Phones in the Great Hall

What if we didn’t bring our phones into the Great Hall? 

“But that’s crazy,” you say, “because most of us need them to get in!” Yes, I’m aware of this conundrum. But join me in imagining what it would be like if you left your phone in your dorm room and just brought your Scots Card. Okay, you with me? Great.

Imagine eating a meal without your phone. You wouldn’t have such an easy way out of trying to make conversation with the friend of your friend that you are now sitting next to. 

“He’s on his phone,” we say, “so that means it’s okay for me to be on mine.” 

“Maybe she just wants to be left alone. After all, she pulled out her phone first.” 

“We’re vibing together.” 

“I don’t want to make it weird or anything.” 

“Small talk is overrated, anyway.” 

But what if you didn’t have that option? What if you were out of your comfort zone without anywhere to retreat? Does that scare you as much as it scares me, to the point that you start making excuses like the ones I make?  

“I would hate not being able to listen to music when I’ve been overwhelmed by socializing all day and just need to hide myself from the chaos.” 

“But I want to capture my favorite people in the times that they’re truly themselves.” 

These excuses are both valid commentaries on what it means to be human, especially for me. I like my alone time, and, being a photographer, having a phone is quite a blessing when you want to capture quick memories of your friends.

But what would the positives be of getting rid of that basically-vital piece of technology? Would we learn to talk to our friends more honestly? “Hey, I had a rough day and just need to sit with someone who will respect my silence.” Could we take the step of being honest with even our acquaintances? Could we humble ourselves to listen to them and respect their need for silence, a listening ear, or someone to encourage them? 

What if we intentionally acted as the body of Christ—as His ears, His arms, and His tactile ambassadors to each other. I know that I often forget that my family in Christ needs to see Him in me just as much as my unsaved friends need to see Him. 

This attitude isn’t optional—it’s required by God as an outward expression of the change within. While taking phones out of the equation isn’t the cure-all, and it’s surely possible to be intentional even with our phones, I hope that that mental picture helps put into focus the things that we let distract us.  

Just imagine yourself fully engaged: the level of impact you would have, and the love you could let God show others through you. How is that different from how you were today? What could you do to get closer to that level of intentionality with people? These are the questions I want to keep asking myself in this new semester, and I hope you’ll join me. Let’s see what it looks like to be not just a friendly face, but an actual friend, to those around us.