The Back Door

I'm not an authority on architectural trends or styles, but it does seem that architecture reflects the prevailing attitudes of a society at a given point in time. For example, the great cathedrals of Europe were built when men in general held to a high view of God and a low view of self. In that otherwise benighted era known as the "dark ages," men had the good sense to understand that the buildings representing God should be the most stately, awe-inspiring and imposing of structures, while their personal dwellings should be utilitarian and relatively humble.

A cursory survey of church architecture throughout history indicates that only in recent days--say the last 30 years or so--has sacred architecture been muted and dwarfed by the opulence of private residences. Biblically speaking, however, such is not a new occurrence. Much of the preaching of the minor prophets focused on Israel's building luxurious homes in Jerusalem while the temple remained perpetually incomplete. I suppose it is the nature of man to easily shift his focus from the glory of God to the glorification of self.

That brings me to my topic or "pet peeve" for the day: doors. Of course, doors are a necessity in every clime and culture. They keep wanted things inside (children and pets) and they keep unwanted things outside (Jehovah's Witnesses and the neighbor's pets). No one would argue against the practical benefit of doors. Just to set the record straight from the get go, I'm in favor of doors--sturdy, attractive, lock bedecked doors.

What I'm questioning, however, is the contemporary concept of residential doors and entryways. In housing developments across the country, doors--particularly front doors--are becoming increasingly grand. I was driving past a cookie-cutter housing development the other day and I noticed the homes--brick fronts, vinyl siding, treeless yards. Apart from variations in color, each home was nearly a mirror image of its neighbor. The most striking feature of these homes, however, was the grandeur of their front entryways. Brick facades swept in grand archways to the roof line of the second stories. Enormous arched picture windows looked out over fancy wooden doors with etched glass insets and transoms. The lights of enormous chandeliers illuminated the entryway as if awaiting the arrival of European royalty. Frankly, it's all a little much. But maybe such opulent portals stand as an apt commentary on our society. Such grandeur typically appears in the "front" of the house. Perhaps the "front" door is really a "front," designed to impress and impose--designed to hide the real poverty within.

Before you think I'm losing it, consider the average home just a generation ago. There was a front door, or course, but no one used it much. Its purpose was to add symmetry to the structure and as a possible fire escape. In the neighborhood where I grew up, it was customary to see a little note taped to the inside glass of the front door: "Please use back door." Where I grew up, living rooms were small and frequently people placed large items of furniture in front of the front door, making its use impossible except under the gravest of circumstances. And all of this was O.K.--no one thought a thing about it. After all, we viewed ourselves and our neighbors as back door people. We all knew each other too well to bother trying to impress each other. It's funny today that we have impressive entryways, but we don't know our neighbors. In fact, they never have the opportunity to use our fancy doors. We're too busy, they're too busy, every one's too busy--trying to pay for the doors! Neighborhood kids don't freely use each other's back doors anymore because they don't play together as children used to. I grew up having friends whose back doors were as familiar and welcoming as my own. That's a rarity today. Children don't even approach a friend's back door spontaneously anymore. Acceptable contemporary etiquette requires parents to text each other with possible "play dates," synchronize schedules on blackberries, and work out rides in video-equipped mini vans--all to visit friends who live in the next cul-de-sac (Fr. meaning, "bottom of the sack"). (We didn't live in cul-de-sacs; we lived on blocks. Somehow we would have felt un-American to claim we lived in a cul-de-sac. We would have felt French, and that would have made us uncomfortable.)

Anyway, back to the doors: Ours was a back-door neighborhood. You were always welcomed to enter at the back door because those good folks had nothing to hide. Sure, sometimes the back door opened on the kitchen, and sometimes it was a mess. That was O.K. since every one's kitchen is a mess sometimes. (I pity families with perpetually neat kitchens. There isn't much good happening there!) You see, no one back in that neighborhood was pretending to be something he wasn't. We lived, played, laughed, wept, and worked in our homes. Our lives were similar. We shared joys, sorrows, success, and failure. There were family secrets, to be sure, but no one felt the need to impress--to put on a front.

When I first moved to Avon, Indiana, Kelli and I purchased a newly built home with a brick front. It had a rather grand entryway, though not so imposing as those I described earlier. We had a treeless yard like everyone else. Everything was new, shiny, and impressive. It was our first brand new home, and we felt like we'd finally arrived!

However, it wasn't a year before the sterility of the newness and artificiallity began to wear on us. The house had vinyl siding, molded to look like wood, but fake none-the-less. We noticed the trim was also molded vinyl--designed to look like real wood. In fact, the longer we lived there the more we realized that the whole house was an imitation of reality. What's worse, no one came to our back door (sliding glass opening onto a 5x8 concrete slab). In fact, no one (except the Jehovah's Witnesses) came to our front door. Though impressive, the neighborhood was plastic.

Long story short--we moved from that home into a circa 1920's farm house. Our home is quirky--creaky floors, ancient windows long ago painted shut, and real plaster (with real cracks). Perhaps the most striking and, for me, delightful feature of the house is its doors. We have thee doors leading to the outside, and none of them is a front door. In fact, all are on one side of the house. They all lead onto the back porch--one from the parlor, one from the dining room, an one from the kitchen. We don't use the doors in the parlor and dining room. We just use the door that opens directly on the kitchen. And I like it that way.

In just a few minutes I'll head for home. When I open that kitchen door, Kelli will be fixing supper. My appetite will be enhanced by the aroma whatever is cooking in the oven and on the stove. Perhaps Thomas and Matthew will be sitting at the kitchen table, distracting mom as she cooks. Of course the dog (English Springer) will bound for the door, tail wagging in sheer delight. I don't think those grand entryways ever witness such joy--the joy of just delighting in real, honest, down-to-earth living.

Sounds so good, I think I'll head for home.

The Wonders of Technology

What a grand opportunty is mine to address anyone who cares to read my new blog! I am not a "techie" person, and until recently I have doubted the power and influence of the internet. However, my new, young music director is convinced that there are people who would actually take time out of their schedules to occasionally read some of my musings. He assures me that people are actually interested in this type of thing, though I still have doubts about that.

At any rate, I will use this venue as a means to express a hodge-podge of ideas and thoughts. At times, depending on my mood, I might be preachy. At other times, I will just express personal opinions. I may even give some practical advice along the way.

Most certainly, if something makes me angry, you will read about it. And I might even give some political commentary. Of course, you must understand that in relation to politics I will be speaking only for myself--not my church or any other organization with which I am affiliated.

So, if you have too much time on your hands, feel free to check this site from time to time, or--better yet--subscribe to this blog and automatically receive blog updates as they are written.

It would be my delight to hear from you as well.

Preacher's New Blog

Friends, I have just started a new blog for everything "Monte."