A few feet away from the doors of my parish church, I was attempting to park my car in a tight space. Suddenly I heard shouts from behind the vehicle, followed by angry beatings of fists on my car’s trunk. Clearly, some guy was irate at me.

When I got out of the car and looked back, I saw the fellow still flushed with anger. He accused me of being a blind driver who did not know what he was doing.

In response to my plea of not guilty of assaulting his van, he proceeded to point to the front fender and claimed that I had hit it. My brief examination of the site showed no damage but he continued to rant about my having done some.

Not anxious to get into a shouting match or, worse, to get shot, I quickly walked away. Not without reflection on the incident, however.

It struck me as an irony that this fellow’s verbal assault on me took place just outside a Christian church where he seemed to be waiting for a family member or friend.

And it seemed clear that my antagonist loved his van a whole lot more than he loved me.

What would Jesus think?