Almost every day I come to Olathe from Overland Park. I brave the I-435 construction (which surprisingly rarely slows me down) and take I-35 south, dodging semis and slower cars. I give thanks almost everyday for the dedicated lanes to 119th Street, because they speed up my commute. Eventually I reach Santa Fe and turn right to head downtown to the church.
If you've ever taken that Santa Fe exit, you know that there is a very short entry lane before you have to move to the left to stay on the street. During the day there is always quite a bit of traffic, so I try to be conscientious in checking before I enter the lane. But late last week, I looked but failed to see someone in a white company truck -- I assume he was in my blind spot -- and I cut him off.
This would not be remarkable except for one thing. The driver became very angry. As I was stopped at the light he pulled up in the left turn lane, stopped his truck, rolled down his window yelled at me and saluted me with a bird-like gesture. (I've never known why we call it "flipping the bird" so I went onto the interwebs for enlightenment. You can take your own journey if you'd like.) In any case, this guy was mad. I shrugged, said "I'm sorry, I didn't see you" and he pulled forward and completed his left turn.
I wasn't scared. I was pretty sure that he wasn't really threatening me. It would have been truly remarkable if he'd taken the time to go any further. (Although in this day of carrying hand guns....glad I didn't think of that at the time.) But I couldn't help but ruminate on why he had been so upset.
When someone cuts me off, I do momentarily react with unkind words, although I wish I didn't. But over the years I have determined why that is. It's because for just a few seconds I am afraid. When someone cuts you off you have to change your speed or you'll hit them, and sometimes we don't have enough space to successfully avoid an accident. The adrenaline spikes and the fight or flight reaction starts and then BAM! our fear becomes anger. And that so-and-so who just caused us to be afraid should, at the least, be caused to grovel at our feet and beg our forgiveness.
Never mind that each and every one of us has, more than likely, cut someone else off in traffic at one time or another. Unless you're playing a game of revenge and purposely pull in front of someone to teach them a lesson (which has also happened to me after accidentally cutting someone off), it was done by accident, not for malicious purposes. So why is it that we jump to anger and a hateful response instead of to forgiveness?
I know that the physiological reason is the excess adrenaline. But I think there is more to it.
We feel entitled to our space. We feel entitled to feel secure and safe. If we let others do such things to us without comment maybe they will think they can just do it anytime they want to anybody they want.
Is that attitude what we learn from Jesus?
I imagine that Jesus had adrenaline pumping through his body a time or two or seven, especially after he started walking around talking about the kingdom of God and angering the powers-that-be. They were after him, and he was dodging and weaving much of the time. Anger was not the emotion that he displayed, although I imagine he had plenty he could be angry about. People were as annoying then as they can be now.
Compassion was Jesus' strong suit. It's one of the things that I admire most about him, one of the things that I aspire to learn from his example. It's not easy to go from fright to anger to compassion -- but I believe it is possible. And desirable. Not just because Jesus did it, but because it's good for me.
The sooner I let anger go and pick up the banner of compassion, the sooner my heart rate drops and my insides unknot, and that's a good thing. Anger is not a luxury that I can afford. It eats up my insides and time is doing that quickly enough as it is.
So yes, I cut the dude off that day, and I was really sorry I had scared and angered him. I wish that during that the 3 second encounter with his anger that my apology could have helped bring down his blood pressure, but I'm pretty sure it didn't. I have no idea what else was going wrong with his day; I might have just been the thing to send him over the tipping point.
I hope that he learns that anger is an expensive luxury, and most of us cannot afford very much of it. Forgiveness and compassion are sometimes difficult to find, but they are there for the taking, and are far better for everyone concerned.
If you've ever taken that Santa Fe exit, you know that there is a very short entry lane before you have to move to the left to stay on the street. During the day there is always quite a bit of traffic, so I try to be conscientious in checking before I enter the lane. But late last week, I looked but failed to see someone in a white company truck -- I assume he was in my blind spot -- and I cut him off.
This would not be remarkable except for one thing. The driver became very angry. As I was stopped at the light he pulled up in the left turn lane, stopped his truck, rolled down his window yelled at me and saluted me with a bird-like gesture. (I've never known why we call it "flipping the bird" so I went onto the interwebs for enlightenment. You can take your own journey if you'd like.) In any case, this guy was mad. I shrugged, said "I'm sorry, I didn't see you" and he pulled forward and completed his left turn.
I wasn't scared. I was pretty sure that he wasn't really threatening me. It would have been truly remarkable if he'd taken the time to go any further. (Although in this day of carrying hand guns....glad I didn't think of that at the time.) But I couldn't help but ruminate on why he had been so upset.
When someone cuts me off, I do momentarily react with unkind words, although I wish I didn't. But over the years I have determined why that is. It's because for just a few seconds I am afraid. When someone cuts you off you have to change your speed or you'll hit them, and sometimes we don't have enough space to successfully avoid an accident. The adrenaline spikes and the fight or flight reaction starts and then BAM! our fear becomes anger. And that so-and-so who just caused us to be afraid should, at the least, be caused to grovel at our feet and beg our forgiveness.
Never mind that each and every one of us has, more than likely, cut someone else off in traffic at one time or another. Unless you're playing a game of revenge and purposely pull in front of someone to teach them a lesson (which has also happened to me after accidentally cutting someone off), it was done by accident, not for malicious purposes. So why is it that we jump to anger and a hateful response instead of to forgiveness?
I know that the physiological reason is the excess adrenaline. But I think there is more to it.
We feel entitled to our space. We feel entitled to feel secure and safe. If we let others do such things to us without comment maybe they will think they can just do it anytime they want to anybody they want.
Is that attitude what we learn from Jesus?
I imagine that Jesus had adrenaline pumping through his body a time or two or seven, especially after he started walking around talking about the kingdom of God and angering the powers-that-be. They were after him, and he was dodging and weaving much of the time. Anger was not the emotion that he displayed, although I imagine he had plenty he could be angry about. People were as annoying then as they can be now.
Compassion was Jesus' strong suit. It's one of the things that I admire most about him, one of the things that I aspire to learn from his example. It's not easy to go from fright to anger to compassion -- but I believe it is possible. And desirable. Not just because Jesus did it, but because it's good for me.
The sooner I let anger go and pick up the banner of compassion, the sooner my heart rate drops and my insides unknot, and that's a good thing. Anger is not a luxury that I can afford. It eats up my insides and time is doing that quickly enough as it is.
So yes, I cut the dude off that day, and I was really sorry I had scared and angered him. I wish that during that the 3 second encounter with his anger that my apology could have helped bring down his blood pressure, but I'm pretty sure it didn't. I have no idea what else was going wrong with his day; I might have just been the thing to send him over the tipping point.
I hope that he learns that anger is an expensive luxury, and most of us cannot afford very much of it. Forgiveness and compassion are sometimes difficult to find, but they are there for the taking, and are far better for everyone concerned.
