Blessed are the Peace Makers

It was a glorious morning. The sky was a deep azure blue of an autumn morning, not a cloud in sight. The colors of the changing leaves were ablaze from the light of the rising sun. The four-lane city street was unusually sparse for early morning traffic when I came upon this slow-moving, red sports car.

Up ahead, the two lanes of the street merged to go underneath a train trestle. I could have gunned it and tried to pass the red sports car, but I decided not to. I was in no particular hurry. I was soaking up the morning, and anticipating its potential for the day.

I tolerantly followed this slow-moving, red sports car from a safe distance to the next traffic light. We both waited patiently. When the light changed, the red sports car took off like a bat-out-of-hell. I continued on my merry way.

At the next traffic light, I turned right onto another four-lane street and there was that same slow-moving, red sports car. I needed to make a right turn in about two miles, but this guy was driving just too slow for my taste. There was plenty of time and distance to pass him and later make my turn without committing the Great American Sin—causing someone to slow down. I decided to change lanes and pass him. As I passed the red car, he speeded up. As I accelerated more, so did he. He stayed nearly even with me, but lagging a little behind, just enough to remain in my blind spot, just enough to prevent me from even trying to change lanes in front of him. Before I knew it, we were both fast approaching 55 in a 40 mph zone.

Now I thought, “This guy is messing with me. Okay, don’t push it. Just back off and get behind him so that you could make your turn in a minute or so.” I slowed down a bit. But so did the red car.

“What the heck?” I cursed. I braked suddenly to lower my speed to about 35 mph. So did the red sports car!

“Now what? I’m going to miss my turn if this guy doesn’t get out of my way.”

Up ahead, I noticed a third slow-moving car in his lane. My lane was clear. “Ah-hah! I got him now. He’ll have to slow down for the other car.” I began to speed up. So did the red car.

A moment or two later, the driver of the red car also noticed the third, slow-moving car. He began to speed up more. And so did I.

As we approached the third car, the red car slowly began to edge out in front of me. He was not going to slow down. Here I am, right in his way of safely changing lanes to avoid the third car. He still was not slowing down.

Heart pounding, I eased up just a bit on the gas pedal. It wasn’t worth it. The red car continued to accelerate. I slowed down a little bit more. At the last possible moment, the red car cut over in front of me, squeezing between the third car and mine, missing us both by inches. Definitely a close call.

Immediately after passing the third car, the red car jerked back into the right lane and braked hard. The lights of the approaching school zone had just begun flashing. Now, I had missed my turn and I was in a school zone going too fast.

I slowed down, but not enough for the school zone. Luckily there were no children around yet. Finally, I could get in the right lane and wait for my next possible right turn.

With the red car behind me now, it was payback time. I slowed down to a crawl. The red car rode my rear bumper. He was so close that I could not see his headlights in my rearview mirror. If he wanted to drive slowly before, he sure was going to now. This guy was going to get some of his own medicine for making me miss my turn.

At the end of the school zone, I leisurely made a right turn into a neighborhood. The red sports car continued down the main street. I doubled back to my originally intended route.

The after-affects of the adrenaline rush, heart pounding, anger, frustration, and stupidity, slowly subsided during the mile or so it took to finish my drive to work. The beautiful morning was now tainted with anxiety.

As I got out of my car, I gazed upon a majestic, old maple tree. Its yellow leaves were ablaze in the light of the autumn morning sun. The deep, rich brown of its trunk contrasted with the leaves and the green grass. The azure blue sky seemed more brilliant than ever. I took a deep breath and tried to reenter that state of grace I was in before the incident with red sports car. But I could not get there.

It had been such a peaceful morning. Then it occurred to me. I had missed my opportunity. I had missed my chance to be a peace maker. I had a choice to defuse the situation, but did not. I attempted to try to get out of it at first, but the driver of that red car would not let me be. I could have done more. I should have tried harder. I should have done something different to avoid the escalating tension.

I also had compounded my sin by seeking revenge on the other driver. I didn’t turn the other cheek. I didn’t let it go. I held onto my rage and demanded my pound of flesh. I blew it. I knew better, but I let myself get dragged into the emotions of the incident.

Instead of going straight into work, I walked across the street to a church and sat down in the back pew. I prayed for thanksgiving that there was not an accident and that no one was hurt. I prayed for forgiveness of my stupidity and aggression, and for forgiveness of the other driver. We are supposed to love our enemies. I just hope that the driver of the red sports car had a good day despite the morning drive.

Neither one of us was a peace maker that morning.

This piece was published in the Sooner Catholic, Dec. 15, 2002, Vol. 29, No. 24.