Kathy, I’m Lost: Some Thoughts About Bus Trips

I like taking long bus trips and just looking out the window and reminiscing. This week I took a two-hour bus trip from Monterey to San Jose, which got me remembering other bus trips I’ve taken. I gave a sermon once about bus trips, comparing them to church; it’s a journey, the drivers change, you find companions on the way. Here’s part of it. The Disneyland story is my favorite memory.

When our kids were little we took them to the school bus early, 7:10 each morning, mouth of the canyon, some times cold, dark, for the ride into Carmel. We moved here in the summer and they hadn't met many other kids yet. New schools can be hard, cliques, who to eat lunch with. The first day we met other families at the bus stop, Owen and Norah met kids they had a lot in common with. Within just a few days they each had friends who have become life long friends, people they shared a lot with. Very quickly they had someone who would invite them to sit with them at lunch, and who would save them a seat on the ride home.

When we met the bus sometimes the kids were tired or sad, a bad day, or feeling sick. Norah told me once she just hated the other kids, hated her classes, hated her teachers, but at least she knew that on the bus on the way home she could sit with her friend Ariel, who liked her and would listen to her and usually had some good food to share.

I usually sit in the same seat on this bus, this church, creature of habit, and I like the comfort of knowing the folks around me. And there've been many times when I've had a bad week, and could list, like Norah, all my woes. You folks on the bus have held my hand, brought me food, called and prayed, sat up late with me as it felt like I was hurtling alone into the darkness. Thanks for being my mates on the bus, and saving me a seat.

Kathy I'm lost, I said, though I knew she was sleeping. A great American bus song, Simon and Garfunkel, “Looking for America.” Sometimes on a bus you want to be left alone, just look out the window. Counting the cars on the New Jersey turnpike, the song goes. Here in this church we can count those roses in the garden out the window. There's great comfort in that. I know a church is not a building, a church is the people and the journey. But a building helps. This building is beautiful and simple. I thank all the people who made and who make it that way.

Our family went to Disneyland when the kids were little and we stayed at a cheap motel which advertised a free shuttle bus to Disneyland. It turned out to be a very crummy dirty old bus, but it got us there and back. Until the last night, when we stayed until the park closed at midnight, and got the last shuttle, filled with other tired, cranky families. On a scary dark busy stretch of LA highway the bus broke down. The driver called his company for help and got no answer. This was long before cell phones. No one dared get off into the busy traffic.

After 15 minutes or so of worry and crying children and wonder what would happen next, another bus pulled up in front of us. A large, clean, modern, fancy bus. The driver got out, came over to ours and asked if we needed help. He had seen us on the road, and although his company said he should not stop, but go right back to headquarters, he could see we needed help. We were saved. We all carried sleeping children and all the stuff we had acquired and transferred to the new fancy, functioning bus. In minutes we were back at our motel, and the driver, an angeI I think, disappeared back into the dark night.

Sometimes on the road of life we get in trouble. And sometimes on the road of life we see trouble, and can stop and do something about it. It might require turning around, taking time and even breaking a rule or two. On our church bus here we are able to help lots of other people whom I could never help all by myself. Our bus must look like a big gleaming modern one to some of these people. But we stop and help people on the road.

Rosa ParksRosa ParksWe were reminded this week of a miraculous bus story in our nation's history. Rosa Parks died, the brave woman who refused to give up her seat in the front of the bus to a white person and sit where she was supposed to in the back. We don't have a back of the bus in this church. I hope. Rosa Parks will lie in state in our nation's capitol this week, an honor which she is the first woman ever in our history to receive. Women are hard workers in our church and in most. In much of church history they have been second-class citizens. Likewise most churches are sadly among the most segregated of our institutions. Our churches need to give everyone a seat, and work harder to make real God's love of all people.

Recently I was in Boston, on the T, their subway, on the way to my niece’s house for a visit. It was rush hour, and there was a night game at Fenway, and it was jammed. A guy with a Red Sox hat asked me if I knew which was the stop for a certain hospital. People often ask me for directions when I travel. I don't know why. Maybe since I have been a minister for 25 years, I look like I have some driving experience. I do usually have a good map with me.

I had one that night - I told him I wasn't from there, but I let's look at my map. We found the hospital on it. Are you going to the game I asked, pointing to his hat. No, I wish, he said, but my friend is sick, I'm going to see him in the hospital. Oh, I'm sorry. Where are you from, what brings you here, he asked. Here are some ideas for things to do in Boston. Boston people don't have a rep for being very friendly, but this guy was. Perhaps because he had a need, and was going to see a sick friend, and knew what it was like to be a little lost. The need and the map brought us together.

Enjoy the ride – you’re not alone!

Copyright © 2014 Deborah Streeter