Way back in my day I didn't text my friend, I knocked on his door and asked his mom if he could come out and play. Way back in my day everything wasn't padded and helmeted —sometimes I fell down. And it hurt. And then I got up and played some more. Way back in my day there weren't 958 different kinds of cereal in the grocery store cereal aisle - and when my mom wasn't looking I'd pile sugar on top of my Cheerios like snow had drifted in my bowl.
Way back in my day...Sunday was a special day. A day for worship. A day for family.
As a priest I talk with people all the time about all sorts of things. But there's one conversation that lately I have over and over again. It goes like this: Someone comes up to me looking very guilty, and tells me that they can't come to church that week, because one of their children has sports practice.
On a Sunday morning.
Not a game. Practice.
I'm not the kind of person who wields guilt, but rather I try to assuage it. And so I genuinely tell the parent that I understand, I feel their pain, I know life is busy, it's not long till I'll be dealing with that as a parent, and we'll see them next week.
And then that guilty look washes over their face again...
Despite my ridiculous opening paragraph, I really try not to be a "crotchety" old guy who yearns for the blissful way "we used to do it." But, as a culture and a community have we lost a sense of the sacred?
I remember when Sunday used to be a day when nothing much happened but worship, Sunday dinner, and football. It was a time to be together. Take a Sunday drive. Take a nap.
Then Sunday afternoon came into play for games. And then Sunday mornings for games.
And then practices.
Sport activities were even in full-swing on Mother's Day.
I know I'm grabbing onto the third-rail here, but I really don't think our kids' athletic abilities will completely degrade by observing a Sunday morning of peace, quiet, family-togetherness - and for those who are so inclined — worship.
In fact, if we reexamined our priorities, I think we'd all be a little happier. A little more rested — ready to hit the field on Monday.
And, maybe we'd regain a sense of the sacred.
What would be the ideal Sunday morning for you and your family? When do you find time for "sacred time?"