Jesus In the Back Seat
I do some part-time driving for a local company that supplies transportation services to folks who for one reason or another can’t do their own driving.
It’s a great job and I’ve met some really wonderful people over the four years I’ve been doing it. I like to think I’ve learned something about myself from them - no mean feat when you’re as old as I am - and I’ve learned a great deal about the necessity of always being grateful for what I (or you, or anybody) has.
One young man I have been driving fairly regularly of late is severely autistic. I can’t use his real name so I’ll refer to him as Eddie. My job is to bring Eddie from his program in one town to his home about 30 miles distant. Given the normal traffic, it’s about a 50 minute run.
I always greet Eddie when I pick him up, although I’m never sure to what degree he recognizes me (the covid mask I have to wear doesn’t help). He doesn’t seem able to speak - we’re not talking “Rain Man” here - but he makes sounds, never words, at least in my hearing. My first couple trips with him were slightly unnerving because I could never be sure when Eddie would decide to do his “verbalizing”. Concentrating on getting him home safely on a busy suburban interstate was enough to keep me busy, and since normally he was an excellent passenger, I never seemed ready for his louder outbursts.
I never got angry with him or reprimanded him, since I realized that he basically had no control over what was going on and certainly wasn’t doing anything consciously to annoy me.
After a few trips I thought maybe he’d like some music, so I put on the local classical station for the trip home. I wish I could say it had some kind of impact on Eddie - I know it helped calm me down - but again, I couldn’t be sure. If I were a betting man I’d have to say probably not, but as far as I was concerned it was worth a try.
Over time I think we established a pretty good relationship (although that may not be the exact word). I learned what assistance he needed - for example, seatbelts were occasionally an issue until I trained myself to check his before we got underway. And when we arrived at his caretaker’s house, he would now and then forget a hat or his bag or some other item on getting out of the vehicle. Now I always check.
I hope you’re saying to yourself “Nice little story, but where does Jesus come in?” Good question.
One day I was dropping Eddie off at his house after a routine trip. On this occasion, however, when he got out (I was holding the door for him), he gave me a big smile and brought his face very close to mine. Was it some kind of breakthrough? Did that mean he finally recognized me and trusted me? In the absence of speech - which I’m sure we all take for granted whether we want to or not - it was hard to tell.
I thought about it as I was heading away to pick up my next passenger. And then it occurred to me - Eddie is as perfect innocent and sinless as Jesus was. For reasons we probably will never know, God has made Eddie what he is, and where most people would see a severely broken man-child, I like to think that in God’s sight there’s a marvellous creature who can never offend Him or hurt another human being.
Eddie is, to the world’s way of looking at things, “the least of my brothers”. But there was something in that smile that brought me to the realization that I may be the least of his brothers. When Eddie’s time on Earth ends, I haven’t the slightest doubt that he’ll be on the “fast track” to Heaven (if there is such a thing). All his earthly imperfections will be things of the past, and those who did their best to help Eddie cope with a world he could never understand will now be beneficiaries of his new perfection as he intercedes before God’s throne - as no doubt he will - for his family and caretakers.
Here’s the quote from Matthew’s gospel. “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.” Growing up as Catholic kids, we were always taught by the good sisters that you could never tell when Jesus would be coming into your life with this expectation. This was the essence of Christian love (although putting it that way to a third-grader probably wouldn’t have been a good idea).
Putting it (not blasphemously, I hope) in 2021 terms, you could say that my friend Eddie is a “Jesus avatar”. When he’s in the back seat, or in class at his program, or at home with his caretakers, that’s Jesus there too.
That’s the story of my encounter with the Divine. Thanks for taking the time to read it.
= = =