"New neighbor," he thought as he swung his ragged Pinto into his driveway, he noticed the new neighbor's car.  It was a shiny old Chevy, freshly restored from the looks of it.  Hank shut the engine on the Pinto, but as usual it dieseled and clunked around under the hood before finishing in a hissing death rattle, spewing a cloud ofblack smoke out the tailpipe.  Hank had never understood why an engine would try to keep running after the key was turned off, especially when it would barely run with the key on.
 Later that week it seemed like his new neighbor had settled in, and Hank decided to cross the road and introduce himself.  Hank wasn't really such a nice guy, and most people didn't like him, but he was always looking for a new friend. He looked the beautiful old Chevy over as he walked past it.  It was a gorgeous blue color, with chrome pipes running down the sides, magesium wheels and white-letter tires.  It sported Louisiana license plates, and one of those odd little fish outline symbols with a cross inside it on the trunk lid.  As he glanced back at the car to have a look at the polished grille, he saw a "W.W.J.D." tag on the front bumper.  "Apparently this guy is a hot rod nut and a religious fanatic," Hank thought.
 Hank walked up the steps onto the  porch landing and gently rapped his knuckles on the screen door facing.   Bumping and thumping sounds came  from inside, and he could hear footsteps.  The door opened.  The man Hank came to meet looked exactly like he expected except for one thing.  He  didn't expect a guy with a Christian fish symbol on his hot rod and a "What Would Jesus Do" tag to come to the door with a beer in his hand. Hank did expect a "joe gearhead," one of those guys who works on his car all the time, and this fellow sure fit that description.   The new neighbor was a balding man in his mid thirties, with powerful forearms, a two day growth of whiskers on his face, a round belly beginning to hang over his belt, and grease under his fingernails.  His hand was rough to the touch and strong when Hank reached out to shake.
 "I'm from across the road," Hank ventured, "my name's Hank and I just wanted to say hello."
 "My name's Pete," the big fellow returned, as a young woman stepped up behind him in the trailer. He turned slightly and gestured, "And I guess you know Cheryl."  Hank nodded,
 "Hi, Cheryl." Cheryl lived a few trailers down the way and she seemed to spend time with lots of different men. Hank knew her in passing, but he steered clear of her.  He wondered how much this beer-drinking Christian knew about Cheryl, then instantly decided it wasn't his problem.  Pete invited him in, Cheryl made her hasty and somewhat embarrased exit, and Hank engaged in conversation with Pete for a few minutes in the living room of the trailer.  Pete offered him something to drink, but he declined.  The place had the yeasty smell of beer, coupled  with cigarette smoke.  There was the clutter of boxes and packing strewn about, and Hank noticed a Playboy magazine lying on the table.
 "I'll have this place in order in a few days," Pete said, noticing how Hank's eyes swept the room. Hank didn't know too much about Christianity, but he didn't think beer, cigarettes, and girly magazines were consistent with the Christian lifestyle.   
 It seemed as they conversed that Pete had moved to town for a change of scenery; he said he had gotten tired of the place he had lived in Louisiana, and so he landed a job at a local dealership service department and moved to Mississippi.  Hank didn't really think he and Pete would have much in common.  Pete was a "gearhead," all right.  Almost everybody has a passion for something. Cars were Pete's passion, and the Chevy was his pet.  Hank, on the other hand, wasn't sure which way to turn a bolt if he decided to take one out, and he could barely find the dipstick on his Pinto, let alone identifying anything under the hood.
 "Wanna have a look at my Chevy?" Pete asked.
 "Sure."  They made their way outside to where the polished steel chariot of fire sat shining in the sun.
 "I wanted a place that had a garage or carport, but this was the only place I could find on short notice." Pete was checking the paint for bird droppings and pine tar. He opened the hood to reveal an engine that appeared to have been lifted from the pages of an American Hot Rod magazine.  Everything sparkled and shined and looked  really expensive.
 "Do you ever partcipate in car shows?"
 "Every time I get a chance," Pete replied.
 "They're having one over at the mall all this weekend." Hank told him.
 "I know.  I'm already registered for Sunday."  Hank had an idea forming, and he decided to pursue it.  Hank could be a sort of a jerk sometimes...
 "I'm a mechanic." he said.
 "Really?" Pete returned, shooting a glance at the Pinto.  "Where do you work?"
 "For the city."
 "In the shop?"
 "No, I work for the sanitation department." 
 "So, when do you do your mechanic work?" Pete asked, puzzled. "That Pinto runs pretty bad, and I noticed you weren't able to get your lawn mower started the other day."
 "Oh, I don't work on anything, I just tell people I'm a mechanic."
 "Why?"
 "Well, it just sounds like a macho sort of occupation, and I have been intending to learn more about it."
 "It seems odd that you would call yourself a mechanic and not know how to do the work." Pete mused.
 "Are you a Christian?" Hank asked him
 "I sure am!" Pete said,  "How did you know?"
 "I didn't know, really. And I'm still not too sure.  I saw the fish symbol and the 'W.W.J.D.' tag on your car, but then you showed up at the door drinking a beer.  Inside your trailer I saw a Playboy magazine lying on the coffee table, and everybody in this trailer park knows about Cheryl.  I don't know a whole lot about Christianity, but I'll
 rough  and stained; it's plain that you handle wrenches.  I see your passion in this shiny car you're so proud of.  But I didn't hear about Christianity.  I saw the Jesus junk on your car and expected to see a Bible on the coffee table and a 'praying hands' picture on the wall, but instead I saw a pornographic magazine on the table and a Snap-on tools photo calendar of half-naked women on the wall by the door.  I expected to find out that you were going to church somewhere tomorrow, but I found out you'll be at the mall all day Sunday."  Hank's eyes dropped for a moment to the tag on the front bumper. "Now tell me, if I were this 'Jesus' character coming to your door,  what would I say to you?"

 Isn't Hank a jerk?  But what defense did Pete have agaist his criticism? 
 I knew of a man who had a big Jesus Saves sign painted on the tailgate of his pickup truck.  I thought the sign was pretty neat until I found out how hard he was to get along with and how hateful he could be if things didn't go his way.  Maybe Satan had him under attack all the time.  I've heard business people say that Christians can be the very hardest customers to satisfy and the most prone to complain.  None of us is perfect, but how many unbelievers are turned away from the Savior every day by Christians who don't live right?  We're supposed to be ambassadors for Christ, but like the Corinthian Christians who hired prostitutes on Saturday and went to church on Sunday, Pete needed to be telling the truth and living  better than his neighbor if he wanted to make a difference. 
 How may unbelievers (like Hank) know that Christ is the only way to life but choose to indulge their sinful passions?

 "For if we go on sinning willfully after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins, but a certain terrifying expectation of judgment, and the fury of a fire which will consume the adversaries.  Anyone who has set aside the Law of Moses dies without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses.  How much severer punishment do you think he will deserve who has trampled under foot the Son of God and has regarded as unclean the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified, and has insulted the Spirit of grace?"                Hebrews 10:26-29

 Some denominations claim the passage above proves a Christian's salvation can be lost, but it never says the person in question was saved to begin with.  It only says they received KNOWLEDGE of the truth, and we all know  there are many who know the way but don't take it.  In a word, this repeats what Jesus said, i.e., "...no one comes to the Father but by Me."

 We all know in our better moments the difference between right and wrong.  And there are people who were "W.W.J.D." stuff  but couldn't care less  what Jesus would do when we're in the midst of a fit of road rage.  How important is our witness?  Those of us who aren't willing to walk the  walk of a believer should lose the fish symbol and the 'W.W.J.D. stuff so unbelievers won't be so confused by our behavior.              R.W.M.