I just read about a 36-page document issued by the Vatican last week. The document is entitled GUIDELINES FOR THE PASTORAL CARE OF THE ROAD. It is essentially a compendium of “do’s and don’ts” concerning the moral dimension of vehicular conduct.
At the heart of the documents are “nine commandments” that I found to be particularly meaningful:
I: You shall not kill.
II. The road shall be for you a means of communion between people and not of mortal harm.
III. Courtesy, uprightness and prudence will help you deal with unforeseen events.
IV. Be charitable and help your neighbour in need, especially victims of accidents.
V. Cars shall not be for you an expression of power and domination, and an occasion of sin.
VI. Charitably convince the young and not so young not to drive when they are not in a fitting condition to do so.
VII. Support the families of accident victims.
VIII. Bring guilty motorists and their victims together, at the appropriate time, so that they can undergo the liberating experience of forgiveness.
IX. On the road, protect the more vulnerable party.
Quite frankly, I see this document as an indication of the Vatican getting something right. My personal experience tells me that our roads, streets, and highways are places of daily spiritual crisis. Millions of desperate souls, some stressed by their day at the office, others angry about what their lives have become, take to the road every day. They climb into the sanctuary of their vehicle and genuflect to the altar of the dashboard. Some of these people listen to music that is superficial and dehumanizing. Some scream obscenities at anyone who dares either to violate their vehicular rights or to impede their vehicular progress. Others implement what my father used to call the “one finger salute.”
When I pause to examine my own conduct on the road, I am saddened by the realization that, all too often, I am guilty of objectifying or even demonizing other motorists, reducing them to faceless competitors instead of seeing them as fellow travelers. Too frequently, in other words, I fail to recognize the spiritual nature of every trip I make in the car. In my eagerness to compartmentalize my life, I see my vehicle as merely an “unspiritual” resource that will transport me from one “spiritual” event to another.
The problem, of course, is that, if we fail to recognize the spiritual nature of our vehicular behavior, we will permit ourselves to behave like complete jackasses on the road, provoking other people and dishonoring the Christ that we are to serve in every segment of our living (even when we’re behind the wheel). I grow weary of hearing Christian people rationalizing their road rage and their road rudeness with simplistic dismissals: “Well…that’s just the way I am. Bad drivers just bring out the worst in me.”
I greatly appreciate the Vatican’s willingness to recognize the spiritual nature of our conduct on the road. It is time for Protestants to follow suit.
How would the dynamics on our roads change, I wonder, if all Christ-followers were intentional about looking upon their vehicles as holy sanctuaries, places where a reverence for God is nurtured and the love of Christ is practiced?
One news report described the content of GUIDELINES FOR THE PASTORAL CARE OF THE ROAD in this fashion:
In short the objective is to promote ‘road ethics’ to which the Church feels it should and must contribute, by denouncing dangerous situations and by urging Catholics to use their radios to produce songs whose content are not superficial and whose lyrics might promote personal formation. Beyond this, the document encourages Catholics to worship as they travel by periodically celebrating the liturgy while stopped at intersections and while enjoying meals at roadside restaurants.
So, then. Here’s our re-worded portion of liturgy for the day:
The Lord be with you!
AND ALSO WITH YOU!
Lift up your car, truck, or SUV!
WE LIFT THEM UP TO THE LORD!
Being an instructor to my son, and his attempt to learn the rules of the road, navigate the construction maze, balance between the speed limit and which radio station to listen to, watch for rude and agressive driver, and listen to the continuous instruction of a parent, adding the aformentioned 9 Commandments would throw a panick into the heart of my 16 year old.
Sounds a bit LEAVE IT TO BEAVER to me, but I am sure Ward told the Beav the Commandments in a way that it influenced his driving behaviour forever!
I never watched “Leave It to Beaver.” It was before my time!
But I did watch “Mr. Ed”—which reminds me of how urgent it is to teach young Ty not to act like a horse’s patootie when he’s behind the wheel.
That marks the very first time that I used the phrase “horse’s patootie” in this blog.
I suspect it will not be the last!
Two thoughts:
#1 - I’m glad to see there are Evangelical ministers out there who see fit to learn from our Catholic brothers and sisters. I was born/raised by wonderful Catholic parents, and I never felt called away from the Catholic church, as much as feeling called TO a more Scripture-centered ministry. There is much the Catholic have to teach us, and I only pray that we will have the humility to listen and learn.
#2 - Your thoughts make me reflect on how often we Christians make so much of “sacred space” (i.e. seeing our church building as “God’s house)…and in the process we fail to train our congregations to regard anywhere as a “sacred space” where Christ can be encountered. I’ve been reading a lot in the area of Celtic Christianity, and these were people who knew how to make any place, and any activity, sacred.
Jeff…
Concerning your thoughts on “sacred space”…
I’m reminded of the difference between “temple” and “tabernacle”. In the Old Testament, the temple was a fixed geographical location. The tabernacle, by contrast, was portable. It went where the people went.
Leonard Sweet plays with this imagery a great deal, even going so far as to change the noun “tabernacle” into a verb, all for the purpose of challenging Christians to be about the business of “tabernacling” (i.e., transforming every day spaces–like the automobile–into places in which the presence of God is revered and encountered).
NEVER WATCHED LEAVE IT TO BEAVER??????? How dare you speak such a lie?
UGH!
Eric–I can think of two very specific circumstances in which I could have used these Guidelines. Both have to do with the helplessness I felt in watching older drivers drive beyond their ability to be safe. Had I seen this as an act of compassion and pastoral care–even a sacred trust–I might have stopped them sooner. Rather I was looking for “the authorities” (doctors and State Police) to do for me what I was too timid to do for myself.
I think driving in general, puts people in a situation of absolute control which they don’t get through other facets of life. They decide how fast to go, when to pass and when to be aggressive or defensive. We aren’t used to having that sort of power, so we misuse it. We take risks we would never otherwise take, say things that we’d never say in public, and break rules we would in other situations respect. Driving is the one place where people’s will to power is allowed to surface.
When I read
“Lift up your car, truck, or SUV!
WE LIFT THEM UP TO THE LORD!”
I picture the Incredible Hulk holding a vehicle high above his head. Hopefully aiding accident victims, not doing it out of anger.
I also agree that people often worhsip one way and act another outside of church. So I appreciate the way you remind us every Sunday to eliminate the inconsistencies between the way we worship and the way we live.
Greetings to a faster Pastor:
Did you know that the right foot is the last part of a Christian to be sanctified? My sinful ego-centric side says, “Anybody going slower than me is a moron, and anyone going faster than me is a maniac.”
Anyway, back to important work. Eric, can you get a copy of the Vaatican’s document? It would be perfect for a “Whereas statement” for a piece of legislation for next year’s Annual Conference. I need some help figuring where it should be introduced into the Discipline. What do you think? Would you like to cosponsor?
Brad
Yeah…the new liturgy is probably better than “lift up your finger…”