A while ago I blogged about my lovely new phone that thought it was an iphone but wasn’t. When I ordered it my phone company told me I had 30 days in which to change my mind. “Ha!” I thought (for my thoughts are sometimes little). “I will never want to exchange this phone-sized handful of gorgeousness. I will never tire of the lovely touch screen. The colours and sounds are too lovely to even contemplate getting rid of.”
So today I phoned my phone company and arranged to exchange the phone (26 days after delivery).
I still can’t quite believe it.
The problem is that while it looks gorgeous and has some wonderful features, it does not do all that it says it will. The blurb and even the manual talk glowingly about how it synchronises with Outlook’s Calendar. That is one of the prime functions I want. However the software that comes with the phone and synchronises it with the computer simply says that this function will be available “soon”. No suggestion of when “soon” will be. And then there’s the failure of the system to send and receive emails, even though every single setting is correct.
Substance wins over style. Eventually.
I wonder if this is a modern parable. The parable of the foolish technophile. He was seduced by the good looks and wonderful promises of a phone that ultimately did not deliver and realised (just in time) that he was better off with a more reliable and less glamorous phone. So it is with our faith. Sometimes other lifestyles (and perhaps even other faiths) can look more attractive. But ultimately they will not deliver what they promise and it is only good old Jesus on whom we can rely. The grass may look greener on the other side, but in reality we will find that it is artificial turf!
Bernard, who is noted for his gracious manners, was awakened one morning at four forty four a.m. by his ringing telephone. . .
“Your dog’s barking, and it’s keeping me awake,” said an angry voice.
Bernard thanked the caller and politely asked his name and number before hanging up.
The next morning at precisely four forty four a.m., Bernard called his neighbour back.
“Good morning, Mr. Williams…. Just called to say that I don’t have a dog.”