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In the iPhone Line – Part Two

Then something strange happened. At hour five, tired, greasy and unashamed about owning the floor as our resting place we hit nirvana. The conversation bobbed like a well heated lava lamp. We moved inch by inch with the grizzly floor assurance deep in the soul that we were in the right. All doubt had left. We reached that place few humans experience. Sold-out-ness.
The long journey from Stride Rite to Pac Sun was meant to be. We knew now the black Apple store was within our reach. There was not a single thought of turning back.

Just about then, the Apple employees emerged with free pizza. Even though it was only one piece of cardboard and cheese per line dweller, we held our slice high in victory. It was pirate treasure won by sweat and sword. All double dipped in the communal garlic and melted butter packet. We were family – bonded beyond the fear of germs.

As the actual store loomed right before us, the line’s own life force grew hulkishly strong. A long line, like a road trip, prison cell, camping tent, or foxhole can bond even the most diverse group. From age 18 to 50, partiers to pastor – we talked, laughed, debated and became something more then just iPhone customers.

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We discussed which cell phone we hated (sorry Treos, you did not fair well this day), why we were in line now (most of us had broken phones in our pockets), travel, classical music, marijuana, evolution, the benefits of parties on boats, fake I.D.s, pay rates for city lifeguards vs. waterpark lifeguards, the effect of little sleep and Smirnoff, youtube (of course), hacking iPhones, theology and getting around ATT’s upgrade requirements (open the account on your dad’s account and then switch it over to yours later was the word,) among many other topics.

I am not insolated from the average person in my community, church going or not. I have many non-believers in my house, almost every week. That being said, after 6 hours in the line, I am ashamed to admit how much I learned about my own Christian buble tendencies. These people who were strategy and theory to me are all now real. Their lives, wants and attitudes will impact how I think about doing ministry for a long time.

I wonder what would happen if every pastor was required to spend six hours on a Saturday with a random group of mostly teens and twenties?

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