MARKings

In the long hot summers of the past, people naturally slowed down mainly because you couldn’t keep going because there was no air conditioning and your body would simply collapse if you didn’t rest and try and cool down regularly. It was akin to what happened before there were electric lights. People worked during the light of the day and most often rested with their families at night because there was not enough adequate light to read or perform work.

Of course, the rules are different now, but I wonder if they are better. The main crisis on the news in the past week was not the oil pollution in the Gulf, but rather the antenna problems with the new IPhone 4. The people who have to have the latest gadgets, and shelled out $400 or so for their new phone, were angry that they now had to have Apple fix their new, fancy cell phone.

I remember growing up and their was only one phone in the house, and God forbid, it was tethered to the wall, but it was free because Illinois Bell owned it, and you just leased it for a few dollars a month, and it could only make phone calls. How inconvenient, but how inexpensive!

I bring this up not too pretend that we can go “back to the good old days.” But to make the point that maybe in our transition to a faster paced life, we have lost something. In an essay in Newsweek a few weeks ago, there was an article entitled Slow Notion which pointed out that most of us had missed a very important annual commemoration, celebrated on June 21, the longest day of the year. What we missed was the International Day of Slowness. “First observed in Milan in 2007, the IDOS celebrates the idea of stepping out of the fast lane by doing less, taking your time at it, and reflecting more on it, at least for one day.”

In this day and age of multi-tasking it seems like heresy. The idea of slowing down and taking time out to just “to smell the roses,” is an activity, or should I say, lack of activity reserved for a long vacation or retirement.

The author of the article even dared to suggest that we practice “slow reading.” But with all of the books we want to read, all of the magazines that we subscribe and feel guilty about not reading, to say nothing of the all that we should read on the internet, how can we possibly read all that “we are supposed to” if we don’t skim, learn speed reading, or somehow reduce the pile of unread literature on our coffee table. What would happen to us of we suddenly died today without all of that literature unread. I don’t know if there is a special place in Purgatory for that or not? It may be a similar fear to dying penniless? Would it be any worse to die with nothing than to die with Billions? I don’t think so. At least, it would less for the relatives to fight over.

“Remember to keep holy the Sabbath Day?” This meant not only to make sure that you attended Mass but also to rest. Of course, in those days of yesteryear, there were no stores that were opened except a few neighborhood food stores. They were there in case you needed milk or some other food so that you could put your Sunday meal on the table for your family, which usually was about 3:00 PM. Talk about ancient history.

In these simpler times, I think that people reflected more on their lives because the pace of life was slower. For monks in monasteries and for very religious Church people they regularly practiced meditation techniques by either spiritual reading, prayer, or simply getting quiet and “putting ourselves in the Lord’s presence.” These things may seem quaint in this age of unlimited information, but I think it is something we should think about doing.

Prayer is usually seen as us spending time talking to God either through formula prayers or through quiet contemplation. But we should not forget that since most real conversation is a two-way street, then we should take the time for prayer not only to talk to God, but also to see what God has to say to us.

And with that communication, we don’t have to fear any signal loss, because God speaks to us in our hearts, but only if we are listening.

Fr. Mark Canavan

July 25, 2010