A Sorry Sight

I'm not sure who designed the city I live in, but I'm pretty sure that when the town was first constructed, the idea of putting a railway track right through the middle of town seemed not only like a good idea, it was probably brilliant. Now there is nothing that causes me to drop some serious language more then when I am getting close to those tracks, and invariably, red lights flash, crossing guards come down, and I am left to ponder ridiculous things.

Usually those things revolve around things like me wondering if I worked really hard , could I still get drafted and become a professional hockey player (definitey not), or what stadium would I first visit if I went on a North American tour (Lambeau Field), or do I look more like my mom or my dad (dad).

But today, I sat behind a really ugly purple car (not Mark's Ubervan) that had all sorts of stuff on it like "Honk if Your Horny" (I wasn't, so didn't), "Eat a Beaver, Save a Tree" and "Real Golfers Use One Wood" (I slice to the left) and so on. And because of those images, I made certain judgments about the identity of the driver and his need to have sex! Now.

I wonder a lot about my own identity. I've actually thought a lot about this in regards to some reading I've been doing by Parker Palmer. He talks about the fact that we teach who we are. I think this is true. Not only do I teach who I am, I also parent who I am. How I parent, how I teach, how I be a spouse, how I define the phrase follower of Jesus, all come out of my own story. Obviously there are too many parts to that story, but the fact is that I have seen that the things that have become the most important to me in all those areas don't come out of the joys I've experience in my life, but out of the wounds.

I'm not sure if that makes sense. But it seems to me that the injustice I get real edgy about as a parent or teacher is related to the injustice I've experienced in my own life. The issues that get me on edge at our Gathering Place come out of previous issues in previous communities. And how do I take those wounds and not just say "Deal with It" or "Get Over It", but how do I use those wounds to not only help others seek reconciliation in their lives, but also to help me reconcile things in my own life.

It seems to me that as followers of Jesus, we need to be in the business of reconciliation. For the most part, I think that a lot of people have found their identities outside of Christ is not because they want to, but because those communities that promote Christ have not focused on reconciliation. Maybe as followers of Jesus, one of the things we need to be saying more to others who have been hurt, judged, and rejected is "I'm sorry. We're sorry." Maybe that's what my bumper sticker will say.