Kairos Quotes

but BEing time is never wasted time. When we are BEing, not only are we collaborating with chronological time, but we are touching on kairos, and are freed from the normal restrictions of time.

Chronos is clocks, deadlines, watches, calendars, agendas, planners, schedules, beepers. Chronos is time at her worst. Chronos keeps track. ...Chronos is the world's time. Kairos is transcendence, infinity, reverence, joy, passion, love, the Sacred. Kairos is intimacy with the Real. Kairos is time at her best. ...Kairos is Spirit's time. We exist in chronos. We long for kairos. That's our duality. Chronos requires speed so that it won't be wasted. Kairos requires space so that it might be savored. We do in chronos. In kairos we're allowed to be ... It takes only a moment to cross over from chronos into kairos, but it does take a moment. All that kairos asks is our willingness to stop running long enough to hear the music of the spheres.

a perception of the cosmic unity of this higher level. And a feeling of timelessness, the feeling that what we know as time is only the result of a naive faith in causality - the notion that A in the past caused B in the present, which will cause C in the future, when actually A, B, and C are all part of a pattern that can be truly understood only by opening the doors of perception and experiencing it... in this moment... this supreme moment... this Kairos.

Life only makes any sense if we can see time how God does. Past, present, and future all at once.

I want my heart to be the thin place. I don't want to board a plane to feel the kiss of heaven. I want to carry it with me wherever I go. I want my fragile, hurting heart, to recognize fleeting kairos, eternal moments as they pass. I want to be my own mountain and my own retreat.

Kairos moment. An' it means," and from somewhere in his soused brain he dredged up words of surprising clarity, "the telling moment. The special moment. The supreme moment.

Ce n'est pas dur à deviner: toutes ces choses qui passent, que nous manquons d'un iota et qui sont ratées pour l'éternité...Toutes ces paroles que nous aurions dû dire, ces gestes que nous aurions dû faire, ces kairos fulgurants qui ont un jour surgi, qu'on n'a pas su saisir et qui se sont enfoncés pour toujours dans le néant...L'échec à un pouce près.

The Greeks believed that time had secret structure. There was the moment of Epiphany when time suddenly opened and something was revealed in luminous clarity. There was the moment of krisis when time got entangled and directions became confused and contradictory. There was also the moment of kairos; this was the propitious moment. Time opened up in kindness and promise. All the energies cohered to offer a fecund occasion of initiative, creativity, and promise. Part of the art of living wisely is to learn to recognize and attend to such profound openings in one’s life.

Franciscan friar Richard Rohr says that there are two kinds of time, at least according to the ancient Greeks. There is chronos—or chronological, ordered time—and then there is kairos. Kairos is subjective, qualitative. Deep Time is what Rohr calls it. A fullness, he says. The moments when the dots of our lives connect.

You were destined in a kairos moment to be God’s poetry in motion, bringing the good works of the supernatural manifestation to a world that is dying to increase in the awe of God, whether they know it yet or not.

Life is a series of changes—a process of going from the old to the new—from chronos to kairos. Growth, change, revival—all are processes. Life is connected. Not understanding this, we tend to despise the chronos times of preparing, sowing, believing and persevering. Our preference is to always live in the kairos times of fresh and strategic opportunities.

Coca-Cola has succeeded, where Marxist philosophy has failed, at uniting the proletarians of all nations under its banner.

If you go back and look at the historical record, it turns out that a lot of important ideas have very long incubation periods. I call this the ‘slow hunch.’ We’ve heard a lot recently about hunch and instinct and blink-like sudden moments of clarity, but in fact, a lot of great ideas linger on, sometimes for decades, in the back of people’s minds. They have a feeling that there’s an interesting problem, but they don’t quite have the tools yet to discover them.” Solving the problem means being in the right place at the right time—available to the propitious moment, the kairos. Perhaps counterintuitively, protecting what is left of this flow from the pressing obligation of new choices gives us a leg up on innovation.

This mood makes itself felt everywhere, politically, socially, and philosophically. We are living in what the Greeks called the καιρóς (Kairos) – the right time – for a “metamorphosis of the gods,” i.e. of the fundamental principles and symbols.

Kairos, the god of fortunate moments, is supposed to have a lock of hair on his forehead, which is the only way of grasping hold of him. Because once the god has slipped past on his winged feet, the back of his head is sleek and hairless, nowhere to grab hold of.

Strange, she thinks, all these years a little bit of my life has gone on existing in this stranger’s head. And now he’s given it back to me.

De liefde is die handeling waarbij iets a-posteriorisch –de bij toeval ontmoette ander– wordt omgezet in een a-priori –de voorwaarde om te kunnen leven–.

Kairos is sacred time, a nonlinear awareness that is an empath’s truer home.

R’bin,” he said, giving up and gazing down at her. “R’bin, d’you know wadda kairos mo…” He hiccoughed. “Mo…moment is?” “A kairos moment?” she repeated, hoping against hope it was not something sexual, something that she would not be able to forget afterwards, especially as the kebab shop owner was listening in and smirking behind them. “No, I don’t. Shall we go back to the office?” “You don’t know whadditis?” he asked, peering at her. “No.” “ ’SGreek,” he told her. “Kairos. Kairos moment. An’ it means,” and from somewhere in his soused brain he dredged up words of surprising clarity, “the telling moment. The special moment. The supreme moment.” Oh please, thought Robin, please don’t tell me we’re having one. “An’ d’you know what ours was, R’bin, mine an’ Charlotte’s?” he said, staring into the middle distance, his unlit cigarette hanging from his hand. “It was when she walk’d into the ward—I was in hosp’tal f’long time an’ I hadn’ seen her f’two years—no warning—an’ I saw her in the door an’ ev’ryone turned an’ saw her too, an’ she walked down the ward an’ she never said a word an,” he paused to draw breath, and hiccoughed again, “an’ she kissed me aft’ two years, an’ we were back together. Nobody talkin’. Fuckin’ beautiful. Mos’ beaut’ful woman I’ve ’ver seen. Bes’ moment of the whole fuckin’—’fmy whole fuckin’ life, prob’bly. I’m sorry, R’bin,” he added, “f’r sayin’ ‘fuckin’.’ Sorry ’bout that.” Robin felt equally inclined to laughter and tears, though she did not know why she should feel so sad.

The way of the Essentialist is to tune into the present. To experience life in kairos, not just chronos. To focus on the things that are truly important—not yesterday or tomorrow, but right now.

It is possible to be so worried about the time (chronos) for something—such as the return of Christ—that we miss the time (kairos) for something—such as living like citizens of the kingdom of God.

Our actions and attitudes in the chronos times of preparing, sowing, believing and persevering are what determine whether God can shift us into the kairos times of fresh and strategic opportunities.

Tick is a humble genesis, tock a feeble apocalypse; and tick-tock is in any case not much of a plot. We need much larger ones and much more complicated ones if we persist in finding 'what will suffice.' And what happens if the organization is much more complex than tick-tock? Suppose, for instance, that it is a thousand-page novel. Then it obviously will not lie within what is called our 'temporal horizon'; to maintain the experience of organization we shall need many more fictional devices. And although they will essentially be of the same kind as calling the second of those two related sounds tock, they will obviously be more resourceful and elaborate. They have to defeat the tendency of the interval between tick and tock to empty itself; to maintain within that interval following tick a lively expectation of tock, and a sense that however remote tock may be, all that happens happens as if tock were certainly following. All such plotting presupposes and requires that an end will bestow upon the whole duration and meaning. To put it another way, the interval must be purged of simple chronicity, of the emptiness of tock-tick., humanly uninteresting successiveness. It is required to be a significant season, kairos poised between beginning and end. It has to be, on a scale much greater than that which concerns the psychologists, an instance of what they call 'temporal integration'--our way of bundling together perception of the present, memory of the past, and expectation of the future, in a common organization. Within this organization that which was conceived of as simply successive becomes charged with past and future: what was chronos becomes kairos. This is the time of the novelist, a transformation of mere successiveness which has been likened, by writers as different as Forster and Musil, to the experience of love, the erotic consciousness which makes divinely satisfactory sense out of the commonplace person.

The development of modern art with its seemingly nihilistic trend towards disintegration must be understood as the symptom and symbol of a mood of universal destruction and renewal that has set its mark on our age. This mood makes itself felt everywhere, politically, socially, and philosophically. We are living in what the Greeks called the "Kairos"-the right moment- for a “metamorphosis of the gods,” of the fundamental principle and symbols. This peculiarity of our time, which is certainly not of our conscious choosing, is the expression of the unconscious man within who is changing. Coming generations will have to take account of this momentous transformation if humanity is not to destroy itself through the might of its own technology and science.

Time has to be converted, then, from chronos, mere chronological time, to kairos, a New Testament Greek word that has to do with opportunity, with moments that seem ripe for their intended purpose. Then, even while life continues to seem harried, while it continues to have hard moments, we say, “Something good is happening amid all this.” We get glimpses of how God might be working out his purposes in our days. Time becomes not just something to get through or manipulate or manage, but the arena of God’s work with us. Whatever happens— good things or bad, pleasant or problematic—we look and ask, “What might God be doing here?” We see the events of the day as continuing occasions to change the heart. Time points to Another and begins to speak to us of God. We

There are two different types of time. Chronos time is what we live in. It’s regular time. It’s one minute at a time, staring down the clock until bedtime time. It’s ten excruciating minutes in the Target line time, four screaming minutes in time-out time, two hours until Daddy gets home time. Chronos is the hard, slow-passing time we parents often live in. Then there’s Kairos time. Kairos is God’s time. It’s time outside of time. It’s metaphysical time. Kairos is those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day, and I cherish them.

Living up to your name, Kairos,” said Ari, wrestling the idea that time was fleeting. A river that could only ever sweep them away. They’d have this night and then the rest of their lives would keep moving, changing. But wherever they went—wherever hope went—new legends would draw mighty swords and fight for better futures.

Be everything you truly are. That’s all I’ll ever ask of you, my silver one.

Y de pronto su amor era tan grande como solo lo puede ser el amor hacia algo que amenaza con perderse.

He is old enough to know how the end likes to set its roots first imperceptibly, then ever more boldly, in the present

What will history’s verdict be about our time?

When we are properly prepared and the time is right, God can shift seasons very quickly. Overnight, it seems, He transforms dry times into rivers, barrenness into fruitfulness and makes a way where there is no way. Timing is a factor; but when it’s right, God causes the shift, and the chronos changes into kairos. Allow this truth to bring faith and encouragement into your situation.

My sorrow forges into something else. My slab of dark sadness begins to heat, cracking its way through whatever hold I had on it. Like coal forming into a diamond, what comes next is crystalline, hardened, and pure. Rage.

When I see these scars, do you know what I really see?” my mate asked. I shook my head. “I see forever with you by my side. Because long after these scars have faded away to nothing, I'll still be standing beside you. You and I? We're eternal.

Even with my eyes shut, the dancing flickers and shadows penetrate through my lids. I try to remind myself it’s just from the fire, but an ever-growing part of me fears it is Hades stoking the pits of the Underworld in preparation for my arrival.

I let my eyelids fall closed. In my mind, Draven’s voice rang out over and over, shouting my name. His voice was more powerful than the sea. More primordial than the stars. My name was on his lips as he promised unspeakable darkness to any who came between us.

Als Präsident Obama den Aufstand als legitime Meinungsäußerung begrüßte, die von der Regierung anerkannt werden müsse, war die Verwirrung komplett. Die Massen in Kairo und Alexandria wollten keine Anerkennung ihrer Forderungen durch die Regierung, deren Rechtmäßigkeit sie rundweg ablehnten. Sie wünschten sich das Mubarak-Regime nicht als Gesprächspartner, sie wollten, dass Mubarak verschwand. Ihr Ziel war nicht nur eine neue Regierung, die ihre Meinung anhören würde, sondern eine Umgestaltung des gesamten Staates. Sie hatten keine »Meinungen «; sie waren die Wahrheit der Situation in Ägypten. (S. 55)

Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese Zen Buddhist monk who has been called the “world’s calmest man,” has spent a lifetime exploring how to live in kairos, albeit by a different name. He has taught it as mindfulness or maintaining “beginner’s mind.” He has written: “Mindfulness helps you go home to the present. And every time you go there and recognize a condition of happiness that you have, happiness comes.”2 This focus on being in the moment affects the way he does everything. He takes a full hour to drink a cup of tea with the other monks every day. He explains: “Suppose you are drinking a cup of tea. When you hold your cup, you may like to breathe in, to bring your mind back to your body, and you become fully present. And when you are truly there, something else is also there—life, represented by the cup of tea. In that moment you are real, and the cup of tea is real. You are not lost in the past, in the future, in your projects, in your worries. You are free from all of these afflictions. And in that state of being free, you enjoy your tea. That is the moment of happiness, and of peace.” Pay attention through the day for your own kairos moments. Write them down in your journal. Think about what triggered that moment and what brought you out of it. Now that you know what triggers the moment, try to re-create it. Training yourself to tune into kairos will not only enable you to achieve a higher level of contribution but also make you happier.

Sounds like an acid head, of course. What they all saw in … a flash was the solution to the basic predicament of being human, the personal I, Me, trapped, mortal and helpless, in a vast impersonal It, the world around me. Suddenly! —All-in-one!—flowing together, I into It, and It into Me, and in that flow I perceive a power, so near and so clear, that the whole world is blind to. All the modern religions, and the occult mysteries, for that matter, talk about an Other World—whether Brahma’s or the flying saucers’—that the rational work-a-day world is blind to. The—so called! friends—rational world. If only they, Mom & Dad & Buddy & Sis, dear-but-square ones, could but know the kairos, the supreme moment … The historic visions have been explained in many ways, as the result of epilepsy, self-hypnosis, changes in metabolism due to fasting, or actual intervention by gods—or drugs: Zoroastrianism

Narratives of progress, regress, and cycles all assume a mechanism by which historical change happens. It might be the natural laws of the cosmos, the will of God, the dialectical development of the human mind or of economic forces. Once we understand the mechanism, we are assured of understanding what really happened and what is to come. But what if there is no such mechanism? What if history is subject to sudden eruptions that cannot be explained by any science of temporal tectonics? These are the questions that arise in the face of cataclysms for which no rationalization seems adequate and no consolation seems possible. In response an apocalyptic view of history develops that sees a rip in time that widens with each passing year, distancing us from an age that was golden or heroic or simply normal. In this vision there really is only one event in history, the kairos separating the world we were meant for from the world we must live in. That is all we can know, and must know, about the past.

Bohr is really doing what the Stoic allegorists did to close the gap between their world and Homer's, or what St. Augustine did when he explained, against the evidence, the concord of the canonical scriptures. The dissonances as well as the harmonies have to be made concordant by means of some ultimate complementarity. Later biblical scholarship has sought different explanations, and more sophisticated concords; but the motive is the same, however the methods may differ. An epoch, as Einstein remarked, is the instruments of its research. Stoic physics, biblical typology, Copenhagen quantum theory, are all different, but all use concord-fictions and assert complementarities. Such fictions meet a need. They seem to do what Bacon said poetry could: 'give some show of satisfaction to the mind, wherein the nature of things doth seem to deny it.' Literary fictions ( Bacon's 'poetry') do likewise. One consequence is that they change, for the same reason that patristic allegory is not the same thing, though it may be essentially the same kind of thing, as the physicists' Principle of Complementarity. The show of satisfaction will only serve when there seems to be a degree of real compliance with reality as we, from time to time, imagine it. Thus we might imagine a constant value for the irreconcileable observations of the reason and the imagination, the one immersed in chronos, the other in kairos; but the proportions vary indeterminably. Or, when we find 'what will suffice,' the element of what I have called the paradigmatic will vary. We measure and order time with our fictions; but time seems, in reality, to be ever more diverse and less and less subject to any uniform system of measurement. Thus we think of the past in very different timescales, according to what we are doing; the time of the art-historian is different from that of the geologist, that of the football coach from the anthropologist's. There is a time of clocks, a time of radioactive carbon, a time even of linguistic change, as in lexicostatics. None of these is the same as the 'structural' or 'family' time of sociology. George Kubler in his book The Shape of Time distinguished between 'absolute' and 'systematic' age, a hierarchy of durations from that of the coral reef to that of the solar year. Our ways of filling the interval between the tick and tock must grow more difficult and more selfcritical, as well as more various; the need we continue to feel is a need of concord, and we supply it by increasingly varied concord-fictions. They change as the reality from which we, in the middest, seek a show of satisfaction, changes; because 'times change.' The fictions by which we seek to find 'what will suffice' change also. They change because we no longer live in a world with an historical tick which will certainly be consummated by a definitive tock. And among all the other changing fictions, literary fictions take their place. They find out about the changing world on our behalf; they arrange our complementarities. They do this, for some of us, perhaps better than history, perhaps better than theology, largely because they are consciously false; but the way to understand their development is to see how they are related to those other fictional systems. It is not that we are connoisseurs of chaos, but that we are surrounded by it, and equipped for coexistence with it only by our fictive powers. This may, in the absence of a supreme fiction-or the possibility of it, be a hard fate; which is why the poet of that fiction is compelled to say From this the poem springs: that we live in a place That is not our own, and much more, nor ourselves And hard it is, in spite of blazoned days.

For Aristotle the literary plot was analogous to the plot of the world in that both were eductions from the potency of matter. Sartre denies this for the world, and specifically denies, in the passage just referred to, that without potentiality there is no change. He reverts to the Megaric view of the matter, which Aristotle took such trouble to correct. But this is not our affair. The fact is that even if you believe in a Megaric world there is no such thing as a Megaric novel; not even Paterson. Change without potentiality in a novel is impossible, quite simply; though it is the hopeless aim of the cut-out writers, and the card-shuffle writers. A novel which really implemented this policy would properly be a chaos. No novel can avoid being in some sense what Aristotle calls 'a completed action.' This being so, all novels imitate a world of potentiality, even if this implies a philosophy disclaimed by their authors. They have a fixation on the eidetic imagery of beginning, middle, and end, potency and cause. Novels, then, have beginnings, ends, and potentiality, even if the world has not. In the same way it can be said that whereas there may be, in the world, no such thing as character, since a man is what he does and chooses freely what he does--and in so far as he claims that his acts are determined by psychological or other predisposition he is a fraud, lâche, or salaud--in the novel there can be no just representation of this, for if the man were entirely free he might simply walk out of the story, and if he had no character we should not recognize him. This is true in spite of the claims of the doctrinaire nouveau roman school to have abolished character. And Sartre himself has a powerful commitment to it, though he could not accept the Aristotelian position that it is through character that plot is actualized. In short, novels have characters, even if the world has not. What about time? It is, effectively, a human creation, according to Sartre, and he likes novels because they concern themselves only with human time, a faring forward irreversibly into a virgin future from ecstasy to ecstasy, in his word, from kairos to kairos in mine. The future is a fluid medium in which I try to actualize my potency, though the end is unattainable; the present is simply the pour-soi., 'human consciousness in its flight out of the past into the future.' The past is bundled into the en-soi, and has no relevance. 'What I was is not the foundation of what I am, any more than what I am is the foundation of what I shall be.' Now this is not novel-time. The faring forward is all right, and fits the old desire to know what happens next; but the denial of all causal relation between disparate kairoi, which is after all basic to Sartre's treatment of time, makes form impossible, and it would never occur to us that a book written to such a recipe, a set of discontinuous epiphanies, should be called a novel. Perhaps we could not even read it thus: the making of a novel is partly the achievement of readers as well as writers, and readers would constantly attempt to supply the very connections that the writer's programme suppresses. In all these ways, then, the novel falsifies the philosophy.

writes Madeleine L’Engle, “in kairos we are completely un-self-conscious and yet paradoxically far more real than we can ever be when we are constantly checking our watches for chronological time.”10

Bending time is about making the most out of chronos—finding more physical time, adding hours to the day, and positioning for a greater number of kairos moments. Bending time is about improving quality of life and productivity within time.

Persnickety!” He tried the door. It didn’t budge. “I really thought that would work,” he said. “Fewmets! Paragon! Ensorcelled! Ovate! Scale-rot! Mange!” When none of his favorite words worked, he dumped out everything in the two-thousand-year-old junk drawer of his mind. One word shone in the midst of the mess, like a coin he’d lost long ago. “Kairos.

Kairos is the reminder to grab the moments in front of us, for once they pass, they can never be regained.

Perhaps he was so used to having people want to kill him that it no longer impacted him like it would a normal person.

Los consumidores son líquidos, fluyen en el camino en el que menos oposición encuentren

With her eyes, which in this other half of the city are a stranger’s eyes, she sees how every conceivable need is catered for by some product or other in the shops, the freedom to consume seems like an India rubber wall to her, separating people from any yearnings that might transcend their personal and momentary wishes. Is she about to be another customer?

Nothing worth having was ever found in the world of those are sane.

Goals. What does the persuader want to get out of the argument? Is she trying to change the audience’s mood or mind, or does she want it to do something? Is she fixing blame, bringing a tribe together with values speech, or talking about a decision? Ethos, pathos, logos. Which appeal does she emphasize—character, emotion, or logic? Kairos. Is her timing right? Is she using the right medium?

It’s the tipping point, the Kairos, it’s like the conversion of Saint Augustine, just as radical. It’s not just a matter of him believing in God or me liking women, it’s the fact that there’s a life before and a life after.

Endless progress may be symbolized by running ahead indefinitely into an empty space. We will do that, but it is not the meaning of life; nor are better and better gadgets the meaning of life. What is the meaning of life then? Perhaps it is something else. Perhaps there are great moments in history. There is in these great moments not total fulfillment but there is the victory over a particular power of destruction, a victory over a demonic power which was creative and now has become destructive. This is a possibility, but don't expect that it must happen. It might not happen; that is a continuous threat hanging over development in history. But there may be a kairos.

En los museos, piensa, solo se expone aquello que ya no encuentra asilo en la realidad.

No hay trabajo práctico más hermoso que aquel cuyo significado trasciende la acción.

Discipline must be at least as powerful as the desire to lose it.

What will history’s verdict be about our time?" ~ Jenny Erpenbeck, Kairos Yearning like a man yearns for fire in cold winter nights, I have given in to a primal need within me to possess a copy of the book 'Kairos.

Hij heeft haar voorzien van alles waarbij hij zich thuis voelt. Bach, Beethoven, Brecht, Busch, Chopin, Eisler, Giotto, Goy, Grünewald, Hacks, Kafka, Lenin, Thomas Mann, Marx, Mozart, Neher, Steinberg, Verdi, Robert Walser. In alfabetische volgorde. Orde is angst voor wanorde. Dus angst.

Kairos was young and wing-footed and forever gorgeous, despite having no hair except a single shock over his forehead. Kairos is the god of golden opportunities and guardian of outlaws, and he could work wonders for you if you were quick enough to grab him by the forelock.

Kairos is the inspiration for the Cretan chestnut “Opportunity makes thieves.” What matters is the timing, not the target—seize any opportunity, even if it’s not the one you planned.

An infinitesimal lapse that has just succeeded in ruining the possibility of perfection forever? I spent at least half an hour in a foul mood. And then suddenly I wondered: but why did I want so desperately for her to catch up? Why does it feel so rotten when the movement is not in synch? It’s not very hard to come up with an answer: all those things that pass before us, which we miss by a hair and which are botched for eternity . . . All the words we should have said, gestures we should have made, the fleeting moments of kairos that were there one day and that we did not know how to grasp and that were buried forever in the void . . . Failure, by a hair’s breadth

The ancient Greeks had two words for time. The first was chronos. The second was kairos. The

KAIROS A unique time in a person’s life; an opportunity for change.

Before the New Kingdom, the bestowal of “divine love” occurred by a “superior” deity upon a human, a subordination that extended down the chain of authority, passed from gods to royals, from royals to non-royal officials, from officials to their wives and relatives, etc.[538] In this regard, Doxey further relates: [Egyptologist] W.K. Simpson has studied the concept of divine love, asserting that prior to the New Kingdom, love was always bestowed by a superior upon a subordinate. Simpson’s view is certainly correct with regard to the love of gods. During the Middle Kingdom, humans always receive divine love; they are never described as “loving” a god.[539] On some occasions, such as when the king was “beloved by the people,” such love or mri could apparently be “reciprocated between superiors and subordinates” as well.[540] The clarification of the Middle and New Kingdoms indicates that this custom changed during the New Kingdom, with the use of the mry epithet becoming increasingly popular even as applied to deities. It is evident that, especially after the Hellenization of the Ptolemaic and Greco-Roman periods, various Egyptian deities became the objects of “divine love” and were themselves invoked as “beloved” or Mery. In reality, this ability to bestow mry upon even the “chief of all gods” is demonstrated as early as the New Kingdom in a hymn from the Papyrus Kairo CG 58038 (Boulaq 17), parts of which may date to the late Middle Kingdom,[541] such as the 18th Dynasty (1550-1292 BCE), and in which we find the combined god Amun-Re praised as “the good god beloved.”[542] Indeed, at P. Boulaq 17, 3.4, we find Amun-Re deemed Mry, as part of the epithet “Beloved of the Upper Egyptian and Lower Egyptian Crowns.”[543] Amun-Re is also called “beloved” in Budge’s rendering of the Book of the Dead created for the Egyptian princess and priestess Nesi-Khonsu (c. 1070-945 BCE).[544]

You see, we don’t know what a Star Child is or what his or her purpose is because…you’re the first.

Logan, all of my life I’ve never fit in. I’ve always been the girl on the outside looking in. Nothing has ever felt quite right…until now. I feel it, Logan. I feel it to very depths of my soul.

JESUS TAUGHT ABOUT ANGELS Jesus prophesied about the abundance of angelic ministry in our day. This prophecy was given over 2,000 years ago. We are entering into the season when this prophetic word will begin to manifest in the lives of ordinary people. Jesus told Nathanael, “Most assuredly, I say to you, hereafter you shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man” (John 1:51). This is a clear picture of God’s preordained plan for humankind. We have entered that kairos time today. Jesus prophesied that the heavens would open. This was one of Christ’s most important objectives of His earthly ministry. Jesus came to restore the open heavens back over mankind, and thereby reunite the Creator to the creature, mankind. Today the heavens are open, and the angels of God are becoming very active in the realms of earth. God created a spiritual realm or dwelling place, and He also created a temporal, earthly realm. This is the nature of creation and is further illustrated in Genesis 1. The Lord divided the heavens or spiritual realm from the terrestrial or temporal realm. Genesis 2:4 also illustrates the separation of the earthly realm and the spiritual realm. The passage in Genesis 2 also refers to several heavens, but for the sake of this study we will only speak in terms of the heavens and the earth, although some theologians believe there could be as many as 21 levels of heaven, hence the terms, third heaven and seventh heaven. The angels of God are becoming very active in the lives of ordinary people who are friends of God. What a time to be alive! Jesus has given us a very clear pattern to follow; He modeled how to implement angelic ministry. In John 5:19-20, Jesus tells us that obedience is crucial: “…Most assuredly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of Himself, but what He sees the Father do; for whatever He does, the Son also does in like manner. For the Father loves the Son….” Jesus only sought to implement those things on earth that He “saw” His Father doing. Jesus was a seer. The Lord was obedient, and lived His life out of the total obedience or unction of the Holy Spirit. Jesus is now releasing the seer anointing to people throughout the earth. Jesus instructed us to pray according to the will of His Father and “loose” in Heaven and “bind on earth.” We see this illustrated for us in Matthew 16:19: “And I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” We have been given authority to “loose angelic ministry.” We have also been

Even those who know the chronology of missions history still sometimes cite Carey as the "father" because of the length of his ministry in India (forty-one years), because of his commitment to Bible translation, or because he was an English speaker. However, when Carey arrived in India in November 1793, the German Protestant missionary Friedrich Schwartz already was in the forty-third of what would eventually be forty-eight years of ministry in India. Furthermore, the first Protestant missionaries, Ziegenbalg and Plutschau, translated the New Testament into Tamil by 1715, less than a decade after their arrival in India. There were several well-known English-speaking missionaries before Carey, including John Eliot (1604-1690) and David Brainerd (1718-1747). In short, looking at the pure chronology of missions, it is difficult to see why Carey is considered the "first" or the "father" of modern missions. However, this is why missions history must be seen not simply through the lens of chronos but also through the lens of kairos. William Carey can be referred to as the Father of Modern Missions, but not because of any of the reasons that are normally offered. William Carey is the father of modern missions because he stepped into a kairos moment, which stimulated the founding of dozens of new voluntary missionary societies and propelled hundreds of new missionaries out onto the field in what became the largest missions mobilization in history.

Where kairos is an event word—something that has a beginning and ending—repentance (metanoia) is a process word, as is believe (pistis). The Circle is a process, a way of living that does not have a specific beginning and ending. One does not become a disciple of Jesus and stand still; discipleship is a lifestyle of learning. And this learning begins with a change of heart.

What’s more important to understand is that in our endless questing, we never stumble on a beautiful secret: that God’s time—kairos time—is always present and available to us, even in the daily dawnings and dyings of the circadian cycle. At any instant, if only we are aware enough to catch it, we can enter a suspended moment that contains within it layer upon layer of history, the multiple petals of the present, and the swirling mists of the future to come.

Man operates in chronos, or measured time; God operates in kairos—an opportune or supreme moment. The determination of when kairos moments take place is in accordance with God’s sovereignty, and is far beyond our human grasp of understanding or control. However, God’s timing is always perfect and our submission to His timing is critical to our personal peace.

kairos moment is a God-given moment of destiny in which humanity has the opportunity to step forward into God’s divine opening. It is the moment when the natural and the spiritual realms come together—a God-appointed moment unbounded by humanity.

She would like a shallow life, swift and shallow, till some day she can start again. Get through her time fast until then. And when will that be? Then.

Kairos is divine timing, the belief that everything happens the moment that it’s meant to, and not a moment before.

Did you know that there was a belief among the ancient Greeks that at night the sun wandered from West to East under the earth, from one side to the other, right across the underworld, before surfacing the next morning? No, Katharina hadn’t known that either, and she imagines a dull, yellowish light slipping through clumps of soil, unremarked and unappreciated by anyone

Tell me when to stop,” he murmured, slowly turning her in his arms, so she was facing the warm vents. “And I will keep us where you find it most comfortable.” She shivered, and he could assume it was the depth of his voice in her ear that affected her so. “Arges?” “Yes, kairos?” Perhaps he leaned a little too close. Perhaps he slightly nuzzled his lips against her ear as he said the words. “I’m going to remove my suit. It keeps me warm in cold water, but keeps me cool in warm water. Just the top, but... Will you not look?” She asked the impossible. He had to hold on to her. The currents were far too strong for her to stay in one place without them whipping her away from him. So that meant she would be pressed against him, skin to skin, for the first time. He would surely die remaining still and not looking or touching everything he’d never seen bare. Still, she had asked. And he had promised that he would take care of her.

Two long slim goddesses with shining black braids, who could have been twins, they looked so alike, but the commentator made a point of saying they weren't even sisters... Following a few graceful bounces, they jumped. The first microseconds were perfect. I felt that perfection in my body; it would seem it's a question of 'mirror neurons': when you catch someone doing something, the same neurons that they activate in order to do something become active your brain, without you doing a thing. An acrobatic dive without budging from the sofa and while eating potato chips: that's why we like watching sports on television. Anyway, the two graces jump and, right at the beginning, it's ecstasy. And then, catastrophe! All at once you get the impression that they are very very slightly out of synch. You stare at the screen, a knot in your stomach: no doubt about it, they ARE out of synch... One of them is going to reach the water before the other! It's horrible!... I sat there shouting at the television: go on, catch up with her, go on! I felt incredibly angry with the one who had dawdled. I sunk deeper into the sofa, disgusted. What is this? Is that the movement of the world? An infinitesimal lapse that has succeeded in ruining the possibility of perfection forever?... All the words we should have said, gestures we shoul dhave made, the fleeting moments of kairos that were there one day and that we did not know how to grasp and that were buried further in the void... Failure, by a hair's breadth... What if literature were a television we gave into in order to activate our mirror neurons and give ourselves some action-packed cheap thrills? And even worse: what if literature were a television showing us all the things we have missed?

Le nostre vite sono vincolate dal tempo, ma i nostri ricordi no. Nel luogo in cui viviamo davvero la nostra vita, quassù" e si indicò la fronte, "il tempo non esiste. Una cosa che accade in questo momento potrebbe riportarti a una cosa che è accaduta vent'anni fa. E per un attimo, nella tua mente, la distanza tra le due cose svanisce. È come se il tempo non esistesse." [...] "Lo sapevi che i greci avevano due parole per indicare il tempo?" "No." "La prima era chronos. È da qui che deriva la parola cronologia. Chronos è il tempo che procede regolarmente. Minuti, secondi, giorni, anni." [...] "Kairos, che è l'esperienza soggettiva del tempo. Tipo, una svolta nella vita, un momento di verità, un cambiamento importante, un'opportunità, la sensazione del passato che irrompe nel presente. Quando la storia si scontra con il presente, quello è un momento di kairos. È una comunione tra il presente e il passato. [...]

Le momentum : c’est le moment où coïncide qui on est vraiment et ce que l’on fait.

Nemoguće je biti iskren, a nemati slobodu reći: ne.

You are not supposed to be here, Arges. You are supposed to be with your achromo, convincing her to tell us all her secrets.” “She’s dying.” He’d intended to ease into this conversation. He had wanted to convince Mitéra of his kairos’s use, or perhaps that they could trust Mira to come back, even though that was unlikely. Instead, he was the idiot who blurted out the truth the moment Mitéra looked at him. “She will not last much longer without the achromos’ medicine that they take. She will die and we will get no information out of her.” Mitéra waved her hand through the water. “Then she will die. Now we know how to take them, and that their people will not follow anyone who has been lost. You will get another.” “I do not wish to take another.” It was a hard truth to tell her, but one that he felt deeply. Arges was not meant for this. He wasn’t supposed to take people out of their homes and watch while they died. He couldn’t torture anymore people like this.

Then he drew her scent deep into his lungs. Tainted only slightly by the sulfur of the vents, but he could still taste that sweet scent of her again. “I can smell how excited you are,” he groaned. “I draw that scent into my gills and tuck it underneath my scales for times when I am not by your side. Kairos, Mira, I grow so weary of seeking release in my hand.” Again, that scent bloomed, far stronger than he’d ever scented it before. He knew it was only because she was warm, finally, when she had been so cold for such a long time. And yet... Oh, he enjoyed pretending that scent was for him.

His hearts raced. Would he lose her so soon? The guilt in that thought alone threatened to swallow him. It was his fault that she was here. And she’d told him she knew nothing. She wasn’t meant to even be here. He could have taken one of their leaders if he had been more patient and less intrigued by the glimmering light of her suit. For all the murdering and killing he’d done in his life, he’d never harmed an innocent. In this, he knew she had no guilt to carry and didn’t deserve to die because he’d made a mistake. Oh, he had never thought it would come to this. He met Mira’s gaze, looking at her from the water and seeing the way the light played off her green eyes. He couldn’t stop himself from saying the words, even though he knew she couldn’t understand him. “I am sorry, kairos. Perhaps I never should have brought you here, but know I will do what I can to save you. Throughout all of this, you have been brave, and that is something to honor. Even if I have proven myself incapable of honoring much in your time here.” He pressed a fist to his chest, watching her eyes dart between him and the droid.

Kairos,” he murmured, gently dragging his finger down her cheek. She interrupted him. “You’ve called me that for a long time. What does it mean? My translator doesn’t know what to do with that one.” “It is a word with many meanings,” he replied. His throat closed a bit, knowing he was about to reveal maybe too much. “For us, it is a fleeting but crucial moment. An ephemeral rightness of time and place. A moment that brings you to where you were supposed to be.

Water dripping down her nose, she ripped her rebreather off and stared at him. Finally, she couldn’t take it. Because he already had that look in his eyes that meant he was leaving and she... she... “I don’t want you to go.” He froze in front of her before quietly asking, “What did you say?” “I don’t want you to go,” she repeated. “I don’t like being here alone. Without you.” “You have your metal box to speak with.” “It’s not the same.” She swallowed, realizing that one of them would have to be the brave one. She knew he had feelings for her, and she did as well. Even though her mind screamed they couldn’t do this. That no undine and human could ever be together, in any way. She felt like it was important to get the words out. Even if they were hard. Placing her hands over his at her waist, she decided that if one of them had to be brave, it would be her. “I prefer my time with you, Arges. Much more than anyone else I’ve ever met in my life. I want to know everything about you, even if those discoveries come without words.” Surely, he understood what she was saying. His black eyes searched hers, and then his hands spasmed against her hips. “Kairos, I believe there are perhaps some translation difficulties regarding what you just said.” “There are no translation issues.” She lifted her hands and placed them on his shoulders, toying with the edges of his gills. “I think you should know that I want you. I find you strangely beautiful, and though that has plagued me for quite some time, I feel that now perhaps it is the right time for me to tell you.” “Why now?” he rasped, his voice guttural and deep.

What will history’s verdict be about our time?" ~ Jenny Erpenbeck, Kairos Yearning like a man yearns for fire on cold winter nights, I have given in to a primal need within me to possess a copy of the book 'Kairos.

At Donovan, I joined Kairos, a prison-based ministry group, and attended church regularly. Kairos—that’s Greek for “God’s Time”—became an integral part of my life.

began lecturing there as well. Kairos was crucial in helping me cope with the grief and loss within my family—once again, helping me see the ripple effects of my bad decisions.

If not, think in terms of KAIROS: the title is your first opportunity to indicate that this is a text about something that matters and that readers should care about.

We are living in what the Greeks called the καιρóς (Kairos) – the right time – for a “metamorphosis of the gods,” i.e. of the fundamental principles and symbols.’ C. G. Jung, The Undiscovered Self (1958)

My heart skips a beat. Kairos. I hadn’t heard the ancient term in an era. I almost forgot it existed. It’s not often one declares this moment has been crafted by Fate. That this instant must be seized…or lost forever.

Callum leans back in his chair and smirks, “Not everyone can rely on the ‘Charybdis almost ate me’ sympathy sex like you.

Trust God with your now. “Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now.” When we choose to stay present to people and situations, we bend time by increasing its qualitative (kairos) nature. Look people in the eyes. Focus on what they are saying. Practice enjoying being with them. Give your attention to what is good about each and every moment. Keep an attitude of gratitude. These perspectives increase the quality of your life.

God is into doing real-life with you. So, abiding or “giving your entire attention to what God is doing right now” is a real-life discipline that improves the quality (kairos) of life.

Therefore, time has been restored to her original position as helpful servant rather than cruel master. Through the cross of Jesus Christ, you also can make friends with time. Time can begin to serve you rather than rule over you. You can redeem time because of the redemption of Christ. You can rescue the kidnapped hours of your day (chronos) and live life to the fullest (kairos).

Worry and anxiety about time steals time away from you. Worry steals health which in turn sucks time. Worry steals joy which results in slowed time. Anxiety steals peace which corrupts the kairos quality of time. Worry is a time thief. So, do not worry about tomorrow!

So he has found something he hadn’t noticed before. He has to light a cigarette, he’s so excited. He looks at that mysterious word, it will guide him now, he’ll let it up with the wind like a kite and follow it. “Kairos,” Kunicki reads, “Kairos,” repeating it, unsure how it’s pronounced. It has to be Greek, he thinks happily, Greek, and he dives into his bookshelves, but there’s no Greek dictionary there, only Useful Latin Phrases, a

Los modos de persuasión, también conocidos como apelaciones retóricas o estrategias éticas, son dispositivos retóricos utilizados para clasificar la apelación de un orador a su audiencia. Estos modos se denominan Eros, pathos, logos y Kairos

Nevertheless, death asks us to pause. It doesn’t tell us what we need to do when we pause (there may be nothing to do at all), but it asks us to be in its presence. To sit with it. Listen to it. To lay aside chronos and embrace kairos.

Auch nach der Abgabe der Büste bliebe das Berliner Museum an Kunstwerken aus der Amarnazeit, betreffs deren Fülle und Qualität, allen übrigen Sammlungen einschließlich Kairo, überlegen.