Several times over the past few weeks, I realized that I had gone for hours with my phone in silent mode. I frequently put my phone in airplane mode or set it to its silent setting when I am doing something for which I do not want to be interrupted. For example, I’ll put my phone in airplane mode as I enter the sanctuary for worship or when conversing with someone. Then, after the worship service or conversation has ended, I forget about the phone and leave it silent for an extended time, sometimes for the rest of the day. When I do so, I am not only ignoring voice calls, but I also ignore text messages, emails, and other communications.

I am retired, so my phone isn’t all that busy. Most of the messages I receive are advertising messages encouraging me to purchase a product I probably don’t want. Someone has been trying to contact me a few times about something important. I’ve had to apologize recently for being slow to respond to communications sent to me with the best intentions.

I am not a big social media user. Although I have Facebook and Instagram accounts, I rarely post on them. This website is my primary way of expressing myself online. However, I occasionally see and respond to social media alerts when my phone is turned on and out of airplane mode.

In my forgetfulness about my phone, I have been reminded of something I used to know: There is great value in being unplugged and disconnected. Setting aside my devices allows me to listen more intently and connect more deeply with the people around me. Not only do I not need a 24/7 newsfeed, but I am also happier when I do not check the latest news on my phone throughout the day.

Jonathan Haidt's New York Times Best-Selling book, The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness, urgently appeals to unplugging from technology, especially for children and youth. He chronicles the shift from play-based to phone-based childhoods over the past few decades and outlines practical steps that parents, communities, and houses of worship can take to change when and how children encounter media.

Our children were grown up before personal phones began to dominate our culture. They did not have cell phones in high school, and neither did their peers. Our grandchildren are growing up in a vastly different world. Portable Internet devices are essential for children to engage in research, connect with peers, and remain safe. I’ve heard many parents talking about getting their elementary child a cell phone so the child can call for help in a dangerous situation. While I understand their fear and desire to keep children safe, I am also aware of the dangers that constant connection presents to children.

I am not arguing for burying one’s head in the sand and cutting off all Internet use. Neither is Jonathan Haidt in his excellent book. When a phone is necessary for safety and essential communication, a simple phone will suffice without having a child or teen constantly connected to social media. Contemporary parents often go overboard with “stranger danger” and avoiding risk by limiting free play while at the same time ignoring the research on what is required to keep children safe from predators and other dangers that are a part of the Internet.

I have become very dependent on my cell phone. For nearly five years now, cell phones have been our only phones. We no longer have a landline in our home. On the other hand, our house has a fiber optic connection to high-speed Internet that allows us to remain connected. Many places I go these days, from the library to church to local shops, have free wifi connection. However, I have grown to value opportunities to disconnect. Here are some things that are important for children and adults.

Quiet contemplation is a vital life skill. It requires time to think, pray, and be quiet every day. Everyone can benefit from setting aside devices and simply sitting quietly.

Going outside every day is vital for a balanced life. We have learned to appreciate the value of bundling up and walking even in inclement weather. However, I lose my connection with the natural world when I get too busy and spend too much time indoors. Feeling the wind and rain on my face is critical to maintaining emotional balance.

Find in-person gatherings. I am grateful for technology’s capacity to keep me connected with folks who are far away. I regularly connect over the Internet with friends in other time zones and countries. There are days when I will have three or four meetings over Zoom on the same day. I have reached an age where sometimes I prefer logging onto my computer to getting out and driving to a meeting in the evening. But I also know the value of being with others in a shared space. I find online worship to be far less engaging than in-person worship. As much as I enjoy connecting with my sister with random text messages or sharing a FaceTime call with my daughter whenever I want, I also long to be together with those important people. Calls are no substitute for traveling to be together, and the times when we are in the same place at the same time are very valuable.

In-person connections are not just crucial with close family and friends. I have come to appreciate the value of talking to strangers. Despite the fears of strangers that are often encouraged by politicians and others, people who are different from me are not generally dangerous. I find essential connections when I look a stranger in the eye and acknowledge their presence. Recently, when I greeted a person who probably has no house, he said, “All I want to for the people walking by to see me.” I got an experience that others did not simply by saying, “Hello.”

I still have my devices, but in these troubled times, I am learning to value my ability to set them aside and make connections that aren’t mediated by technology.