A couple of weeks ago, in California, an event took place that many believe was a major turning point in the history of American civilization. Gray Davis, the Governor of California, announced that a newly opened section of freeway near Los Angeles would be the state's last.

No more freeways. The endless ribbon of highway has come to an end.

There are over 15,000 miles of freeway in California. In a nation where freedom is exercised by every adult's right to drive to work alone, the freeway- -the "free" "way"- -has been the symbol of the American way of life.

Freedom! Get your motor running. Get out on the highway. Be free! But now Governor Davis is promoting mass transportation. Take the train. Take the bus. To my ears it sounds downright un-American!

Kevin Starr, a professor at U.C.L.A., had this reaction to the end of freeways: "An era is over. The governor is challenging us to a new level of maturity. It's not about me, me, me. It now has to be about we, we, we." A new level of maturity.

The issue before us goes deeper than the choice between the commuter train and the private automobile. This has to do with all of the personal sacrifices that are evidence of our maturing from self-centeredness to a concern for others. The question at the heart of the matter is how do we make the leap from "I" to "we?"

How do we move from "I" to "we," from acting in isolation to acting as a member of a community? Is it "every man for himself" or is there some way that human beings can decide to pull together for the greater good of the community?

In the privacy of my car, I can leave home when I want, I can turn up my radio as loud as I want, I can light up a cigar, I can talk loudly on my cell phone, I can yell at the guy who cuts me off. In the privacy of my car, I rule! Even though I'm stuck in traffic that inches along at five miles an hour, I rule. No way I'm going to take a train!

What is there that would motivate me to make the leap from "I" to "we?"

The answer is that only God can motivate me to make the leap from "I" to "we." It happened to others in the past, and it can happen to you and to me. We can be changed by God.

The Gospels were written at least thirty years after the events had taken place. Jesus had already been crucified. The Church had already been dispersed throughout the Roman world. The Roman persecutions of Christians had been going on for a long time.

The writers of the Gospels already knew, from their own experience, the cost of following Christ. They knew, first-hand, about personal sacrifice. And so their recollections of the sayings of Jesus were colored by their own personal experience.

And this is what they remembered of Christ's own words: Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me, cannot be my disciple.

They remembered that saying not only because Jesus said it, but because they saw it happening all around them. Christians so loved God that they were able to make great personal sacrifices, including the sacrifice of their own lives. They saw it happening, and it happened to them. They were able to let go of the "I, I, I" in order to embrace something far greater.

Unless you're a masochist, you don't make a sacrifice because it hurts. You sacrifice your own immediate gratification because you believe in a greater good.

They knew what they were getting into when they decided to follow Jesus. They knew the cost of discipleship. And yet they joined a community of faith that followed Jesus willingly and joyfully.

What happened to them? What gave them the courage to risk everything, to make the leap from "I" to "we?" The answer is that God happened to them. Only something greater than ourselves can motivate us to leave self-centeredness behind. Only God can move us from "I" to "we."

There's something about human nature that makes us put ourselves at the center of our own private universe. On the first day of nursery school, children have to be taught to share the toys. And for the rest of our lives, we have to be taught over and over again to share. Because human nature causes us to say, "I've got min, you get yours."

Dostoevsky told this Russian folk tale about a very wicked woman:

She died and did not leave a single good deed behind. The devil caught her and plunged her into the lake of fire. So her guardian angel stood and wondered what good deed of hers he could remember to tell to God; "she once pulled up an onion in her garden and gave it to a beggar woman," said the angel. And God answered: "You take that onion then, hold it out to her in the lake, and let her take hold and be pulled out. And if you can pull her out of the lake, let her come to Paradise, but if the onion breaks, then let the woman stay where she is." The angel ran to the woman and held out the onion to her. "Come," said he, "catch hold and I'll pull you out." And he began cautiously pulling her out. He had just pulled her right out when the other sinners in the lake, seeing how she was being drawn out, began catching hold of her so as to be pulled out with her. But she was a very wicked woman and she began kicking them. "I'm to be pulled out, not you. It's my onion, not yours." As soon as she said that, the onion broke. And the woman fell into the lake and she is burning there to this day. So the angel wept and went away. I'm told that the angels of God still weep whenever someone says, "It's my onion, not yours."

Last month the census bureau reported that New Jersey has surpassed Connecticut as the richest state in the union. But it's still close. One state is the richest per capita and the other is the richest per household. I forget which, but it's still close.

What New Jersey and Connecticut have in common is that we are both largely suburban. The big house surrounded by the big lawn.....the American dream.

What we also have in common is that both New Jersey and Connecticut contain some of the poorest cities in America: Newark, Paterson, Camden, Hartford, Bridgeport, New Haven. The two richest states contain some of the greatest poverty.

As long as we continue to live in private isolation from one another, and as long as we continue to say "It's my onion, get your own onion," this gap will remain. Children will continue to grow up without hope, without opportunity, in islands of poverty surrounded by great wealth. And the angels of God will continue to weep.

Only God can change this situation. And we will never change unless we let God change us. Do you hear a voice inside you saying that there's something missing here? Do you hear an inner voice saying that we may need to give up something- -that we may need to give up some of our time, some of our assumptions, some of our steady habits, in order to work for the greater good? If you hear that voice you may be hearing the voice of God.

There is no easy road to freedom. The "freeway," if it means a highway unencumbered by obstacles- -the "freeway" is a misnomer. In real life the freeway is often clogged with traffic. The human spirit will never be free until we are willing to bear one another's burdens. The human spirit will never be free until we let God move us from "I" to "we."

I'd like to leave you with the words of this familiar hymn:

"Take up your cross,
let not its weight fill your weak spirit with alarm;
His strength shall bear your spirit up,
and brace your heart, and nerve your arm.
Take up your cross and follow Christ,
nor think till death to lay it down;
for only those who bear the cross
may hope to wear the glorious crown."

Amen.