I've owned four houses in three states, and although all were different, they all shared a common theme, they had fences. Which is much different from where I grew up, as no one had a fence unless they had a pool, and there were no built in pools in our neighborhood, and only Joey Coleman had a fence around his above ground. And the lack of fences made it easy to cut through yards for shortcuts, only using streets when riding our bikes. We didn't ride motorcycles yet, so no one took the long way home. But we did have fences, mostly for decoration, as they were split rail fences, and wouldn't keep anything in, and even less out. Maybe four feet high, with twin rails between them, they were perfect for sitting on and eating an Italian ice in summer, sitting on at night and talking with girls as we got older, building snow forts around when it snowed, or walking on.
And we used to love to walk on them, precariously balanced all of 36" above the ground, daring to walk the length of the one at my friends Bruce and Barry's house. And if you fell off, you started over at the beginning, not where you fell, and in a few weeks we were able to walk the whole fence, then started on the next length, that separated them from Frank, of Frank is bald fame. An unhappy man, who we seemed to make more unhappy. And for some reason the fun gene was missing from him, along with the one for hair, as he was bald, and anti-fence walking. What if his son saw us, next thing you know he'd want to have fun-not on my watch buddy!
But our real nemesis was a red haired woman from across Hetfield and down a block, Mrs. Prendergast, or just Prendergast to us. She would come over and tell us to not walk on the fence, we should be "fixing it, not destroying it," in her words. We were polite, at least to her face-good thing her walls or fence didn't have ears. Barry did a perfect imitation of her-I can still hear the voice and see the face. But we continued to walk those fences, and gained balance, and a sense of achievement when we finally made it to the end. And despite the encouragement, and/or encouragement of our friends, no one broke anything, or was maimed, or even fell into Frank's yard-making it a completely safe and fun event. And mostly Prendergast free. And they only thing that seemed to deter us was when someone got a new refrigerator or other appliance, "Hey Scottie's parents got a new stove,"and we were off to play in the empty box left on their front yard. Maybe it was left there to show off to the neighbors, but to us it was a fort, a rocket ship, or an underground hideout away from the government-even then we knew Big Brother was out to get us-and its name was Prendergast. But even she never invaded our cardboard security.
And sadly Prendergasts don't go away as you get older, seems there is always one to remind you not to have fun. Or exactly how to follow God for that matter. Churches have them, yes they have brought their lack of sense of enjoyment into religion to, along with a list of thou shalt nots-and then Jesus comes along to rescue you from the law and all it doesn't have to offer-and replaces it with grace and mercy.
Imagine if you would if when a group of hippies asked Pastor Chuck years ago to lead worship, if he had said no. Or balked when they showed up with drums and guitars! Where would Christian praise and worship music be if churches still paid their organist, instead of letting the spirit flow through musicians, just like in Psalm 150? Where would the ministry of Calvary Chapel and so many other churches be if they followed the rule, and not the spirit? Would Miles be our pastor if someone told him he was to young, or hadn't gone to seminary? What if someone told Herb Shreve to stick to his pulpit, bikes and bikers are dirty and need to clean up their act before they can attend their church? What, no CMA! Explain to all the bikers saved and ministered to about the law-they will show you the spirit-in action, it's called love.
What if a Prendergast told Fred Z. you're to short to ride, and besides you have red hair, or used to? Explain to the BFC members and those at Biker Church what laws they have broken in serving God? And I could go on and on with friends like Josh, Dave, Father Al-just stay with Catholics, leave the non-Catholics to their own kind, forget unity in the spirit, and even Pastor Mark-you're from Jersey, nothing good comes out of there. But due to a relationship with Jesus Christ, and following the spirit, their lives have meaning, and a joy not found in happiness. The common denominator is Jesus.
There is an old saying that says good fences make good neighbors. They also make good evangelists, pastors, worship leaders, and ministers. Follow the vision that God has given you, and let the spirit guide you. And God will surpass all your expectations. And if a Prendergast crosses your path, give them what God has given you-love in the form of grace and mercy.
And if you happen to get a new refrigerator, call me-and don't throw away the box. There are a whole lot of kids in my peer group just looking for new fort-with one rule-you gotta be over 50! After all, we can't let the kids have all the fun!
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com