The title of this post may seem strange for a blog primarily focused on issues of faith, prayer, religion, and my boring life. But bear with me.
Recently the New York Times published a fascinating series of articles on the impact of autonomous or driver-less cars and trucks. You can find it HERE. The Times looked at this technological revolution in transportation from many angles – transportation of goods, how cities will change (picture no street signs, and parking only on the perimeter of town – for the driverless cars of course), how expectations of employers may shift to include your commute time since you are not having to worry about driving. There is a lot of speculation and visioning and legalities and the like to encompass as this technology moves forward. One thing I think is for sure – it’s coming.

The one area I haven’t seen or heard anyone talk about regarding driverless cars is the church. Today in most churches programming often has to be geared around the reality that an increasing number of our parishioners don’t drive at night (or drive at all – more on that in a moment). We want to include all demographics in the things we offer, discipleship and formation, fellowship and fun, worship and service, but driving restrictions are just as difficult to, pardon the pun, navigate as are things like work schedules and child care. I currently teach a Bible study on Acts and offer the same class in the morning and in the evening, knowing neither of those times alone would attract all those interested. In fact they are attended in almost equal numbers. I would much prefer more intergenerational gatherings, but with weekends so jam packed for young families, doing so on Saturday or Sunday doesn’t really help much, and if we offer them on a weeknight we are eliminating participation from a decent number of folks whose presence would greatly enhance the event.

While driverless cars would be really wonderful in helping reduce or eliminate driving distracted or driving under the influence, I like to also consider how they could reopen church programming to a segment of faithful people who currently cannot drive at night. 
In addition, every church struggles with transportation of elderly to Sunday morning worship when many of them are no longer able to drive at all. They have lost their independence and it is heart breaking when we are not able to consistently provide rides to church. I imagine a pool of parishioners with driverless cars who drop off their owners and then go pick up those who no longer have a way to church! What a difference this could make in their lives, the ability once again to go shopping, doctor appointments, visit friends, and worship

without being dependent on someone else to drive them!
Technology now exists where the home bound can watch church on their computer or TV. And that’s great. But Christianity at its core is an incarnational faith – God became one of us in the birth of Jesus. Flesh and blood contact matters. Being in the room or worship space with other believers is important, being able to attend formation classes and to participate in service ministries to others are huge aspects of discipleship. I can’t wait for the day when those who feel sidelined yet have much to contribute and a great desire to be in the midst of their fellow parishioners will be able to safely and regularly with the advent of this technology.

I say – bring it on! And hurry up! After all, we all know this technology is really not new….

Headed home. No way I can “retreat” with such a monster storm headed to Florida. The path looks better for panhandle right now but we all know those models are just educated guesses.

Either way lives are already being lost and incredible damage will continue along Irma’s path. Walked their beautiful labyrinth this morning praying for all victims of Harvey and Irma. May God be with you.

The retreat center is really lovely and I wish I could have stayed and prayed more with the sisters in their gorgeous chapel.

The pic is of the labyrinth which sits at the gate of the cemetery. Oldest grave I saw was from 1905!

At long last I am on retreat! I begin a silent retreat this evening (September 4). To help ME behave, I am turning off all social media access, text messaging, emails and calls. Only Jennifer will be able to reach me. However I do plan to make several blog posts during the week. My blog (I hope) will automatically post links to new blog posts to Facebook and Twitter, although I will not see any comments anyone posts on those sites until I return this weekend.
Meanwhile if you access the blog itself (itinerantpriest.org) and want an email notification whenever a new post is made, you can subscribe to such alerts on the left side of the blog main page.
Let the silence begin! Most of the time will be spent in prayer, study, and writing. God bless and stay safe everyone!

I have been trying to write about my father’s death. He died in July. I have a lot of stuff bubbling around my mind around his death, and have put some of it down. But it is much harder than I thought to keep it coherent and meaningful. I know what the title will be (Seven Last Words), but it is turning out to be pretty challenging to complete. So here is a little piece of it, maybe posting this will get me going on the rest.

As I made my way onto the verrrrrry slow elevator at a hospital recently, having just spent some time with a parishioner who was quite ill, my mind was wandering all over the landscape. It was late on a long day, and I was internally debating whether to go back to the office and the pile of work on my desk, or go home (I went home!). I was tired. I wasn’t, however, finished. For which I am glad.
Just before the elevator doors closed, a hand reached out and blocked the door. There was an African American family trying to get on. I punched the “hold door” button as they piled in, three adults, four children. They were headed out as well. They were laughing and joking about something that had just happened in their loved one’s room, when one of them noticed….”hey y’all, clean it up – there’s a man of the cloth in here”.
I get that a lot.
Of course they all immediately stared at my priest collar, some dropped their heads (giggling I might add), a couple nodded at me. I wished them a good evening. One of the men told me his father was a pastor and he had such a hard time putting his priest collar on. So when I quickly removed the tab collar I was wearing, he said “Man, I have to tell my Daddy about that one! He spends half his life getting a collar on”. As the elevator opened on the bottom floor, one of the other men grabbed my arm and asked me to pray.
I get that a lot too.
I said sure, what would you like me to pray for? By now the others in his party had gathered back around the two of us, standing in the elevator lobby. He looked at me with tears in his eyes. I made the assumption the person they were visiting must be very ill and my heart went out to him.
I was wrong.
I get that a lot.
He said, “man I am so worried about our country, about people who look like me. It seems every crazy white person in America is coming out of the woodwork now and feeling they have won the lottery. I worry about me, but most of all I worry about these kids and the America they will now grow up in. It’s always been harder for us, more dangerous for us. We’ve had to learn to cope. It just seems that the hate is rising again and I am actually scared to death.”
So I thought for a moment, and then asked for his name so I could pray for him. He gave me his name, then he said something that floored me. “Pastor, I appreciate you praying for me. But that’s not what I want you to do. I want you to pray for the government. For everyone in the government. That they will really do things for all people, to remember all were created equal. That’s all I want. To be treated fair. To be seen as equal. To have the same opportunities. I work hard. I went to school. I am raising my kids right. We want the same things for our families that white folks do. We are Americans, too! Pray for Trump and everyone he is appointing and everyone in government. Cause we are scared out here. America Great again? I don’t even know what that means but I am afraid of what it could mean. Pray for them. They need it. We need them to need it. Would you pray for them?”
I don’t get that a lot.
So we prayed. I offered some words and then he offered some words and we hugged in that elevator lobby. His kids were anxious to get moving, laughing about something, unaware of the enormous concern this man had just shared with me – a complete stranger, a “man of the cloth”, a white man who can’t even imagine what it is like to walk in his shoes every day.
His words have stayed with me. “Just treat us as equals” and “we want the same things for our families”. And most of all, “I am scared to death”. For his children. His loves.
So we must pray. And we also must pay attention and hold people accountable. A great America starts right there – with the bedrock premise that all are created equal, there is just one race, the human race, and we are all, truly, sisters and brothers. Our history shows we haven’t always behaved or governed like we believe such to be true. In fact, we rarely have. So, to quote our Episcopal Book of Common Prayer, let us pray:
“Almighty God, who hast given us this good land for our heritage: We humbly beseech thee that we may always prove ourselves a people mindful of thy favor and glad to do thy will. Bless our land with honorable industry, sound learning, and pure manners. Save us from violence, discord, and confusion; from pride and arrogance, and from every evil way. Defend our liberties, and fashion into one united people the multitudes brought here out of many kindreds and tongues. Endue with the spirit of wisdom those to whom in thy Name we entrust the authority of government, that there may be justice and peace at home, and that, through obedience to thy law, we may show forth thy praise among the nations of the earth. In the time of prosperity, fill our hearts with thankfulness, and in the day of trouble, suffer not our trust in thee to fail; all which we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. (BCP 820).
Justice. Peace. Wisdom. Thankfulness. I can pray for that. And I will. Join me.