Bein' all neighbor-like

The result of our recent move has put us within the boundaries of a changing neighborhood. A local church is fronting an initiative called “The Nehemiah Project” that includes affordable housing and cleaning up the neighborhood both aesthetically and spiritually. Though I think we are the only white people for quite a few miles, I actually delight in God’s providence for us to be in this area, though we are not part of that local church—I am sure He is going to do something great.

I mentioned before about the party that took place next door: the loud music, the debauchery and language being broadcast without shame into the neighborhood. I was outside doing some gardening last night when I suddenly heard an eruption of profanity and abusive speech from two bickering females (I just can’t call them “ladies”) two houses down—yes, two houses down. About once a week they erupt and I shoo the children inside . . .

I never have been able to tell what their problem is, but all the guys do is stand around and drink, never talk, while these two girls spew verbal filth at each other. Out of everything their mouths could possibly say, sadly, the only words I can actually understand is the profanity. I've never heard people talk in wingdings like that before.

Anyway, I was outside, tending my garden and was about to go inside when suddenly I heard this lovely voice from the area of profane women, “Hey, Neighbor!” I turn around and there is this young girl, smiling and waving, calling out, “How are you today!” I wasn’t quite sure she was talking to me . . . but there she was, just smiling, waving and greeting me! Often when I see people outside, I smile, wave and greet them. This is the first time I have actually been greeted back, unprompted.

But she could not fool me, because as soon as I was out of sight, Yosemite Sam’s little sister jumped right back into her verbal maledictions. Her friends (?) could not fool me either, because I live right within earshot. When she turned on the charm, I was hesitant for her to approach . . . "would she knife me with her tongue?" I asked myself.

This whole thing breaks my heart because she is just a young girl and cusses like a sailor. And there are more like her within earshot. Someone has convinced her that her language is strengthened by poor vocabulary and grammar. No, the more she opens her mouth, the more I hear her admit how God sees her, as dying in sin. The day will come though, and very soon I pray, when she and her friends will hear the gospel.

Soon, the garden will be ready for another harvest, and I will use that harvest to bring the gospel to them. Pray for a full harvest! I met Andre from down the street already . . . he is going to plant melons in a field near his house. I gave him some pumpkin seeds if he wanted to try.

The thing is . . . I am a happily married white guy. My neighbors greet each other with abuse in their speech and most don’t know what marriage is, much less happiness . . . or contentment. Prejudice is great on their side because of who I am. Prejudice is not the ground on which to plant a garden of friendship, and relationship. Prejudice will blind people from the gospel. I’ve heard it so much already when we lived in New Mexico. “Jesus is the white-man’s god.” The attitude is no different in places right here.

You know what gets me? When I am sharing Christ with people and they jump right to the “hypocrites in the church.” I am amazed how so many people from so many walks of life can say exactly the same thing. You know what gets me more? The reason why so many people can say the same thing is because, for the most part, what they observe about the church is actually true. The Church is full of hypocrites. And this is nothing new. Consider Paul’s words to the Ephesians:

“Therefore I, the prisoner of the Lord, implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” (Eph 4:1-3).

I am waiting for the Macedonian call to go to my neighbors and point them toward peace, peace with God, with each other. I will not go until I have clearance. There will be no peace in the ‘hood without the gospel. If I am not living like one who is at peace with God and my Christian brethren, there will be no peace next door. If I give them something to cuss about, I better not give them a reason to cuss me or my behavior. I don’t want to be persecuted for my piddly excuses.

Wanna help win the neighbors?

Rescue the perishing, care for the dying,
snatch them in pity from sin and the grave;
weep o’er the erring one, lift up the fallen,
tell them of Jesus, the mighty to save.

Down in the human heart, crushed by the tempter,
feelings lie buried that grace can restore;
touched by a loving heart, wakened by kindness,
chords that are broken will vibrate once more.

Rescue the perishing, duty demands it;
strength for thy labor the Lord will provide;
back to the narrow way patiently win them;
tell the poor wand’rer a Savior has died.

Rescue the perishing, care for the dying; Jesus is merciful, Jesus will save.

(Crosby and Doan)