A few years ago I was on a trip over to Chattanooga when I glanced in my rear-view mirror and saw a silver car with black trim and black writing on the hood. “Oh oh,” I thought, “it’s the Highway Patrol.” First thing I did was check my speed. Okay, not speeding. Then I proceeded to drive very carefully, maintained my lane, used appropriate turn signals to change lanes, etc. And the car stayed right behind me, six car lengths back. This went on for ten or fifteen minutes as I grew progressively anxious. “Why are they following me?” “Have I done anything wrong?” “Is my License Plate expired?” “Do I have a tail light out?” “What!?”

I got particularly nervous when the road widened out to two lanes on my side and four or five cars passed both the patrol car and me, going at least ten miles over the speed limit in the process. “Why aren’t they going after them? Why are they still following me?” As I drew up to a stop light my paranoia was really high; I was thinking of pulling over and putting my hands in the air. The silver and black car pulled up beside me and then I could read: STUDENT DRIVER written across the front. I felt equal parts silly and relieved. Then the passenger side window in the student car was rolled down and the rider signaled me to put mine down. When I did, the driving instructor thanked me for being such a good role model of correct and careful driving. (Apologies to anyone who has ever ridden with me, but it appears I am capable of good driving if I put my mind to it. You can stop laughing now.) I smiled a weak and humble smile, waved and nodded. I was too ashamed of myself to actually say anything; being thanked under false pretenses and all.

Well, I soon recovered and began thinking about both literature and theology, as is my wont. First I remembered a famous line from the Flannery O’Connor’s short story, A Good Man is Hard to Find. A character called the Misfit says about a mean old grandmother who died trying to save her grandchildren’s lives, “she would have been a good woman if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life." The Misfit and his fellow criminals were like the Highway Patrol in one respect - their constant surveillance created a situation in which one felt compelled to do the right thing.

The theology question for us as a people of faith is this. “Do we need a Heavenly Highway Patrolperson watching our every move in order for us to do the right thing? Is it necessary for us to be pushed into a corner, confronted with dire matters of life and death, for us to summon up the courage to trust God and follow Christ?” The point of living together in Christian community - joining one another in worship, prayer, Bible study, and caring action in the community - is that we be shaped into a people whose Christianity is natural and not forced; people who will do the right thing not to please God, or to avoid God’s wrath, or because we must. Our aim is to be people who to do the right and loving thing because it is simply who we have become in response to God’s love for us.

Peace,
Delmer