| Riding the Pub T |
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We're a one car family in our lovely, suburban Ohio home. Every day Dad drives our mini-van to his work on the west side, we live on the east side. This is essential background information. You see, when I came home from school this past May I had a series of interviews lined up and I was ready to get my summer employment and start making money to send me back to school in the Fall. Of course, nothing is ever so simple. Jobs fell through, the hunt was renewed, and, finally, I was blessed with employment--on the west side. And, of course, the hours were completely off-kilter with Father's. So, this left me with a very serious question: could I, as a Christian environmentalist (as I like to consider myself), justify my mom driving Dad to work, coming back for me, driving me to work a little later, probably driving home again, and then going back to dad's work for him before coming back for me. I can feel the earth groaning just thinking about the wasted gas. Therefore, aiming to reduce our gas bill, save Mom time, and practice a little bit of what I preach, I decided to take the plunge and use public transportation. Naturally, I began my journey with Google maps, where I entered my address and my destination's, and clicked the "Public Transport" button. I quickly discovered Google maps is not the best source for finding bus info. Leastways, I didn't get it to work the way I needed it to work. So, instead, I headed to the Central Ohio Transit Authority web page and poked around until I found the information I needed, and the next week I rolled into town on the bus. You learn many things riding public transportation. For one thing, you learn patience: waiting for a bus can be a very nerve racking experience, especially when you're uncertain whether you're waiting at the right spot. (That was day number one, when I learned the bus doesn't always take the route you think it will). You also learn an almost entrepreneurial persistence: How can I find the route that will get me home the fastest and the easiest? (For the first week of my job I think I took a different route coming home every night.) Additionally, riding the bus gives an unparalleled sense of independence for someone without his own car. These kind of self-improvements are nice, even gratifying, but they are not the most treasured aspects of riding the bus; at least, not for me. As I have already said, I live in a happy, healthy suburban home. Accordingly, you only see so much of the world. You stay at home with your family, you get in your car with your family and maybe a friend, you go out to a happy, healthy, suburban restaurant with all the other suburban families and friends, then you drive back to your home with your family. Sundays you can see some more happy families, and maybe begin to get a taste of pain in people's lives-- but ultimately, it is a church, so they're finding healing and victory, you hope. Riding the bus is completely other. Here there is every kind of person. On the bus, people are angry, people are scared, people are happy, some people are poor, nobody is rich, and everybody is just trying to get ahead, or at the very least to keep on with their lives. On the bus, people are uncomfortable, surrounded by strangers and maybe by a friend. But in all the ways that people are completely different, people are oddly all the same. Because we are all more or less uncomfortable, or uncomfortable with the people who aren't. Riding the bus has brought me to a sense of identification with all the other uncomfortable people. It has caused me to look pain and suffering and decay in the face and know I can't do anything about it. It's an odd feeling. It gives a weight of reality to my thinking, and in doing so also makes helping others seem so much more immediate. There are people hurting right in front of me. What will I do? What can I do for these people I do not even know? This is a challenge to which I do not know the answer for sure. So I study the Scriptures, pray for understanding, and continue to ride the bus. After all, the first step in being there for the hurting is being there, right? May I learn to love the hurting in my heart, through my words, and with my hands, sharing the blessings I have been given and the hope I have in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen. Daniel Virden is a sophomore Political Science and Environmental Science double major at Point Loma Nazarene University in San Diego, California. He is a native of Columbus, Ohio, where he lives with his family between semesters and tries his hardest to live in a practical manner all the environmental ideals he absorbs at school. |