The baby begins to cry. Most of the passengers cast perturbed looks at the young mother. She tries to dodge the eye daggers by leaning in close to the infant's face. But the child grows exponentially more upset. Nothing seems to work. The woman's steely resolve begins to melt as the tears form in her eyes.
Please. We're almost there. Hold on just a little longer.
A middle-aged woman gets up out of her seat and steps over to the mother. She puts a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. She smiles gently before speaking.
Here, sweetheart, let me help you with your things so you can feed your baby.
Gratitude radiates from the young mother's face. Her Good Samaritan lifts the bags off her arms and shoulders. The mother finds her way down to the bench. Her hand bracing beneath her almost as if she expects the seat to be some sort of mirage. She drapes a cover over her child and begins to nurse. The screaming stops almost immediately and a breath of relief escapes the mother's mouth.
When the infant has finished, the mother gets up just as the train pulls into the station. She looks at the woman who has helped her.
Thank you so much. This is my stop.
She reaches for the bags. But the other woman shakes her head vigorously.
This is my stop too. I'll carry it for you a bit more.
The mother smiles even as she holds back tears. The two woman exit the car. People pour in. People pour out. The doors close. Then you see the tile. The blur. The darkness.
I believe that most of us experience an internal tug-of-war between the past and the future. In The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis’ titular demon supervisor advises his underling Wormwood that one of best ways to keep a human from doing good is to keep them ping-ponging between those two times that are not the present. One keeps trying to recapture or reach towards moments that are mist. It can keep a person from doing something.
The quote above resonates with me because it harnesses the past and unfinished future into a catalyst that animates our present. We remember the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus because it means something today and compels us to presently work for the Good that is already here, but also not yet. We remember the hope and pain of the past to do something that help us take some sort of step each and every day. We realize that the hope which exists within the gospel story is not yet fully realized. Many people are still being left behind and forgotten. The realization, as the theologian Metz states, puts pressure and questions on the present.