The Bungee Cord  7-28-19

Hello,

     As some of you know, I grew up in Hinsdale, Illinois. 17 miles from Chicago.  It was a quaint little suburban town, an idyllic place to grow up.  Except for learning how to drive.   At the time I thought nothing of the congestion, the highway speeds, and the assertiveness that I developed, but as I have moved into more rural areas, I wonder how I made it through my younger and learning years as a driver.  There are some with whom I drive now, who share my amazement by the way that I drive.

     So, I was driving home from visiting a friend in Maryland. It is major interstates the whole way. The traffic was significantly heavy the entire way with little open high way.   Even though it has been many decades since my suburban, highway driving, I still find myself easily provoked by “bad” drivers.  I don’t like it when semi’s venture into “my” lane, the passing lane, and slow me down as they inch their way past a slower moving truck.  I don’t like it when  someone drives in “my” lane at the speed limit and won’t move into the slower lane…. I confess that I always add a couple of mph’s to the speed limit when I drive.  And I don’t like it when people slow down….and even stop!...on an on-ramp!  The Chicago driver still has its foot on my gas pedal and my hands on the steering wheel.

     Anyway, as I was driving along on my way home yesterday, even I decided that I should slow down as I was coming up to a car in the outside lane.  It looked to me that the car was a convertible and its roof was coming off. Trouble!  But, as I neared it, I discovered that I was wrong.  In actuality, it was a Volkswagen Jetta station wagon with a foam mattress strapped to its roof.  The mattress had become a sail, creating a 45 degree angle with the roof, one end of it just above the back bumper, and the other end rising into the sky.  It was strapped to the roof by two straps, one crossing the first third of the mattress, and the other crossing the back third.  No part of the mattress was touching the car.  As I reached the car, I looked at the driver who was calmly smoking a cigarette, travelling at 70 miles an hour.  Not wanting to be the one upon whom this sailing mattress would take its flight, I punched my gas pedal and passed it.

     Surely, I thought, this person would be aware of the danger that they were causing and pull off the road, but no.  We passed a rest stop….the car did not exit.  We past several exits, and the car did not exit. And finally when I got off the turnpike at the Donegal exit, the car with mattress a-sail passed me on the interstate as I got off.  And as I exited, I thought to myself with my Chicago driving mind, “Where did that person learn to drive!?!”

     I suspect that the same thing could be said of me, not of my driving on highways, but of my driving in life.  “Where did you learn to drive.”  I say that because I am sure that there are many times in my life when I have driven foolishly in life, not thinking of the consequences of my driving (figuratively, that is).  Endangering people by decisions that I have made.  Causing fear in others.  Completely unaware of my foolishness, pressing on as if I was in the right.  

     And I am certain that there are many times in my life that God has come upon me and can’t believe what he sees.  I am sure that God has come upon me and wondered how I could be so foolish….and dangerous.  Do I intend to cause pain in the lives of others…in the heart of God?  Most often not.  Most often the pain that I cause is beyond my intent, a result of foolish ignorance of systemic entrapment.  But here’s the thing…as I look at the cross…the most foolish pain that humans could have ever brought upon the heart of God…I hear a word from Jesus, “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.”

     I trust in that word of forgiveness, for I know that I have much more in common that that foolish mattress driver than I would wish. I thank God that God forgives even my foolish ignorance.  But more than that, I thank God that God’s forgiveness gives me the courage to look honestly at my life so that I can without defensiveness see my foolishness and not be so foolish, and likewise be humble enough to forgive other people’s foolishness.

     Thank you, Lord, for forgiving me, even when I am a fool.  Thank you, Lord, for opening my eyes to my foolishness.  And thank you, Lord, for helping me look upon the foolishness of others with forgiveness, too.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger