Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Securing Precious Cargo

Headlines can be dreadful. The incomprensible massacre at Virginia Tech. Another suicide bombing in Iraq. Darfur. And, remember the guy who kidnapped young boys in Missouri? How quickly we move from one grim story to another. It’s a sad, broken world.

And those are just the stories that make the news. All of us know the sorrow that can come from facing a personal tragedy or loss—an illness, an accident, a crisis born in circumstances beyond our control—and how that loss can change us forever.

Grief can raise questions for which we do not have easy answers. The “why” questions usually stump us. It has always been so. Take Job, for instance. Lots of questions; not too many answers.

The Book of Job, of course, suggests that there are spiritual realities behind the troubles we face. The text gives us a glimpse of the tension that supernaturally exists between Heaven and Hell, good and evil, God and Satan. Job’s woes—and ours, I imagine—are the design of the devil himself. Satan means adversary, after all.

Still, there are some things we can do to stay out of harm’s way. In a world where disgruntled madmen open fire on random innocents, why would we foolishly expose ourselves to unnecessary risks and dangers? Why would anyone drink and then drive? Or take the chance of contracting a lifethreatening sexually transmitted disease? Or risk life and limb for some kind of extreme sport, just “for the fun of it?” I don’t get it.

Which brings me to another headline. Remember the rude remarks radio bad boy Don Imus made about the Rutgers’ women’s basketball team? And the ensuing firestorm? And the meeting between Imus and the team in the New Jersey’s Governor’s Mansion to “patch things up?” And the traffic accident in which the Governor of New Jersey, Jon Corzine, was critically injured on the way to host the meeting in his home?

You didn’t hear about the Governor’s accident? Governor Corzine (age 60, a former United States Senator and CEO at Goldman Sachs) was riding in the front seat of his SUV, driven by a New Jersey State Trooper. The Governor was in a hurry to get to the Imus-Rutgers meeting, apparently, because the SUV was traveling at 91 mph (in a 65 mph zone), with emergency lights flashing. Some guy in a red pick-up tried to move out of the way, over-compensated and clipped the grassy shoulder of the highway, spun into another lane, forcing another car into the Governor’s, causing the SUV to run off the road.

The State Trooper driving the Governor walked away from the accident scene; the Governor was critically injured, breaking eleven ribs, leg bones, a vertebrae, and more; the Governor remains on a ventilator, sedated, in the hospital, six days after the accident. The Trooper was wearing a seat belt; Corzine was not.

If your car is stopped suddenly in an accident, your body, if not belted, will continue in motion at the speed the car was traveling for another second or two, thrown around the car. Often, an unbelted passenger is thrown out of the car. Seventy-four percent of those thrown out of a car die as a result of their injuries. This astonishing statistic does not reflect the number who survive, but are paralyzed.

Sixty-three percent of those killed in car accidents were not wearing seat belts. If 90% of Americans would wear their seat belts, there would be 132,000 fewer injuries every year—and 5,500 fewer deaths. Injuries sustained as a result of refusing to buckle up cost a staggering $8.8 billion annually; every health and auto premium we pay costs more because somebody doesn’t buckle up.

So why not buckle up? It wrinkles your clothes? It’s not so comfortable? It’s just a bother? What difference does it make? Ask the Governor of New Jersey. No one knows when he’ll be able to return to work—or even get off the ventilator.

As a pastor, I am exposed to many painful moments in the lives of dear folks that I love. Sometimes, those painful moments are wholly preventable. The “if only I had …” regrets can be overpowering.

In a world where the devil works so much mischief, why give him an opportunity to do harm? Put on your seat belt. Make sure everyone else in your car does, too. Especially your children. It’s one simple way you can protect your body, which is, after all, as the Scripture says, “the temple of the Holy Spirit.” Buckle up, North. For Heaven’s sake. And, your own.

Don’t just pray for the Lord’s protection—give Him a hand. And, oh yeah, stop smoking, too. Refusing to buckle up makes as much sense as choosing to light up. Both choices rob life.

Okay, enough of my “dad-talk.” I just couldn’t resist, though—because I was reading the paper and I love ya.