by Donna M. Houston

Created on: July 15, 2008   Last Updated: July 16, 2008

"Signs of Faith: Religious Vanity Plates"

"7 tms70". That was the message on the license tag of a passing black SUV. I spotted it as I made my way home through a logistical labyrinth of en masse transit' one night recently. White-knuckling my way from point a to point b I tried to steer clear of the fearless drivers' weaving in and out of lanes at breakneck speed. You know the type. Throwing caution to the wind they make spur-of-the-moment maneuvers without employing the forewarning tactics second nature to the rest of us: reducing speed, use of the turn signal, or they slam on their brakes - trusting in ours. They cut us off and not too politely urge us on should we choose to obey the speed limit and traffic laws. It is enough to incite feelings or fantasies of road-rage in even the most peaceable of persons.

A glance in my rear view mirror reveals the red, contorted face and wildly gesturing hand of the driver behind me. Obviously he is attempting to communicate his displeasure with something to me. My being in front of him? The log-jam we are embroiled in? I feel my own temperature beginning to rise. Or maybe he is venting to the universe, not seeking my attention at all. As our world shrinks and the landscape becomes transformed by urban sprawl we've fewer open roads and it is inevitable that at least some of our fellow travelers see driving as a therapeutic means of channeling aggression.

"7 tms 70". I remembered a line from the New Testament, the Book of Mathew. In chapter 18 Peter asks Jesus just how many times we should forgive someone who has sinned against us, "7 times?" he asks. According to the King James Bible, "70 times 7" is Jesus' reply. The New American Bible for Catholics translates the passage as: "not 7 times but 77 times." In either case, scripture tells us to forgive and not keep count. The spied vanity plate seems to speak to this moment. It resonates with pertinence and with a prick of conscience my own near-anger is deflated.

Moving frenetically from one appointment to take care of another errand on my way home from work just in time to chauffer a child to that commitment, whew! The price of gas not withstanding a lot of us still end up spending an inordinate amount of precious time behind the wheel. Lose perspective and we court discontent. But it's hard to stop and smell the roses when exhaust fumes are wafting through the window. And just who bears the lions-share of these domestic duties can become a thorn in the side of familial

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>