Walking to Mass

I'm blessed in that I live within a mile of my home parish, though I have to admit that quite often laziness wins out and I drive anyway. I almost did that yesterday, but I awoke to find that my relatives had borrowed our car! So I had to hoof it to Mass. While I was very tempted to be a grumble gus about it, the thought that this is the only way the vast majority of Catholics throughout the world can get to Mass -- and they often walk farther than I would ever dream -- quelched that temptation real quick.

The fact that it turned out to be a glorious spring day also played a big part in reversing my mood. Indeed, Lord, "be praised for all Your tenderness by these works of your hands [...] and be glad that You have made blue for the sky and the color green that fills these fields with praise!"

As I strolled along, I started thinking why walking is so much better than driving. Hint: It's not just because it's better for our physical health and Creation, though those are very good reasons. It connects us with our community. When I'm driving, the streets that I travel may as well just be lines on a map for all I really notice them. When I'm walking, I see every little flower and songbird, every bit of grit and trash. I sense that this neighborhood is where human lives are played out, where souls are lost and won in the mundane day-to-day business of life.

I see the humanity of the folks in my neighborhood. Those belligerant kids who refuse to stop their basketball game so I can drive by? They're out there mowing the grass and pulling weeds for their old Granny. I can get a glimpse of them as complete human beings, members of families, with good and bad sides, just like anyone else. That random guy I see driving the rusty blue pick-up to work every morning? I pass his house, and he says "hi" and asks how my day is going, we talk about how beautiful the weather is, and wish each other well. I hear women shouting to each other across the street as they tend their respective gardens. There's a real sense of community that you just don't get when you're zipping through in an automobile. And that's a darn shame, because how can you love your neighbors -- even if it's just through a simple "Hey!" and a smile -- or see Christ in them, if you never even see them?