The easternmost commuter artery in Chicago is known as Lake Shore Drive. It serves upwards of 160,000 commuters per day, and it’s not the sort of street that features a bike lane (except on Bike the Drive Day when bicycles take over). If you were to look down on Lake Shore Drive over the course of a year, you’d likely notice . . .

A car driving north up the southbound lane during middle of the night. (He was tired and took the wrong ramp.)

It only takes one accident to shut down the Drive and clog every side street for miles.

The occasional tractor-trailer that wanders on and can’t navigate the tight curves, fast-pace flow, or exits with inadequate clearance. It’s like wandering into another country.

The unannounced motorcycle races involving an endless stream of bikes, all of them loud, and flooding every lane for miles. There’s just nothing you can do but watch.

Police cars often hide just over the rise, poised and ready to write tickets — except they’re often ‘‘first warnings” if you’ve not been pulled over before. That’s what mercy looks like.

There are annual events as well. Cinco de Mayo features a celebratory stream of colorful cars sporting large flags and loud noises. Hanukkah also delivers a noteworthy parade of SUVs, vans, pickup trucks, and motorhomes decked out with giant candelabra and festive music.

During the early days of COVID there was no one on the Drive except Amazon and UPS trucks delivering needed supplies.

The average commuting window begins early and packs the Drive for several hours. That’s when you really feel compassion for those fixing flat tires — and great admiration for those who pull over to help them. There is far more compassion and good Samaritanism in the city than anyone realizes. You see it any time someone needs help.

Perhaps the most overlooked facet of the Drive is the number of lumbering CTA buses packed full of commuters and weaving through traffic with more grace and ease than you’d believe possible. Those drivers are amazing, which is why so many passengers thank the driver as they exit the bus.

If you think about it, the life of The Drive is much like a local church. You have those who wander in the exit door, slightly lost and bone weary. There are those with the mercy gifting who quickly help anyone in need. There are the adrenaline-aged members whose zeal and emotions stir the pot. There are the crises or scandals that slow the pace and provoke reflection. There are the rituals and ceremonies that remind us of who we are and to Whom we belong. And through it all, there are the ”bus drivers” who faithfully teach, disciple, mentor, or befriend members and guests, helping us all commute from who we’ve been to who we’re becoming. It takes everyone.