Last night, Amy and I went over to our neighbor’s house across the street. After Mia was born, our neighbors delivered some gifts at our doorstep — two little outfits for the girls. It was really thoughtful and quite a surprise since we don’t know each other that well. Amy baked some cookies for them and the two of us went over to say thanks.
We ended up talking with them for about an hour and I think we might be making new friends. They are probably old enough to be our parents. They have four adult children and a lot of grandchildren. But they seem pretty active. The husband drives a corvette and the wife has more energy than most twenty year olds. She keeps the most incredible garden in our community, and I mean jaw-dropping incredible — two secret gardens and an ever evolving front yard. The four of us wound up connecting over parenting horror stories. We told them about our recent trip to the ER and Mia’s hypothyroid condition. With their four kids, they were at the ER all the time. It also turns out that this active grandmother also has a hypothyroid condition. She takes synthroid daily. Hypothyroidism is a different ball game when you’re an adult, but they were definitely sympathetic to Mia’s condition.
After we talked for awhile, the subject of our neighborhood came up and eventually the conversation turned to the folks that live directly next to us, another pastor.
Everyone on the block pretty much knows that our other neighbor is a pastor. Counting me, that’s two ministers on the same street. And everyone on the block, pretty much agrees that his house is an eyesore. It looks terrible. He’s got two foot weeds, overgrown grass and shrubs, half the trees are dying, and for a time his sprinklers were set on shuffle. They went off at all hours of the day, multiple times, wasting tons of water down the gutter.
What doesn’t help the situation is that this pastor doesn’t actually live in his home. This house is a second home. He rolls into town every so often with a small caravan of luxury cars and an RV. And he’s not the most friendly guy either. I’ve tried to strike up conversations but he’s never really seemed interested. I’ve talked more with his assistants. One day his brand new Hummer2 ran out of batteries — his car alarm went off for hours and nobody turned it off — his assistants come over and asked me for a jump. I was more than happy to help, but it did feel strange that he didn’t come over himself, nor really talk to me in person. Apparently he’s a busy guy and he runs a megachurch in another city. He’s got some kind of protective barrier of assistants around him.
When our new neighbor friends started talking about the house next door and how it looked like “crap,” I found myself at a loss for how to respond to their question. “He’s a minister, too, isn’t he?”
Dang! Yes he is. Do I try and defend the guy. He’s a fellow pastor. Or, do I start distancing myself from him and throw in a couple of negative remarks? I’ve been giving this kind of response to a lot of the so-called “Christianity” that I see and can’t stand. And yes, my pastor neighbor has now fallen into that camp in my book. But I’m finding that along with my negative remarks, I’m becoming more negative too. I don’t want that. Does the world really need another cynic pointing out the flaws and problems of the American church?
While I’m at a loss for a response, Amy picks up the conversation. She makes a few remarks about our neighbors and just moves on to more interesting conversation. Brilliant.
I’m learning something. I’m a bit tired of making excuses for American “Christianity.” I’m also starting to grow tired of my own negativity. I’m not saying that I’m going to completely stop my critical remarks, but it’s time to move on to more interesting conversation. Jesus has given me so much more life than that.
