In Praise of Bad Drivers
Sunrise tinges the chill day’s cirrus indigo. Exhaust spins from cars speeding in morning rush hour. I’m on my way somewhere to do something and I must be on time. The traffic light blinks green and I begin turning right onto the interstate ramp, but–suddenly–punch the brake. An oncoming car careens left through a red light and cuts me off. If I had insisted on having the right of way, we would have collided. Though I want to fire a fist of contempt at the driver, I hear Margery Kempe whispering in my ear.
Though the church has never formally recognized Margery’s sainthood, this 14th-century English mystic embodies all the holy strangeness of the New Testament Greek word haigos: different, set apart. An illiterate, failed brewer, Margery’s eccentric expressions of love for God alienated her even from many of her Christian contemporaries. Known for hysterical fits of tears in sacred places, Margery tended to disrupt everyone around her, including church services, pilgrimages, priests, and even her own husband, whom she convinced to keep a chaste marriage bed. Some feared her odd revelations and pious outbursts would lead people astray–and tried her, unsuccessfully, for heresy multiple times.
Over 650 years after her birth, Margery continues to beautifully upset her readers through her spiritual autobiography The Book of Margery Kempe. Though some of her spiritual practices remain questionable (like her insistence on wearing white), her unusual ardour for God unsettles and evokes the believer’s calling to something beyond mere humanhood: holiness. This story in particular comes to mind when I encounter drivers like the one who nearly t-boned my car…
Read the rest at Dappled Things here.
This series is inspired by my new book In Praise of Houseflies: Meditations on the Gifts in Everyday Quandaries (Calla Press) now available for purchase. Click hereto join my e-letter for more quiet reflections, book updates, and a few of my favorite things!
