I bought a pocket sundial. I bought it because a lot of my recent reading has caused me to question my assumptions about everything, including time. You see, the Christian Bible has many instances where man’s conception of “time” is kind of poo-pooed. And with many of you sensuous heathens being incapable of listening to words that follow, “The Bible says…”, I needed to find a different way to get you to the Word. Now, with my sundial in hand, I finally can demonstrate what the biblical writer’s were saying in a non-threatening manner. Here’s how.
Suppose I have my pocket sundial. And suppose after a leisurely midday meal I set the device correctly and the sunlight passes through the hole and I read the time to be 2:45. Now, suppose you check your phone and it reads 2:52. Well, you know me; I’m stubborn as a mule and I insist that I’m right. And I know you; you’re arrogant as Icarus and you insist that you’re right.
Who is right? By what measure can we agree?
In the end, I have a piece of pretty metal upon which a spot of sunlight shines and you have an electrified screen upon which an Arabic numeral appears. All we’ve demonstrated is that time is a convention. I’d feel smart if my namesake didn’t express the exact same truth nearly two thousand solar-Gregorian-calendar years ago when he said that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day–without pocket sundials or portable electricity at his disposal.
But noooo. I couldn’t just listen. So I bought a pocket-sundial. And on the seventh day of owning it, I found my thirty-five year old self expressing to a friend, “Did I tell you I wrecked my car the other day? Sometimes I feel like, ‘if I can just make it to forty’…” as if I hadn’t learned a thing.
Christ is all and in all. Don’t give an inch.
There’s got to be a word for it. You know what I’m talking about. You’re talking to a friend, and then they pull out their phone. They peek at it, and then something on the screen captures their attention. You keep talking, hoping they aren’t actually more involved with their phone than with you. Then something in your voice triggers something in their brain to command their head to turn your direction. The look they give next is what I’m thinking has to have a word. The look which says, “Uh huh. Yep, I’m listening. I know you think I was looking at my phone instead of you, but you’re mistaken. I was listening and can still listen even as I return to looking at my phone. Promise.”
Oh. I know. The word is disrespect.
We all do it. Let’s all stop doing it.
The only way to get there is together.