Saturday, August 29, 2015

Sun, Solitude and Sanctification


In spite of the freedoms our founding fathers won for us, their descendants, some at the cost of their own lives, in recent years that which we considered sacred and virtually “cut in stone” seems to have eroded a bit. One only has to consider the NSA, and their obtrusive monitoring of all cellphone, email and social media communications.

Now there’s a whole new way to intrude into our private lives.

Recently a Benedictine monk, Brother Joseph Byron, by name, who works at a Rhode Island school, was sunbathing, and a pesky drone managed to film him in pursuit of those lovely rays. (Did I mention that Brother Joseph frequently climbs a two hundred foot high wind turbine, pops out the trap door, spreads a blanket and lays down on the un-bordered roof of that massive structure)?

Some media reports claimed that, upon noticing the drone hovering in his personal space, the good priest sat up and “flipped off” that robotic camera in the sky. (Not literally, as it was obviously beyond his reach. We’re talking a one-fingered salute here).

However, I’ve seen the video, and there was none of that. As his Irish compatriots might have mused, “None of that a’tall.” But when I first heard the report of his supposed sacrilege, I was ready to look him up, and give him a dose of Protestant sanctification. But apparently that won’t be necessary. No, it seems my good brother is better than all that.

As the drone makes its pilgrimage to what for a few recurring minutes, at least, becomes an ad-lib chapel in the sky, and a place of sun and serenity, the priest ceases from examining his navel, or whatever religious pursuit he is about, sits up, studies the identified flying object a moment, and… waves. And as the air robot draws closer, the non-descript little man throws both hands out in a “so what is all this all about” gesture, and ultimately goes back to his pursuit of sun and solace.

While I have never thought of the average workaday priest as a bastion of courage, this guy must possess a massive escroto to regularly whip out a blanket, lie down on an unfenced platform in the sky, and risk the possibility of

… falling asleep.

I hope he doesn’t sleep walk.
 
By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 5

 

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