Rights & Responsibilities

I hate to pass judgment, especially in light of the topic I wish to address—namely the lack of kindness that permeates the world—but bus drivers seem to be a rather unhappy bunch. Within a block and a half of my apartment, I have no less than five bus routes available to me for my daily collegiate commute. With the exception of one particularly chipper gentleman, every bus driver I have encountered strikes me as bitter and angry, some more than others as my experience today can attest. On my way home from school, the bus stopped for a young woman who, as it turned out, was unsure of which bus she should be taking. She asked the bus driver if he went down a particular street or even the street adjacent. His response was a grim and short, “no.” After a slight pause, the woman asked if he knew which routes would be of assistance to her. The driver seemed reluctant to divulge any information, but again answered shortly, “Five.” “Aren’t there a few that go down those streets?” she begged. “Eleven,” he said bluntly, and as he began to pull away, “Thirteen.” I myself knew of at least one other, and I assume he knew them as well.

Moments later we were making a left turn at a four-way stop. The intersection is a somewhat confusing one, with several crosswalks obscuring the clarity of where one is supposed to stop. Turning left, a car opposite us began to turn right, admittedly cutting us off. While this can be annoying, and I am sure it happens several times a day to a bus driver, it would not surprise me if it had been an honest mistake. Regardless, our driver felt it necessary to, I would think quite intentionally, almost run over the petite automobile, thereby teaching the driver a “lesson.”

To begin with, I can’t imagine spending everyday focused purely on the inanity of all those around me. I realize some jobs are much more conducive to this kind of attitude, but surely our own choices and determinations can help tremendously. Unfortunately, it all comes down to selfishness, the key destructive force in our society today (or so I believe). Watch two minutes of television and the pervasiveness of selfishness will be made evident. Commercial after commercial plays on the notion. A few years ago, Twix’s slogan was “Two for Me, None For You.” And wasn’t it McDonald’s’ new product, Chicken Selects, that prompted the slogan, “Hey, get your own!”? Even situational comedies often utilize selfishness or self-centeredness as a catalyst for laughter—someone trying to get away with something, someone putting someone else down, someone being annoyed at someone else’s idiocy and the fact of having to deal with it. Bumper stickers, t-shirts, etc. all relish in the notion of self-aggrandizement and/or the deprecation of those who fall outside our own standards or circle of life.

At the root of this problem is the notion of rights and responsibilities. Everyone is determined to make sure any available and self-applicable rights are met in full. The bus driver had the right of way when turning left, and he was determined that anyone infringing on this right would never forget it! On the flip side, he perhaps did not see it as his responsibility to answer the woman’s question about what bus would take her where. He doesn’t have to be an information booth, and he was determined that anyone trying to impose this responsibility on him would never forget it! Such is the way so many of us live our life. While it may not be obvious, I think it is a lack of charity in the world. We are not willing to give an inch. Are we eager to forgive and forget those that, even briefly, prohibit us from partaking of our rights in full force? Not a chance. Such people are jerks! Do we assume the best of them, that perhaps they really didn’t mean to get in the way? No. This would only elevate them from jerk to moron. “Think, you idiot!” we would still say. Likewise, should we ever do what is not absolutely required of us? Well, what in the world for? If you didn’t do something for me, why should I do something for you? In what sense would that—would you—be worth my time? I live my own life with my own feelings, so yours are inconsequential unless they bear on mine. If they don’t bear on mine, here’s a quarter, call someone who cares.

I didn’t plan on this discussion getting religious, but I had an epiphany several months ago that I'd like to share. Christ’s love for us was something I always found relatively intangible. Granted, we’re not supposed to think we can understand it fully, but I still knew I was supposed to be in awe of the sacrifice he gave for me and how much love that must require. Reflecting on my own selfish nature, it struck me. I do have a tendency, when driving, to want to “teach lessons” to those “jerks” and “morons” that surround me. If someone wants to pass me and I consider it pointless for him to do so (e.g., all he can do is end up in front of me and then go my speed anyway), I don’t want to let him pass. He doesn’t deserve it. He should know better. The reasons are always valid, and the reasons are always many. If someone is a jerk, you want them to know it. You want them to feel bad or regretful for what they’ve done. They should. It’s only proper. If they never realize it, they’ll never care, and, in a sense, they will have been a jerk for absolutely free. Everyone else suffers, while he reaps the benefits and never has to care about what he did. Well, guess what? Jesus loves us so much that, even though we’re all being complete jerks, he suffered so that we wouldn’t have to. As I write this, I know my typed words cannot do for you what this thought did for me, but it was the closest I’ve come to feeling overwhelmed by his love for me. While I want to condemn everyone for what they’ve done and make sure they don’t get away with anything, Jesus is begging us to come to him—to come to comfort and love—rather than have us know the pain we ourselves are creating. The pain we should and are justified to have to face. That same jerk we loathe for getting off scot-free, Jesus wants to experience his pain for him, simply so he won’t have to. Desiring that someone experience pain and suffering for what they have done—and I know this is something we all do—however minimal we may hope it, or to what degree, it stands in strict opposition to Christ’s purpose. It is quite literally anti-charity. And yet we can scarce imagine not desiring the pain and suffering of those who wrong us in some way. It is sad.

Matthew 25:40 says, “…Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” How else may we interpret this? Let's try these: Inasmuch as ye desire the suffering of one of the least of these my brethren, ye desire me to suffer. Inasmuch as ye revile at the sight of one of the least of these my brethren, ye revile at the sight of me. Inasmuch as your heart swells with hate and ill will toward one of the least of these my brethren, your heart swells with hate and ill will toward me.

But also remember this: “For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses” (Matt. 6:14-15).