The proof of real religion is that it transforms this world. The sacramental vision of human life understands the sacred is palpable in the moment—this moment—no other. The past is gone. The future is not yet here. In essence, this moment is all we have.
When we experience the numinous quality under the surface of things, God is incarnate once again. Then healing begins—healing from the dullness of prime-time cotton candy television and all-pervasive consumerism. We yearn for the re-enchantment of the world, which we knew as children. Union with God is re-enchantment of the here and now.
As we go through our daily routines, fly to Baltimore for the meeting, stress about the medical bills, run after our children, and try to eat more salad and less junk, we need to know there is a “more.” We need to catch glimpses of communion with God in the moment.
The re-enchantment of the world is available. It’s very familiar. It’s our true home. It’s what the Orthodox writers of The Philokalia such as Makarios call our “original purity” or “original nature.”  In C.S. Lewis’ book, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the children entered into another dimension. The children saw God’s realm. When we were children we saw the magic of life for what it is, an utter gift. Only after the siege of monotonous decades, disenchantment, and secular scripting, do we lose our sight. Yet, beneath the layers of conditioning there’s the buoyant wonderment of the child, who has never forgotten. That’s why the Gospels say the dominion of heaven belongs to a child (Luke 18:16). The point isn’t to revert to childishness, but to unlearn all the deadening adult scripting that suburbia and the market economy foist upon us. There’s a mystical child in each of us wide eyed with rapture at the dance of life; the child who sees the fabric of light that strings everything together.