According to a recent poll London cabbies are the best in the world.
Certainly, when you get a good taxi driver, its a godsend.
Once I was saved by a taxi driver. The sad thing is I dont even remember his face. It is just the event that has stuck in my mind. It was late afternoon in a hot and dusty Lagos, and I had to get to the airport from my hotel. I got into the taxi and negotiated what I thought to be a cheap fare. From the outset it was clear that I could miss my flight. The traffic was more or less at a standstill. Juggernaut lorries bearing down on everything and everyone in their path, passengers crammed into dirty buses like hens in battery cages, car horns beeping, radios throbbing out loud polyrhythmic beats, people yelling and laughing, only the hawkers were moving as they worked their predatory way among the stationary vehicles.
Ill pay you more if you find a shortcut, I said. Suddenly we veered off down what to me was a blind alley because I had not noticed it before. I did not recognize any of the places we passed. I was more than a little tense. We entered one of those shanty villages that seem to populate Lagos. How could this be the right direction? We slowed down to turn a corner where a group of five men were hovering. They turned to look at us, and one of them pointed to me in the back of car. They began to chase us. They picked up stones and debris and threw them at the taxi, hurling racist abuse as they went. I am pretty sure they meant to rob me and who knows what violence would have ensued?
No way out!
But what about my driver? Could I trust him? He could easily stop to protect himself. He could give me up to them. Or he could join them. Dont worry. All I could see were his eyes reflected in the rear view mirror. Ill get you out of this. He drove as fast as he could along the uneven road but the gang was catching up on us. I panicked more when I saw in front of us the mother of all potholes. I had seen potholes of all shapes and sizes in my African travels. This was huge and sprawling. I could not see how deep it was. I thought, this is it, theres no way out now. My driver, however, went straight on, and drove over its precipice-like edge and slid down into its belly, and then accelerated up over the other side. I looked around to see the men break their run at the rim of the pothole, and one of them tumbled, falling inside. The others swore and shook their fists at us. We got to the airport with just a few moments to spare. All the Naira (Nigerian currency) I had left, which wasnt much in terms of western currency, I gave to the driver as a tip with much gratitude. This man, whose face I cant remember and whom I did not trust, had saved my life. On our way there had been a large poster on a church fence: it read, Have you received your miracle today?
Sometimes I wonder about how God intervenes in our lives. As a Christian I interpret events in the light of my faith. A non-believer might say that I just had a lucky escape. Maybe. But in my mind there are so many of them, so many times when things could have been worse – much worse; so many unusual and unexpected moments of salvation. Youd think I would have learnt to anticipate them by now, but I havent. I feel an affinity with Mary, the mother of Jesus. Remember when, after Gabriel had announced to her about how her child would save the world, she pondered those things in her heart. I ponder Gods saving moments in my heart. Perhaps you do the same.
Being human, we tend to think more of how God works to help us. Jesus said that he was among us as one who serves, and he continues to serve us to this day. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. We value his acts of service, and it is right that we should. The gospel, however, is not just about us and about how God saves us both eternally and daily. It is also about how Jesus calls us to participate in his salvation of everyone. That calling above all involves our unabashed witnessing to what Jesus has done for us. We preach Jesus and his resurrection. We are his witnesses to the ends of the earth (Acts 1:8 NIV UK). In addition, we are part of Gods everyday compassion towards others, of his mercies, which, are new every morning (Lamentations 3:23). With Gods guidance we seek ways to aid and assist others practically and verbally, thus producing in us and perhaps in them the Spirits fruits. Jesus practices his saving acts towards others through us. His ministry of service continues through us.
An unexpected answer
I dont know what you think about the state of the world, but arent we in a mess? Nothing seems right. No one is righteous, no, not one. The global population is outstripping its ability to feed itself. Political tension is high. Scandals, wars and injustice are the usual headlines. The money we earn may as well go through holes in our wallets and purses, as Haggai described (1:6). With reference to my taxi story, it is as if we are all heading into the mother of all potholes! Headlong into a ditch with no idea of how to get out! Its interesting that Jesus did not prevent me from getting into the crisis I found myself in. He did not cause the taxi to fly off like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang into the air. He did not transport me to heaven in a whirlwind as he did with Elijah. Rather he supplied someone like you and me, an unexpected answer to help me when I needed it most.
We all share in the suffering of the world. Just as others around us go through difficult times, so do we. Most of us have a story to tell about family tragedy or illness or making ends meet. Together we participate in lifes ups and downs. But do we participate in Christs salvation of others? Thats the question I ask of myself on a regular basis. Sometimes I dont answer the question. Its too irritating, this Christianity, isnt it? Id rather be helped than help. Id rather be rescued than rescue. Id rather be the object than the verb. Id rather receive than give. I did not for one minute think about how to save the taxi driver from what could happen to him. After all, the gang could have assaulted him and taken his car. Of course, the driver no doubt thought of himself. But he also thought of me. He thought to comfort and save me.
The ironic thing is that, when I got into the taxi, the driver had asked me what I did for a living. Im a Christian pastor, I told him, and I train other pastors in how to minister to others. Oh, he said, Im a born-again Christian too. Sure, I thought to myself, probably just a cultural Christian who does not really practice his faith. How often we judge others. Or, should I say, how often we misjudge others?
God spared me not just to live to be saved another day, but also to save another day. More time to participate in the saving acts of Jesus.
Have you given someone his or her miracle today?