Theology of the Handicapped Space

We all know why it is there. We all know who is supposed to use it. We all know who isn't. You'd think the handicapped parking space would be a simple matter. If you are handicapped enough to get a license plate or a card that hangs from your mirror (who qualifies is a whole 'nother discussion), you can park in the space. No plate, no card, no parking. Easy, right?

I sit here 3 or 4 mornings a week and I can't help but notice the handicapped spot - and who parks there. It's a small parking lot and it is often full, but not always. There are 5 different ways this spot is normally used:

1. The lot wasn't full, a middle aged woman in a Mercedes SUV pulled in from the parkway and swung directly into the spot. There were other spots open. She left her car running (in fact, the turn signal was still blinking), ran in to get her coffee and ran out again. "I can park here if it's fast."?

2. The lot was full, an elderly woman with a noticeable limp and the appropriate handicapped card in her windshield pulled into the spot, walked in to get her coffee and left.

3. The lot was completely full, any one of a number of cars (I've seen Rovers, Passats, Minis and Priuses pull this one) creeps through the lot and finally pulls into the handicapped spot. The driver then either sheepishly slinks or confidently marches (there is no in between) inside to get their coffee. a) "I guess I can park here if there isn't any other option"? b) "I can park here because they need my business and they should have a bigger lot"?

4. The lot was busy, a well-used and well-stickered early 90's model Corolla pulls up to the front door. A woman gets out and walks in while the man driving the car backs halfway into the handicapped spot and half into the "no parking" area, narrowly missing the A-frame sign placed specifically to prevent him from parking directly in front of the store. "I can park here because you won't let me park where I want"?

5. The lot is pretty full, a beautiful car (subjectively or objectively) pulls into not just the handicapped spot, but also half of the spot next to it and proudly makes their way inside, turning halfway to arm the car alarm and admire their ride. "I couldn't park anywhere else because parking lots are dangerous places for cars like mine"?

There are plenty of places in life that should be a simple matter. Right and wrong, black and white, yes and no, do or don't. Yet, we can still find ways to muddy the waters, to create shades of gray. We do this by looking only at ourselves and considering only our needs instead of thinking first about the needs of others. "I can do it if it is right for me right now"?

Update 12/10 - When it's snowing the spot is nothing short of a free-for-all. "Extreme circumstances remove all guilt"?

Relative Conscience

Last night we watched the premiere of "Community" in it, the main character says, "I discovered at a very early age that if I talk long enough I can make anything right or wrong. So, either I'm god or truth is relative. In either case, booyah."

Another character replies, "Interesting, its just the average person has a much harder time saying 'booyah' to moral relativism."

(You can watch it here at about the 8:40 mark.)

While the scene was simply meant to be clever banter to push the plot forward and give us a small glimpse into the personalities of the characters, it really touches on much more.

We live in a world where millions of people decide right or wrong only by what they can defend or reason or rationalize. If they can explain why what they did was right for them, it was right. If their actions weren't as bad as an alternative, it was right. If they can do it without their conscience getting in the way, it was right. If they can do it and then smooth things over with their conscience, it was right. All of these things focus only on the individual, not those around them or anyone else. What's right for me is right. Is this right?

The other character's response is simply wrong. We live in a world where the average person never considers the implications of moral relativism enough to consider even whether or not it deserves a "booyah". People don't consider what kind of moral system supports their actions or what type of system they should conform their actions to. Instead, they simply act on what feels right for them (see above).

The truth is, our conscience is a flimsy guide, one that can be bent and twisted by our wants and desires. Over time, we can train our conscience to ignore grave evils. We don't even have to do so the training. Our consciences are constantly being trained by the things we see around us, the people we interact with and the experiences we go through. It is our consciences that are relative, not morality.

"My conscience is clear, but that does not make me innocent." - 1 Cor 4:4