St. iPhone

Sorry I missed it, but there’s so much to see, read and absorb online, and in the world around me -- which seems to be still there when I lift up mine eyes from the computer screen -- that I miss 99.99% of it anyway: last Sunday, June 29 was Social Media Sunday, the Feast of Peter, Paul, & St. iPhone. The invitation from Episcopal News Service, which was for everybody not just for clergy or such, was to bring your smart phone to church (a joke, nobody needs an invitation, everyone present has a phone anyway, I'm just hoping mine doesn't start flashing its light in my pocket over my heart, signalling The Rapture while I'm standing behind the Altar saying Mass), snap and text pics, video a hymn, Facebook a selfie, ... I love it. No, really, I like a busy, noisy, even distracting church, congregation, and worship service. Not just making a joyful noise unto the Lord, but my favorite is anything about children, toddlers wandering around, an infant shrieking, if a baby yells during my sermon I can either talk louder, or repeat a word or phrase, or just keep on truckin’. But iPhone Sunday?! Wonderful!

Here’s the link to the ENS item http://ens.episcopal.me/dfc/newsdetail_2/3166188

I once officiated an elegant and solemn funeral as the guest priest in another church. The church was packed. The rector wasn’t involved in the service, but I noticed that he was in the congregation. Just as the gentle music began for chanted anthem and I started down the aisle with the casket, the rector, apparently not one easily to let go of control, startled me and the entire congregation by shrieking at the top of his voice, “TURN OFF YOUR CELL PHONES.” If this were a joke I would crack that the coffin lid flew open and the guest of honor sat straight up, but it was no joke, and that didn't happen, and his screaming shout at a high solemn moment was more disturbing than anybody’s ringing phone could possibly have been!

Anyway, nobody has to turn off the cell phone, and the only way I know to really annoy me for sure is to take a child out for disturbing the peace. I like the peace disturbed. In my life and times, two of the most enjoyable worship services I ever attended were years ago in spirit-filled Episcopal parishes where the only thing missing was hotdog, popcorn and souvenir vendors moving up and down the aisles. Children were running up and down throughout the event and the music was terrific. “Suffer the little children ... and forbid them not” is the soul of my liturgical theology.

In the 57 years Linda and I have been married, there was, to my boundless joy and love, a child in the home from wedding day plus twelve months until the day Kristen drove off to college leaving me desolate. In my own earlier, beginning life, love and joy were when one of my first cousins the Malone girls were spending weeks with us when they were small, and I got to do a lot of the caring-for. My morose would begin as their parents collected them and drove off home to Pensacola, from them I learned that I can’t be happy unless there’s a child around. Our married and social life always revolved around the children. As a result, we have never been of habit or mind to go out for just an adult evening. But last evening we did that, and it was wonderful. With all its trendy little cafes, downtown St. Andrews is a bustling place of an evening. By kind invitation, we went to The Little Village to hear Sarah Dick’s event Sarah Nicole Sings. At the piano, with her strong, beautiful voice, she gave us and the cafe crowd a delightful treat. The venue is outside, under cover with a breeze coming off the Bay. And St. iPhone snapped a pic.

T+ in +Time and loving every sec

Not to mention that my ahi tuna taco was bright, beautiul, and scrumptious