My Sunday nights are devoted to a practical theology class. Most of the time, Penelope facilitates. As her co-mentor (with my personal computer and a paid Zoom account), I manage the electronics. I giggle every time I consider this. Glad I have Mojo Banana, aka “MB,” along for the ride. My puppet is the timekeeper and pops up if things get out of hand.
Technology is not my thing. Yes, I value clear and functional communication across the airwaves. I appreciate social media, marveling that 10+ languages show up on my Facebook page. I can practically see worldwide connections taking shape and evolving. I treasure the opportunities Zoom and the like have afforded us during the pandemic—playing “Among Us” with family on Thanksgiving Day, puzzling with Mom when her retirement community locked down, zoom Morning Prayer and livestream Eucharists, slide shows with friends, etc.
But really? “One who facilitates technology” has never been on my resume.
Last week I served as class facilitator for the first time while Penelope was on vacation. Thank God, we retreated to Zoom-only for class instead of trying the cathedral’s hybrid equipment again. While I am happy to see person-to-person opportunities increasing within the faith community I love, I was not ready to facilitate, and simultaneously host in hybrid fashion.
What a great time we had together—sublime sharing of our personal stories followed by interesting text discussions. MB was rock-and-rolling too, keeping an eye on the clock. And then, about 10 minutes before the end of class when we were shifting to closing prayers (and I had probably said too much for transition), BAM! My wi-fi connection dropped out completely!
Even given the wind outside (or was it God’s lesson to me about who was in control after all?), the group continued seamlessly. I had to laugh. As our Deacon Earl had preached that very morning, “The opposite of faith isn’t doubt, it’s control.” I could only control things so much. As usual, Peace reigned, very practically and all.