My husband and I walk together as often as we can. Our favorite route winds us through River Park between Peterson and Argyle and back. It’s a great route not only because it’s uninterrupted and I don’t have to deal with waiting for any stop lights, which I have never been good at, but also because we get a good glimpse of the people with whom we share our neighborhood.
We are constantly delighted by the fact that Orthodox Jewish children and Palestinian children share the same swings and that Polish parents and African parents walk the same path, and that Latino soccer players and Romanian soccer players use the same fields. While there may be many places in the world where this is not yet happening, it is happening here at the edges of our campus and for that we rejoice.
A few weeks ago as my husband and I were walking through the park we came across a boy who was about eight years old. He had his kickstand down and had parked his bike in the middle of the path. As we approached we noticed that he had walked back from his bike and was kicking the remains of a broken bottle to the side of the path.
An older gentlemen, who was walking past joined him in his work by kicking a few pieces to the side and his joining prompted us to engage as well. I said to the little boy, “We’ll help you too,” and Jeff and I picked up the few remaining pieces. The boy smiled and said, “Nobody likes their tire to go flat.”
His statement brought a huge grin to my face. He hadn’t said, “I didn’t want my tire to go flat.“I’m just picking up after other people”, or “I’m just doing my duty.” That’s not what he said. He said, “Nobody likes their tire to go flat.
He gets it. This eight year old has mastered one of the key components of community, “to love your neighbor as yourself" or said in his words, “Nobody likes their tire to go flat.” He had made it through the glass without a flat tire. He had come out unscathed and could have just said, “Whew! I escaped that one.” He could have said “I don’t have the time,” or “it’s not my responsibility,” or even, “Why bother when everyone else is peddling past.” But no, he recognized that there were other people who were going to follow him down this path and just as he doesn’t want his tire to go flat, “nobody likes their tire to go flat.”
During that exchange on the bike path I was reminded once again that building community is not that complicated. Its only requirements are that we are willing to stop our forward motion, to look out for someone other than ourselves and to willingly put down our kickstands and walk back along the path to tend to other people’s broken pieces. It’s not complicated but it will often interrupt own ride in the park.
And so the question is not “How do we create community?” but rather “Are we willing to have our own rides interrupted?” Are we willing to stop the forward motion of our agendas to look after those coming down the path? Will we put in the time to pick up broken pieces that are remnants of other people’s garbage? Will we come together to create a safe place for others to travel after us? Will we let the building of community interrupt our ride in the park? Or said more practically, will we hold open doors when we are running late ourselves? Will we take time to learn the names of those around us? Will we put down the project to connect with the person?
This year as our campus asks the question “What is community?” I pray that we might be willing to put in the time to be the answer, so that together we can say to those around us, “This is community, right here on the corner of Foster and Kedzie.” Watch us and you will find evidence that we are willing to let our own ride be interrupted for the sake of others who are coming down the path.
