This last weekend I had helped offer a Catholic Engaged Encounter weekend at the Spiritual Life Center in Wichita.  After the retreat concluded on Sunday afternoon, I stayed in town that night to visit family and friends. On Monday morning, after recovering somewhat from the arduous schedule, I went to work out at the Northwest YMCA while I was in Wichita.  It wasn't very early in the morning, but still early enough, and I was still waking up.  As I pulled into the expansive parking lot of the relatively new exercise facility, I spotted a parking spot that was just being vacated by a silver Tempo.  What luck!  Without even pausing, I glided right into the free spot.

It was then that I heard the horn honking behind me and saw a blue, mid-size SUV passing in my rear-view mirror.  "Wonder what that's all about?" I asked myself. As I got out of my car and started to cross the remainder of parking lot to get to the entrance on a rather chilly morning, I received my answer.  "How rude can you be??" a woman with tousled morning hair and a gray sweat suit asked me loudly.  "I'm sorry?" I asked surprised.  "What did you think I was doing, waiting there in my car?  You shot right past me into that spot I was waiting for!  How rude can you be??"

I realized immediately that I had, indeed, taken her spot and that I hadn't even been paying attention as I entered the parking lot in the first place.  I felt terribly immediately, and I apologized as profusely as I could, but the disgruntled woman would have nothing of it.  Indeed, she hadn't even stopped to accuse me, but had kept on going toward the Y, and our exchange was being carried out in loud voices over the blacktop pavement.  Still feeling badly, I offered to move my car for her, and yet she only huffed out loud as if I was making a sarcastic comment in response.  Several other YMCA patrons were looking at us as they overheard the repartee of our lively discussion.  I felt rather self-conscious and the thought crossed my mind: "Gosh, what if she knew I was a Catholic Priest?"

The helpless feeling I experienced was only made worse by the fact that I really had made an honest mistake.  If I merited any guilt in the matter it was that I hadn't been alert enough to notice this woman waiting in her vehicle to take the spot that I all too deftly took for myself.  I felt helpless that she didn't stop to listen to an explanation that I could offer to her to make things clear; helpless that this woman was starting her day thinking that there was yet another jerk in the world ruining her morning workout.  I wanted to do anything I could to demonstrate that I really wasn't a jerk, that my actions really weren't meant to be an offense against her, and that I made a silly mistake because I don't tend to be the most attentive driver at times.

But, she stormed off, and what could I do?

I went in to the Y and I started my workout.  As I began striding on the elliptical machine, I had to accept the facts of the situation and also realize that if I could not receive forgiveness from her, that I could receive forgiveness from two other people: God and myself.  It wasn't too tough to know that God would forgive me.  However, it took me longer to forgive myself.  But, I was able to do so, remembering that, even though I am at times an inattentive driver, that at times--even as a priest--I am prone to thoughtlessness of others around me, I was still a good person and trying to be better--dare I say even holier?--every day.

I would also use this experience, as I have used other experiences of my oh-so-humanness, to be one who would offer forgiveness to those who offended me: to that driver who takes my spot in a parking lot, or who drives under the speed limit in the passing lane, or who wanders over the dividing line while texting someone, or doesn't go on green because they're preoccupied with a phone conversation on thier cell phone (sound familiar?)  How can I get upset with others doing the very same thing that I've done myself?  And yet, it can be so easy to do at times. But it is these little penances of patience that we can offer to atone for our own sins, to develop a loving patience for others, and to realize--ultimately--that many of our complaints, gripes and criticisms are about things that don't really matter that much.  "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us."  Even in a parking lot, one can encounter redeeming grace!