Disconnected

                 I was at the perfectly named “UBreakIFix” store, getting the screen on my cell phone repaired. They told me it would take a couple of hours, so I naturally asked, “Can you text me when it’s ready?”

                Uh, no. They were taking my cell phone.

                “Do you have another cell phone we can text?” I was asked.

                No. I used to have two – one for personal use, one for work – but since leaving that position, I no longer carried a second cell phone. I admit carrying two cell phones made me feel rather pretentious, but it was necessary.

                In the end, they said they’d email me when the phone was ready. The only problem with that, of course, was that I generally check my email on my phone. Checking it now would require being at home, on my laptop.

                No problem. As I walked out, I actually felt kind of free. No one could get in touch with me for the next few hours. Not only was I immune to phone calls, but no texts, either. If there was a disaster waiting to befall me, it would have to wait.

It felt good ... for a minute.

                Then I remembered I had no way to let my wife – the most important person to stay in touch with – know that I wouldn’t have my cell phone for a few hours. I should have texted her before I left, but didn’t think about it. Then I began to worry. What if she needed me? What if something happened and she couldn’t get me? Would she worry that something happened to me when I didn’t respond or answer her?

                It’s not exactly earth-shaking news to realize we’re so connected to those little "mini-me" computers we start to feel untethered from the real world without one.

There was a study done at Cal State Dominguez Hills in Carson, Ca. called “Out of sight is not out of mind: The impact of restricting wireless mobile device use on anxiety levels among low, moderate and high users” published in the academic journal Computers in Human Behavior.

Half the students’ cell phones were taken away. The other half could keep their phones, but had to turn them off and set them out of sight. Each group was told to sit quietly during the study.

                According to the study, college students grew more anxious during the 75-minute experiment, where they were forced to sit with no distractions, even when they knew the phones would be returned. The effect was stronger on heavy and moderate users, whether their phones were in their possession or not.

                Another similar study took college students and divided them three groups and given a test. One group had their phones screen-down on their desks; the second had their phones in their pockets; the third were not allowed to have their phones at all.

Although very few students said they were distracted by their phones, the test scores followed an inverse relationship to how close the phone were to each student: on average, the closer the phone, the lower the grade.

These are just two of many such studies that show how our cell phones affect us, not just by the way we use them but by their mere presence. Even when we’re not using them, they have an effect on us because, consciously or unconsciously, we know they are there. As one writer said, we’re pulled into the orbit of our cell phones even when we can’t see them, when they aren’t even in use.

I wrote previously about sitting in a doctors’ waiting room, and how instead of the old-fashioned magazines scattered about, the room was devoid of reading material because everyone was on their phone and probably would not have looked at a hard-copy magazine anyway.

There is a verse in Romans (12:2) that Christians like to quote: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.” Generally, we use it to remind us not to be seduced by what we call “the world;” that is, not to get caught up in materialism or let our morality conform to what seems to be generally accepted or as an encouragement to “think” on “higher things,” the things of God.

And while true, I wonder if we shouldn’t apply it to the way we’re so addicted to our cell phones, too.

I am not a Luddite, a person opposed to new technology or ways of working. As I pointed out, I am as dependent on my cell phone as anyone. And cell phones are just tools; there is nothing inherently bad about them. Like so many other tools, they are only as good or evil as the intent – and perhaps frequency - with which we use them.

Still, I can’t help but wonder if we haven’t made the cell phone another appendage. When I see studies suggesting college students become anxious and can’t focus just because they don’t have their cell phones within easy reach, or when students actually concentrate better when the cell phone has been physically taken away from them, it makes me wonder how unwittingly our cell phones have become the controlling factor of our lives.

That’s not to say I’m suggesting we do away with our cell phones. They are wonderful tools, both for staying in touch, keeping track of family members, and finding out whatever happened to the cast of “Leave it to Beaver.” Look around your church and chances are you’ll see people reading their scripture from their cell phone rather than an old-fashioned book; you may even start your day with a devotional that comes via an app on your cell phone.

But maybe we should consider taking a cell phone Sabbath.

In the Old Testament, the command to ‘remember the Sabbath’ was not so much about going to church (they didn’t ‘go to church’ in those days) as, I believe, it was a way of God saying, “Take a day off. Trust me to take care of your field and flock for one day while you rest and recharge.” After all, even God worked six days and then, it says in Genesis, on the seventh day He rested.

When I worked for a daily newspaper, it was too easy to work every day – and I did, more than I’d like to admit. But I always tried to take a “Sabbath;” take one day and get away from work. It was never a Saturday because I was a sportswriter. Most often it was a Thursday. I know preachers who take their “day of rest” on Monday. Traditionally that day has always been what we call "Saturday," our seventh day of the week. Generally that’s still the case.

I could be wrong, but I don’t think the command is day specific, but rather about the intent – take a day and trust God to handle things while we relax and recharge or take care of other things. (After all, did the Israelites even have “Saturday”?)

Can we do that? Can I actually do that?

To be honest, probably not. But those few hours when my phone was in the shop, and I knew no one could contact me and I could not contact anyone, were like a mini-vacation.

In this technological age, I admit I’m an old man who doesn’t know how to take advantage of half (or more) of the technology readily available to me. I still have my music albums and CDs that I listen to rather than going to Spotify or downloading songs. I’m not against technological advances, but perhaps I’m the old dog who just isn't sure he wants to learn new tricks.

Still, I can’t help but wonder if by putting down my cell phone for a few hours (I don’t think I’m ready to leave it for a full day) I may not find myself, like the Israelites of old, trusting God to take care of everything and everyone else while maybe I focus more on Him.

And come to think of it, “UBreakIFix” might also be a good name for a church.