Earth. Once we get past that, we will be back in the spiritual world for good.

Donald: We often say that Adam and Eve’s work before the Fall was to tend the garden. That was their life’s purpose.

Carolyn: The Tower of Babel changed the world in terms of communication, and I wonder if the clock has similarly changed the world. We depend on time so much now. I’d like to understand the positive side of this dependence, because I’m sure the Lord allowed the Tower of Babel to be stopped by creating a communication problem. Somehow, time seems connected in my mind to communication.

We’re so obsessed with doing things in a set way and at a set time. But what is the benefit of this, and what are the negatives? That little watch on your arm—or the device in your hand—can feel indispensable, yet at times, you just want to throw it away. I imagine the people building the Tower of Babel felt a similar frustration—they couldn’t understand what it was all about anymore.

Where does God sit in all of this? How are we managing our time and our communication? I think we need to weigh the positives and negatives of the whole concept of time. After all, the Lord has given us time, so there must be a balance to find.

C-J: The Bible is very clear: “Lean not unto your own understanding.” We are innately hungry for the spiritual world and the divine. It’s built into our DNA. We seek the light—it’s just intuitive. But we keep trying to impose humanity over it, leaning on our own understanding.

When we relax, though, and do what many of us have talked about today—letting the warmth of the sun wash over us on a summer day, lying on a blanket, imagining shapes in the clouds, or looking at a newborn baby and feeling an incredible love and sense of responsibility—those moments remind us of something deeper. This is our domain during this time on Earth, but it’s temporary.

We will transcend this finite existence and become spirit. Holy Spirit. But for now, we inhabit these finite bodies, with all their responsibilities, and we must care for them while we’re here.

Donald: I’ve had the good fortune of experiencing East Africa many times. Just last week, I met a gentleman from Malawi, and we got talking. I couldn’t help but grin as I thought about my experiences in Africa. I’ve always recognized that I’m a traveler, not a native, but having gone so many times and taken hundreds of students with me, I’ve noticed a common first impression: “They don’t live like we do.”

The instinct is to think, “I want to raise that up. I want to organize this. I want to build something. I want to structure time into their lives.” But over the course of a couple of weeks, something happens. You realize, they have something we don’t.And you can’t quite put your finger on it.

What I expressed to the gentleman last Sabbath was my takeaway from those experiences. It’s simplistic, but I think it gets to the heart of it: they have hospitality. True hospitality. It’s throwing time out the window and saying, “Hi, how are you?”—and actually meaning it, not just saying, “Good,” and walking away. Hospitality is something that emerges when time slows down. But when time speeds up, hospitality disappears entirely from our language and our lives.

C-J: And if you go into their homes, they’re uncluttered. There’s a rug on the floor, a table, a bed, and maybe something to cook on—though it’s usually outside. Their lives are extremely simple. They aren’t bombarded with the distractions we deal with. They live close to the Earth and understand that life is temporary.

They’re a different kind of traveler—spiritual travelers. They mourn loss, they mourn the effects of aging and disease, but they don’t shy away from it. In America, we dress it up, put it away in another building, and try not to look at it. We decorate graves with pretty headstones, but death has many faces, and it can be quite ugly and dangerous. For them, it’s just part of life. They accept it for what it is.

Donald: In America, storage units are everywhere. We don’t even have enough space in our homes for all our stuff.

C-J: I watch a lot of foreign films, and their homes are small. The idea of a storage unit is foreign to them. They understand that life is temporary. Here, we don’t want life to be temporary—we want to have power and authority over everything.

Kiran: I read an article recently about economic and industrial development across different countries, and it included an insight that I found relevant to our discussion. The observation was that countries closer to the equator are generally less economically developed than those closer to the poles. The reasoning is that in places with harsh winters, people can’t produce anything during that time, so they depend entirely on what they store from the summer. This forces a different perspective on time and productivity.

In contrast, countries like India, where crops can be grown year-round, don’t have the same sense of urgency. In the West, we have storage units because we’re conditioned to prepare for the future. In India, storage units aren’t as necessary because there’s always another crop coming.

When you look at productivity, Americans work as much as—or more than—Japanese or Koreans. In India, though, things move much slower. What might take a day here could take a month there. It’s frustrating. Whenever I go to India, I feel like pulling my hair out because it’s so inefficient.

The message from the pulpit in India is often, “Look at the ants, look at the bees. Oh, you sluggard!” It’s all about working harder. But in America, the message is the opposite: “Take time off and spend it with your family.”

Michael’s lesson, to me, highlights two key ideas. First, life is about more than the daily grind. It’s not just about earning money, eating, or finding shelter. Life is sacred, and time is divine. Second, I think Michael is approaching the concept of the Sabbath from a non-Adventist perspective, emphasizing the idea of a weekly Sabbath rest. That’s interesting, because for Adventists, it’s usually framed as a commandment, but Michael’s approach feels different.

Don: Since Kiran raised this point—and I think it’s an important one—I wonder if Kiran and Michael might be willing to present something about the Sabbath next week for further discussion.

* * *

* David takes that back. He forgot his earlier argument that life on Earth is not unrelentingly bad or painful for most people; that there is much good to enjoy.