I was visiting a certain parish yesterday. The church is beautiful, tastefully adorned, and has pretty good acoustics. The choir was singing softly and with compunction. The people, silently praying along, appeared to be greatly edified by the atmosphere of joyful sorrow and immersed themselves in it to the purification of their souls. No doubt the dignified bearing and dedicated ministry of the deacons and altar servers freed them from distractions and allowed them to partake of this rich spiritual fare.
But even though the worshipers are warned to mute or shut off their phones before entering the church, it became quickly apparent that an altar server forgot to do so. For as the priest silently begged for the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the holy gifts set forth, one of the young men received a phone call. The soft singing of the choir, the silence of the people, and the acoustics of the building ensured that his phone, though stuffed somewhere in a pants pocket under a cassock and sticharion, could be heard clearly from just about anywhere.
Oh, how pleasing it would've been if his ring tone was the sound of bell-ringing or a hymn to the Holy Spirit. But--oh, the horror!--instead, this was his ring tone
, complete with lyrics and in crystal-clear HD quality, which, resounding through the church as the sound of the archangel's trumpet, caused no little stir. Confusion was quickly replaced by shock at the content of the song, followed by amusement as the altar server tried, utterly in vain, to get to his phone and shut it off. In this noble struggle, he was seen shifting about in what can only be described as a poorly executed but gradually intensifying Macarena, desperately trying to find his phone under layers of robes. All in all, we watched and listened to this spectacle for about a whole minute.
And that's how our theosis for the day came to an untimely end.