I do not think that the real problem is with time itself, but with the paucity of our imaginations.

God’s time-scale is, like God, unimaginably enormous; the mind falters in the face of it, poised on a ghastly chasm of emptiness. It is easier to write off time than to accept the vast vacuity of its expanses.

There have not yet been a million days since Pentecost and the founding of the Church. ‘We’re such a young Church’, a priest said to me recently when I was complaining about some grossly offensive attempt at Christian articulation, ‘a baby Church. You find the early sentences of young children funny and sweet, why can’t you be patient?’

Sara Maitland