Jesus on the Tracks

Who knows the possibilities and desperate needs that await us down this very road -- and whether we will have the presence of mind to notice them, or the character of heart to respond? Who knows what compelled us to turn in this direction in the first place? Some of course, would say random luck. Brian has a different thought.

The man was stuck. What might have begun as frustration, this interruption on his way between unknown points, had since turned into agitated fear. He was quite literally stuck -- his motorized wheelchair was stubbornly, tenaciously caught in the gaps between the railroad rails. Nothing he tried was making any progress. This elderly, anonymous man was held hostage by the pavement and the steel and the gaps in-between. He jerked his body back and forth, wrenching the chair as best he could, trying to lurch a release, but whatever held him would not let go. He was stuck.

Having arrived early enough in town to exhaust the shopping possibilities before the train was to board, Brian and Michelle were, by this time, killing time. Strangers to the community, they were simply driving through the neighborhoods, enjoying the scenery until the "call time" to pick up their tickets. By his own admission and Michelle's confirmation, Brian isn't ordinarily the observant type. This time, however, inexplicably, something -- a bit of movement, perhaps, or maybe the flash of emotion -- caught the corner of his eye. A man, it turned out, his wheelchair stuck in the railroad rails. Steering the car out of the way, he parked, jumped out without a word, ran back to the prisoner and muscled the wheelchair free and safely beyond the rails. Wishing the agitated man a better evening, Brian returned to his car, stepped inside and immediately heard the powerful whistle, and the thundering sound of the train whooshing by that he had no idea was coming. How long ago -- a minute perhaps -- had the man been trapped on those very same rails?

Hearing the story later that evening over dinner on board what surely must have been a different train, we named the obvious with appreciative awe: "You saved that man's life."

So, we wondered together, how did it happen that these two strangers in this town came to turn down that particular street, at that particular time, especially given the fact that they had arrived with other plans in mind? How did it happen that this desperate situation caught this otherwise unobservant eye? Coincidence? That isn't a very compelling explanation for Brian, or presumably for the man in the wheelchair who is even now, thanks to Brian, telling his own version of the story.

What might be plainer is the recognition that every street has its desperate and precarious moments, and the lingering question to consider -- will we have the presence of mind to notice them, or the character of heart to park the car, get out and respond?

"Then," in the story that Jesus was telling, "the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’" When did we see you caught on the tracks and freed you? "And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.'" (Matthew 25:37-40)

Just last Friday evening, for example, on the streets of Boone, in the wheelchair in which Jesus was riding.