Easter 5

A police officer pulled a driver over to the side of I-75 and asked for his license and registration.

“What’s wrong, officer?” the driver replied. “I certainly wasn’t speeding.”

“No you weren’t,” said the officer, “But I saw you flashing the one-fingered salute as you swerved around the lady driving in the left lane, and I further observed your flushed and angry face as you shouted at the driver of the cyber truck who cut you off, and how you pounded your steering wheel when the traffic ground to a stop.”

“Is that a crime, officer?”

“No, but when I saw the ‘Jesus loves you and so do I’ bumper sticker on the car, I figured, ‘This car has got to be stolen.’”

Traffic can be a problem. Disfunction Junction, where I-275 and I-4 meet, is eternally snarled. I-4 is the deadliest interstate in America, mile for mile. One must learn to drive defensively, because most of the others out there are driving offensively.

Or you can give up and become a slug, if you live in the right place. When my brother-in-law worked at the Pentagon, he would commute to work as a slug.  He would arrive at a designated slug line in the far suburbs of Virginia. The slugs waited for a Pentagon-bound commuter to drive up, then piled into the car.  The full car then qualified the vehicle to drive in the HOV lanes on I-95, thereby quickening the occupants’ daily trip to work. Slug etiquette required all passengers to remain silent for the trip and no loud music was to be played by the driver.

Alas, there are no slug lines down here in Tampa, as far as I know.  Just more and more cars on the road as more and more people move into the area. And so, we get to test our brakes (and horns) more and more.

It’s not just on the highways, either. Getting around Davis Islands on a bicycle can be treacherous.  Not only are bikes invisible to the drivers there, but many folks treat stop signs as mere suggestions. It might be summed up as straightforward discourtesy and a selfish disregard for civilizing conventions.

In our personal lives, it might also be the dehumanizing disregard of people and holding our own selfish desires as ultimate. The antidote isn’t complicated. It’s one four-letter word with a deep and ancient meaning — love.

So how does love of neighbor, love of each other, unclog onerous, aggressive traffic, and help me get to work, or the store, or my destination?

Loving each other — as Jesus taught us — means slowly learning to see other people, other drivers, as human beings, not just as cars. Through the lens of love, we see that in each car is a driver and that each driver is a person, and each person is a child of God.

Seeing in this way means understanding that each person, in or out of a car, is deserving of our loving kindness, just as God loves us (Titus 3:4).

Jesus said, “So now I’m giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other. Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples.” That includes when we are driving, Jesus might have added, had he owned a car (John 13:34-35).

Here some driving pet peeves are instructive, and might help us as we “drive in the lanes of love”:

• Not checking blind spots. Do you blindly make changes in your life, taking no notice of who might be hurt in the process? Are you ever harmed when blindsided?

• Not yielding to pedestrians. Do you live as if it never matters who gets in your way? Do your choices frighten those around you? Do you feel as if someone, or everyone, is trying to run you down?

• Not waiting for a clear intersection when making a left turn. Do you live as if you are the only one who matters, believing you’ll never get hurt? If you’re at a life crossroads, do you feel vulnerable, exposed?

• Not using turn signals. Do you make sudden changes in life without communicating? Do people around you make unsettling moves without telling you?

• Rolling through stop signs instead of stopping. Do you disregard signs indicating that disaster looms? Or have you been unexpectedly broadsided?

There’s a bumper sticker that reads: “In fact, I do own the road.” Some people don’t see the failure to follow the rules of the road, or the rules of civil life, as a problem. They live life like they drive: with a NASCAR mentality and at the end of the day their lives are in worse shape than a three-car pileup at rush hour — nothing left but toe-tag Christians. Might as well bag ’em and ship ’em to the morgue, because they’re useless, worthless Christians who don’t know why God has put them on this earth.

Jesus didn’t use that metaphor, but he used a different one in John Chapter 15: “If anyone does not remain in me, he is like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned” (John 15:6).

The NASCAR mentality is fine for the oval track. Dale Earnhardt wasn’t called the Intimidator for nothing.

Jesus was pretty clear about the rules of proper living. He wanted his disciples to understand the etiquette of how to behave. It was important enough to him that it was nearly the last thing he told them before his death. “Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples” (v. 35).

Charles Lowery has discovered that there are a lot of positive things about driving an old car. You can just pull out and not worry about dents and dings. He tells the story of sitting at a traffic light and getting bumped from behind. That would have really upset him in a new car, but it didn’t bother him a bit in an old car. He got out and asked the other guy if he was hurt. The guy said he was sorry, but he didn’t have insurance. Lowery looked at the guy’s car and realized he didn’t have much of anything.

So, the key to loving one another? Drive an old car.

If we’re serious about our discipleship with Jesus, there are some “driving tips” for life that’ll serve us in every circumstance.

Jesus notes that it’s easy to love those who love you. How about loving your enemy?

Love God above all things. This means worshiping nothing — success, or wealth, or beauty, or power, or getting to our destination, or anything else — more than God.

Love our neighbor as ourselves.

Ultimately, all the rules of the road have a singular purpose — public safety balanced with transportation needs. Ultimately, loving each other will build a more civil, safer society. We don’t know if this is specifically what Jesus had in mind during the Last Supper, but we do know that loving each other was most important to him.

And remember, love is the soy sauce on the chop suey of life.