c. 2007 Religion News Service
(UNDATED) For now, I will ignore the urban attack bicyclists who pedal aggressively along pedestrian-only pathways in Central Park, mindless of the havoc they cause. Some people just never get outside themselves.
Instead, let’s see the delights of a fall day in the park.
In a large patch between Sheep Meadow and the Mall, for example, I see dogs running freely, racing in circles and barking happily, while their owners chat in the center.
This morning time set aside for unleashed dogs draws all manner of pets to an hour of freedom, from designer dogs to mutts, and allows them _ if only for a brief time _ to do what dogs were born to do.
Farther along, on roadways mostly closed to automobiles, runners in high-tech costumes prepare for the New York City Marathon. Looking lean to the point of gaunt, these athletes run in national teams, speaking a rainbow of languages, only a few of them truly competitive, but all of them, to judge by their laughter, thrilled to be here.
Although my distance-running days are over, I feel a spring in my step as I walk through a park teeming with exuberance. I put behind me the cyclist who wove his way at top speed along a busy sidewalk, while his son sat helplessly behind him in a toddler seat, an accident just inches from happening.
I don’t suppose we ever know, until it happens, how close we are to the surprise of delight or disaster.
Turn a corner, and there is a quartet of German runners stopping to admire a park vista, a picture of freedom and health. Turn another corner, and there is a bullying driver charging at an intersection, believing the technicality of a green light permits him to mow down pedestrians.
Try as we might to assert control _ humankind’s relentless quest to be God _ our lives are largely shaped by chance. Our educations prepare us to respond to opportunity, not to guarantee success. Our relationships usually arise from chance encounters. The events that mark our lives tend to be unplanned moments, from storms to stress to joy.
Religion likes to talk of purpose, plan and predestination. But, in fact, the most we can offer is a language for recognizing grace. No amount of bullying and dogmatizing can control God or channel God’s determination to redeem those exiled by their own frailty. No leash laws prevent the higher call of freedom.
In the end, I feel sorry for those who cannot get outside themselves, who cannot see the havoc that their selfishness causes. Not just rude bicyclists, but parents who don’t experience their children, workplace colleagues who grasp and grind, refusing to listen or to collaborate, and predators who think the law’s silence on deceitful practices gives them license to hurt others.
I think of church partisans who believe that their doctrinal cause is so critical to God’s providence that they may do anything _ anything _ to pursue it. Haven’t they ever attended a funeral and seen the unplanned outpouring of grief and compassion that a free people give when God’s love fills their hearts? Can they truly believe that God’s heart is cold to certain people whom partisans deem unworthy?
We serve better when we help each other to see the delights, to deal with the disasters, and to walk boldly, exuberantly along pathways dominated by chance.
(Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant and Episcopal priest based in New York. He is the author of “Just Wondering, Jesus,” and the founder of the Church Wellness Project, http://www.churchwellness.com. His Web site is http://www.morningwalkmedia.com.)
KRE/PH END EHRICH600 words
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