May 4 was our 16th week in our series on "The Church in the 21st Century".
Howard Lawrence joined us again, and walked us through some questions and examples. He shared this handout with us:
excerpt from "Love Your Neighbour for God's Sake", p. 100-102
Just imagine...
The house opposite is empty, until one day a hired van arrives and the new neighbour is moving in. He doesn't have much stuff, so it doesn't take long. No one takes much notice, though there are curtains twitching up and down the street as neighbours take a furtive peep at the latest stranger who dares invade their space. It's just a single guy, no evidence of a family. Probably divorced and running away from his responsibilities. Won't see much of him.
But that's not quite right. Turns out that he is quite the sociable type. First thing he does is to introduce himself. 'Hi. I'm new around here. Good to meet you. Have you lived here long? Nice neighbourhood.' Friendly fellow with a winning smile. Is that a hockey net in his garage? Perhaps he does have kids, after all, otherwise what would an adult want with a hockey net? But after school he hauls it out into his driveway and appears with his roller blades, a set of pads and a stick. Two or three of the neighbourhood kids join him. How does he know them? That's the Wallace twins, isn't it? He's asking for trouble! Must be the kind who mixes with the wrong people. Where did he get those cakes that the kids are devouring on the front lawn? Must have a wife hidden away somewhere!
There it is. The inevitable hot rod! Must be a single guy after all to be able to afford that. He’ll spend all his time in his garage and before we know it there will be a half a dozen cars in the driveway, all up on blocks with no wheels. Look! He has already gat a mate over there, tattoos, can of beer, leaning over the engine, grease up to the armpits. Isn't that Jim Wallace from up the road? Well, that confirms it. This new neighbour is trouble. There will be motorcycle gangs next.
So what’s the old lady doing in his car? Must be his mother. No, wait. That’s Myrtle Crowther from the tip on the corner. Must be the oldest inhabitant, for she was here long before any of the other houses were even built. Keeps herself to herself and hardly ever comes out. Her house is a disgrace! She hasn’t touched her garden in years! It’s just a tangle of brambles. And the house! What a ruin! Glass cracked and some windows boarded up altogether; paint peeling from the sills; moss all over the roof. It needs a bulldozer to clear it. Frankly, Myrtle’s house lowers the tone of the neighbourhood and certainly must affect property values. It shouldn’t be allowed. So what is What’s-his-name doing with her in his car?
Oh, so there is a family after all! Look at the three little children peeping out of the living-room window. And here comes the wife, in that rusty old Ford. Listen to that exhaust! Hey, that car is familiar. It belongs to Marg, the single mum three doors down. Tthose three kinds are not her brats, by any chance? Don’t tell me his is baby-sitting! Yes, baby-sitting and fixing her exhaust, by the looks of it. What next?
So how come the neighbourhood seems so much more alive recently? Must be ever since What’s-his-name moved in over the road. Everyone seems to know each other now. No more driving in and out with scarcely a nod. Must be something to do with that joint garage sale we held. That was a great opportunity to get rid of all our junk. Everyone put all their stuff in their driveway and the big ads that we placed in the local paper brought hundreds of eager buyers. Wasn’t that his idea? Must have been, for he was the one who collected the money to help clean up Myrtle’s place. And that wasn’t so bad, either. Half the neighbourhood got together one Saturday morning for a work party. Oh, what a huge fire! Thought the whole house was going to go up. But by the end of the weekend the garden was cleared and the first coat of paint was on the house, the windows were fixed and the inside was spring-cleaned. Even Myrtle looked scrubbed and smiling. What’s-his-name was everywhere.
And then there was the barbecue that we held in the cul-de-sac at the end. I don’t know where all the flags came from, but we carted down our own barbecues and took our own lawn chairs. Quite a party!
We have our own street hockey team now, you know – the pride of the neighbourhood! The kids are all keen and are challenging other neighbourhoods. The idea is spreading. And don’t think it’s just the kids. Some of the adults are just as bad. And who do you imaging is our team’s coach? Wrong! It’s Jim/ And who provides the refreshments? Marg. And who sits on the pavement cheering her old hear off? Well, Myrtle does – when it’s not too cold.
Yes, things have changed a lot since What’s-his-name moved in.
