Nestled in the center of Scotch Plains, where I
grew up, is a small, one square mile town of Fanwood. Once known for its
abundance of millionaires per square mile, it was a town of 300 year old homes,
a 150 year old train station, and a busy, but small downtown. A place where as
a kid we went to shop. In one square block was the hardware store where we
bought the nails for our forts, the pharmacy owned by Terry’s dad, with a fleet
of VW’s, how we wanted one to pull up in our driveway, Hand Lumber where my dad
bought all his building supplies to finish the upstairs, and an ESSO station
where BH bought his first bike, a used CL 77 for $50. The steeple from the
Presbyterian church is still there, where Bruce’s dad preached, and the dentist
office where Nicky’s girl friend worked, and where he tested the NOX waiting to
pick her up. A vibrant downtown always bustling with people, from getting gas
at Henry’s father’s gas station and getting the latest gossip, to the post
office where many of my friends from high school went to work after graduation.
But always the focal point of the downtown was The Corner Store on the corner of
South Ave. and Martine Avenue. The place where many of us tried our skills at
stealing, under the watchful eye of Dave, puffing away on his huge Corona, the
owner. Where girlie magazines were left out in the open for us, and the smoky
counter in the aback was always occupied with greasers. Later it moved onto
Martine and was renamed The Corner Store in the Middle of the Block, but had
lost a lot of its charm along with its longer name. Dave was gone, the air was
cleaner, and so were the magazines and greasers. That was the Fanwood I
remembered, and expected as I came over the viaduct a few weeks
ago....
Only to find progress, or its perverted
definition on display. All the old buildings were torn down, and the entire
city block was being converted into four story apartment houses, expensive rich
yuppie housing, with a Colonial façade. Even the condemned ground where Dean
Oil used to be, apartments. No more Scotchwood Pharmacy, no ESSO station, and
no Corner Store, from either location. The latest inhabitants had voted and
wanted a non-descript downtown, and they got it. With all the glass face
businesses alike except for signage. Even the train station has been updated,
and not one landmark to give directions from or to. History had been put to
rest, and now was beginning anew, I wonder how many of the kids growing up will
return years later and get sentimental about the non-descript downtown? The
place where we bought nails and lumber, or bought nickel candy bars? Will the
historical train station be remembered with the new façade, and how many will
have memories of their dads rushing across the street from the new high rises to
grab the train to the City? And who will pass on the local gossip now that
Henry’s dad no longer pumps gas there anymore? I wonder about Fanwood, and
could it happen to me?
Among the many things that makes the gospel
unique is that God inspired it. And no other books are necessary, it has it
all, wholly from a Holy God. Written from a shepherd’s perspective of one who
loves and cars for his flock, it has remained true to God for thousands of
years. Like Jesus, who is the Word, they are the same yesterday, today, and
forever. You never have to wonder if what you are doing is right or wrong today
and may be different tomorrow, God never changes. He wants us to change to be
like him. Yet men have taken the gospel into their own hands, and changed it
for their own selfish means. Pastors pass on sin, on the holy spirit, and have
taken on socially good causes, neglecting the eternal ones. Even scripture is
twisted and studied, looking for the one word to OK their sin. Like Fanwood, a
new façade is being placed on the Bible, and turning Jesus into something he
isn’t. Or was never meant to be. A recent program highlighted these items, and
it is sad to see how subtle the devil is and how immature too many Christians
are. These pastors got it somewhere and passed it on, and so many trust the man
in the pulpit rather than the man on the cross. Read the following twelve
things and see what I mean. For like Fanwood, it could happen to
you....
1) Keep them busy
with non essentials. 2) Tempt them to
overspend and go into debt. 3) Make them work
long hours to maintain empty life styles.
4) Discourage them
from spending family time together, for when their homes disintegrate there is
no refuge from work. 5) Over stimulate
their minds with television and computers, so they can’t hear God speaking to
them. 6) Fill their
coffee tables and nightstands with newspapers and magazines so they have no time
to read the Bible.
7) Flood their
mailboxes with sweepstakes promotions and get rich quick schemes to keep them
chasing material things. 8) Put glamour
models on TV and on magazine covers to
keep them focused on outward appearances.
That way they will be dissatisfied with themselves and dissatisfied with
their mates. 9) Make sure
couples are too exhausted for physical intimacy so they will be tempted to look
elsewhere.
10) Make Santa and
the easter bunny bigger than Jesus to divert them from remembering the real
meaning of the holiday. 11) Involve them in
good causes so they won’t have time for eternal ones.
12) Make them
self satisfied. Keep them busy working
in their own strength so they’ll never know the joy of God’s power working
through them.
Either your life is all about Jesus or
all about yourself. In a year and time of testing to see who we say Jesus is,
can you afford to be popular and trendy, or stand fast with God? I am sure the planners of the revitalized Fanwood had good intentions,
but maybe look back before we look ahead. Fanwood-it could happen to you.
Fortunately God knows the plans he has for you, do you? Interested, just ask
him. He is guiding your steps even now, is the Bible or Oprah more of an
influence on your daily walk? Just as Fanwood could happen to you, so can
Jesus. Your choice, a façade or the real thing. A today with no tomorrow or a
today with a bright future? It was once asked of Jesus, “can anything good come
out of Nazareth?” It’s your town...can anything good come out of you?
I’ll keep my memories, and my Jesus. My memory may fade,
he never will.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com