Wednesday, July 23, 2014

A Train Ride

The guy was dressed head to toe in Cubs gear, having obviously been to support his favorite team at the game. He was ready to talk to anyone. He joked with the teenager who had a teddy bear in an Arizona Diamondbacks t-shirt. "You put a cub in that?"

A stop or two later, another man got on the train. This guy's clothes were shabbier; I'd bet he was a far more regular rider. He was wearing an Arizona Cardinals t-shirt. The Cubs guy had to jump on that, arguing that baseball was the better sport, not lowly football. Cardinals guy wasn't biting. Cubs guy then started an argument with him about whether or not there are actually cardinals in Arizona. It was a calculated move, so calculated that one of the people standing nearby said, "What you're trying to start a fight about is stupid. Stop it." Yes, random man on the train, you are correct.

Cubs guy did stop, for a while, but tried to make conversation with a couple other folks. The train was crowded; there were plenty of other possibilities. When Cardinals guy got off the train, Cubs guy tried to talk to me. "You taking the number…?" I don't remember what bus he asked about. I said no and refused to make eye contact, again. I'd figured out early on that this guy was a pretty off. Still, it was a pretty calm train ride overall. Cardinals guy did crowd my space, but my bubble is so large that it doesn't take much.

As in many places in the US, public transit sucks where I live. Out of either conviction or guilt, I take the bus and the train whenever it's actually somewhat convenient. That mostly means trips to the airport or downtown Phoenix. Getting anywhere else is prohibitively complicated and time-consuming. Taking the bus to work would take at least an hour; the drive is under five miles and takes under ten minutes if I miss all the lights.

I'm not going to lie, weird stuff happens on public transit, especially the buses. All the in-person arrests I've seen have been on public transit, though I've yet to see anyone arrested in Phoenix. Sometimes, people make out for extended periods of time. There's always a smelly guy or two. The conversations are often colorful; let's say they're not for the modest. I often think of the kids who are overhearing these conversations, too. I was twice their age before I knew the word they just heard 5 times in under a minute.

Still, I take the bus and the train and wish I could do so more regularly. The world there is different than the world I live in. It's a class difference, especially on the bus. I get that. I know how far into the next town I am based on who's getting on the bus. The divide is visible between a community that's struggling and one that's doing well. I also have the privilege of choosing public transportation when it's convenient for me, not being limited to it.

Public transit reminds me, though, of how different my life is from Jesus' life. It's so rare that I'm in a place with people who need social service agencies unless I'm helping at the social service agency. I'd wager the same is true for most of the people in my congregation. I don't pass beggars on the street; I rarely walk down a street. I'm far away from anyone crying out for help. I rarely pass anyone asking for food. I don't know where the free clinics are and have only a vague idea of where an office of the Department of Economic Security is located.

In short, I participate in a society that has segregated classes, sometimes with frightening intentionality. Things like public transit are reserved for people who can't afford anything else. Serving people who are poor is in well-controlled environments. Relationships with people who are poor are hard to find. It's only in those minutes on a train or a bus that I realize that most of the people on the bus are not the people I encounter in my everyday life. They're literally my neighbors; we get off at the same stop. But I never see them at the grocery store or the gas station. They disappear into places I don't know about.

I can't shake the reality that "Love your neighbor" is really hard if you've never met your neighbor. I can't shake the idea that maybe our poor neighbors wouldn't have it so rough if we did know each other. I can't shake the feeling that a whole herd of the sheep Jesus told us to tend and feed are nowhere to be found. If we spent more time on the buses, we just might notice the neighbors who are missing from our lives.

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