One of the most significant threats to my personal spiritual health and growth occurs every time I get behind the wheel of my car. While I’m usually a patient person and seek to be kind, loving, and gracious at all times, much of that good intent goes out the proverbial window once I start the car and pull out onto the street. My impatience with other drivers comes out in criticism and condemnation. And my desire to hurt those who refuse to use their turn signals—well—as I said, none of it is helpful for my spiritual well-being. You may be smiling or laughing at me, but honestly, I share this with shame and embarrassment.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says several times, “You have heard… but I tell you…” He reframed much of the understanding of Old Testament law as well as oral tradition. In today’s passage, Jesus equates anger, angry speech, and name-calling with murder. Ouch! Jesus says that showing my impatience and anger or uttering a few choice words toward other drivers is just like murdering them and puts me in “danger of the fire of hell.” I am humbled to realize that my attitudes and the thoughts of my heart are just as important to Jesus as my actions. And it calls me not only to confess my sin but also to ask the Holy Spirit for an extra measure of grace and guidance while I drive.
In verse 48, Jesus sums up his teaching on murder, adultery, oaths, eye-for-an-eye attitudes, and loving your enemies with a call to all of us: “Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.” In driving and in all other areas of my life, I know that I can’t be perfect, can’t even come close. And that is the point. I must rely on and depend on Him to do in me what I’m incapable of doing on my own. I can’t in my own strength or ability be perfect. But as Jesus forgives my sin and dwells in me, I slowly become a transformed, changed man. He gives me His nature as a free gift and invites me to learn how to wear it, how to live in it. His perfection becomes mine as I let go of me and invite Jesus to have authority—Lordship—of all of my life. And that includes my driving.
Now, before I start the car, I try to pray, “I can’t do this Jesus. I need You. Please come do in me what I can’t do on my own.” Then I pull out onto the road where even my driving can be transformed to the glory of God.