You'd probably pull over, jump out, reach back in and wipe the car clean of your prints, then walk away slowly so as not to draw attention to the fact that you are driving a police car that doesn't belong to you.
But imagine that the car did belong to you. You're wearing the uniform. The authorities expect you to be driving the car. When you flip the lights and sirens on, people show you respect. The car is yours.
Now imagine that you hit traffic on the Turnpike. Bumper to bumper. Parking lot in the roadway. Without hope of quick progress. An accident creating an inconvenience.
What would you do?
I would flip on my lights and drive on the shoulder until I passed the blockage.
But this morning, I watched a police officer do something different. He sat in traffic with us. He didn't drive up on the shoulder or make that magic U-turn that only cops are supposed to make. He sat with us.
I had a very distinct feeling this morning that I was catching a glimpse of Jesus. Though he had the rights to drive up on the shoulder, he sat in traffic with us. The Incarnation of God the Son is, in a way, God sitting in the slow lane, refusing to flash his lights and turn on his siren. Sitting with us.
And how I struggle to do likewise.