Tonight was the big Christmas party that my church hosts every year. We had good food for everyone (somebody said about 500 folks came), and there was a room full of presents as well. The local news stations came out and taped segments that will air tomorrow. I had a wonderful time seeing all my friends from church and from Bob's youth program.
At church this morning, I saw the mom who didn't show up on Thursday. She had worked a double shift that day starting at 4am and was too exhausted to make it. A call would have been polite, but no harm was done. We'll probably try to get together after the first of the year, and she mentioned that she'd like to bring some of the guys in the neighborhood with her—including some of the ones I mentioned in my very first post on this blog. This could work out very well!
On Friday, I went to Bob's house for a "friends of Brookside" meeting. On Saturday, I went to a planning meeting at the megachurch on the north side that has sponsored our church for some time. Unfortunately, there has been a good bit of turmoil related to leadership transitions in the church and conflicting priorities between Bob's youth program and the small church I attend. Please pray for peace... I think the various situations will eventually get worked out, but I want cool heads to prevail in the meantime.
Ordinarily, I keep introspection off this blog, in the belief that it unnecessarily exposes myself and bores my audience, but this post is an exception. As of late, I have been struggling with how, and to what extent, I should forgive and/or trust various people. For example, there is one kid in Brookside whom I had hung out with in August who later tried to forcibly take my car. I wasn't terribly concerned about the matter, both because I expected such treatment from that kind of kid and because I had intentionally made myself vulnerable to him and his friends. A couple weeks later, I had the opportunity to talk to him on the phone, and he tried to act like nothing had ever happened. In regard to this, I made the following comment on my blog in August: "Maybe reconciliation is in the future, although I will demand an apology from him first."
Last week, I saw him briefly after church, and he again acted very gregarious, saying he and his friends hadn't seen me in the hood and were wondering where I was. That morning, I had invited his mom and her family to my house, so I told him that he and his friends were invited, too (it's hard to convey here, but this is not nearly as dangerous as you might imagine... please don't worry!). He asked about my car, and I told him that I had "gotten rid" of it and bought a cheaper one because the kids showed no respect. He acknowledged that "they took your kindness for weakness." I have no idea whether his comments were genuine; he could have merely been trying to determine if the Acura was still available as a theft target, or he may have been genuinely remorseful and trying to mend fences. I don't know.
I mentioned this incident to W, reiterating that I would hold this kid at arm's length until he apologized to me, and W vociferously disagreed (something he does rather often), claiming that I didn't have the love of Christ and was being vindictive and unloving. I explained to him that I was still trying to love this kid—I am, after all, inviting him to my house, and I would love to sit down and chat about life with him. But I don't trust him, and I treat him differently now than I would if I felt he were truly sorry about what he did.
Is this response right? It seems to me that the only way I can forgive someone who is not apologetic is to first disrespect him: "You're just a poor little hoodlum who has no conscience; I can only expect you to act like that." I thought I was giving him genuine respect by demanding that he behave like a man, or take responsibility for his mistakes if he doesn't act like a man.
Jesus emphatically taught that Christians ought to forgive those who wrong them, but he also emphasized the importance of confronting those who wrong us and apologizing when we are in the wrong. To forgive someone who refuses to apologize for his/her error seems to be the same as pretending that it never happened, which is dishonest and disingenuous. Bill Gothard, a charismatic but eccentric speaker who is influential in ultra-conservative Christian circles, says that we should always forgive others, apology or no apology. He explains why: we should simply have no expectations of anyone; that way, we'll never be let down. But therein lies the conundrum: if I have no expectations of the kid on the street, or of my close friends, or of my parents, or of the leaders in my church, then it follows that I don't respect them, either. Expectations are necessary and good.
But I hate this dilemma. Casually waving aside offenses seems so dishonest, so fake—yet demanding that my friends and confidants and elders be honest about their mistakes is making me sick. I want to genuinely love other people, not just be nice to them, and honesty is essential for that to happen. What do you think?
Well, they never showed up last night. I tried calling, but no one answered. There must have been a misunderstanding. Maybe I'll learn more at church on Sunday.
Five months ago, I decided to buy a home in downtown Indianapolis. After spending a few weeks doing my homework and shopping around, I settled on a small house in Brookside. Unfortunately, a sequence of events convinced me that it was unwise to live there, so I started over, this time in a much better neighborhood a mile away. The second house took months to close because it required multiple inspections and repairs. After closing, I had to remodel the kitchen, which was in poor condition and had a dangerous gas leak. Tonight, I finally completed the work on the kitchen and hauled the remaining building scraps to the backyard. The house still needs a little more work, but it's now finished enough to have guests over.
Just in time, too—I'm having a family from church over for dinner tomorrow (today, technically). They are, incidentally, the folks discussed in here and here. A couple of the kids are very smart but have made some bad decisions, and I would love to build friendships with them. I hope and pray that this house will open up opportunities in Brookside, since that's the only reason I bought it. I plan to have some other folks (only adults this time) over on Sunday after church, and the other Sunday School teachers have invited themselves over, although we haven't yet picked a date. I optimistic about this house, but I have no idea how events will unfold...