The Super Cell Phone
Stories
Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit
Series IV Cycle C
My youngest daughter and I traveled to Hong Kong not long ago. Neither one of us had been there before, and it had always appealed to me as an exotic location to visit. She felt the same way, so off we went.
Great trip. Let me say here, though, that I've never seen more people using cell phones than in Hong Kong. I suppose it's the same in Chicago, New York City, or Los Angeles. As people emerged from the office buildings in downtown Hong Kong, and they walked shoulder to shoulder down its busy streets, it seemed like everyone had their arms crooked to their ear, cell phone in hand.
Others were simply walking through the crowds quite normally, but -- on closer inspection -- they appeared to be talking to themselves. They had an earpiece connected to their cell, with the microphone patched into a hanging cord, almost invisible, and they, too, were conversing with someone about something no doubt extremely important.
At the time, I didn't own a cell phone. My daughter did. But I had not yet seen the need for one. But I realized then that the people of the world were wired and connected in a vast web that had shrunk the globe to the mere seconds it takes to punch out a few numbers or hit the speed dial function on the keypad.
Here's the interesting part: of the millions of people in the United States with cell phones, there are only 5,000 cells whose calls are always going to go through no matter what. Like, in times of emergency, for example. These 5,000 people are helping the government test a new system, the Wireless Priority Service in New York and Washington, D.C. The system is supposed to secure airtime in the event of a terrorist attack or some other emergency. The special cell people get a souped-up super phone, the Motorola P280 with a signal that goes right to the front of the line of incoming calls when an emergency strikes. Normal people, like us, just get a busy signal.
The issue of access is an important one. Important people cannot be accessed by just anyone. You just can't call the president and chat, or dial up Oprah for advice about a failing marriage.
I'm always amazed at how accessible Jesus was to the people -- everyday, worker-types like you and me. Granted, his entourage (read disciples) sometimes tried to screen the people who got to speak to Jesus to beg for healing or to ask some questions. Jesus generally discouraged this practice.
You'd think that, with his close friends, there would be no problem of access. So why is Martha grumbling? It's not like Mary had a super cell phone and she didn't. Mary saw an opportunity to chat with Jesus, and she took it.
We should do the same.
Great trip. Let me say here, though, that I've never seen more people using cell phones than in Hong Kong. I suppose it's the same in Chicago, New York City, or Los Angeles. As people emerged from the office buildings in downtown Hong Kong, and they walked shoulder to shoulder down its busy streets, it seemed like everyone had their arms crooked to their ear, cell phone in hand.
Others were simply walking through the crowds quite normally, but -- on closer inspection -- they appeared to be talking to themselves. They had an earpiece connected to their cell, with the microphone patched into a hanging cord, almost invisible, and they, too, were conversing with someone about something no doubt extremely important.
At the time, I didn't own a cell phone. My daughter did. But I had not yet seen the need for one. But I realized then that the people of the world were wired and connected in a vast web that had shrunk the globe to the mere seconds it takes to punch out a few numbers or hit the speed dial function on the keypad.
Here's the interesting part: of the millions of people in the United States with cell phones, there are only 5,000 cells whose calls are always going to go through no matter what. Like, in times of emergency, for example. These 5,000 people are helping the government test a new system, the Wireless Priority Service in New York and Washington, D.C. The system is supposed to secure airtime in the event of a terrorist attack or some other emergency. The special cell people get a souped-up super phone, the Motorola P280 with a signal that goes right to the front of the line of incoming calls when an emergency strikes. Normal people, like us, just get a busy signal.
The issue of access is an important one. Important people cannot be accessed by just anyone. You just can't call the president and chat, or dial up Oprah for advice about a failing marriage.
I'm always amazed at how accessible Jesus was to the people -- everyday, worker-types like you and me. Granted, his entourage (read disciples) sometimes tried to screen the people who got to speak to Jesus to beg for healing or to ask some questions. Jesus generally discouraged this practice.
You'd think that, with his close friends, there would be no problem of access. So why is Martha grumbling? It's not like Mary had a super cell phone and she didn't. Mary saw an opportunity to chat with Jesus, and she took it.
We should do the same.
