The Baptist Church on Pewter Dr. in Ladoga is by far the biggest building in the area, despite Crowder Estates, the private community blanketed in secrecy by the canopy of full trees that make the neighborhood feel as exclusive as it is. There is a big gate at the entrance to Crowder Estates that is always open, like ornaments to make it feel as important as the people who lived along the snaking road in the small green hills of the community. A long time ago, it was a golf course, but the mid-eighties saw the retreat of Ladoga’s wealthiest to the city’s northwest corner and a wise developer bought what was the failed West Ladoga country club and converted its golf course into the richest cul-de-sac in the area where he planted thousands of trees that have since grown into a roof over the whole thing. Millionaires live there, most seem to enjoy the seclusion of the place, as though their own luxury was an alternate dimension not easily accessed by interlopers. Some were the living history of Ladoga, who could plot their family tree all the way back to the town’s founders; the mostly Irish migrants seeking refuge from judgmental Virginians and also proximity to the life and action that nearby Charlotte had.
The city manager, Diane Marsh, lives in Crowder Estates. She has a nice house, but it isn’t the biggest and by no means the most expensive. Her family has been in Ladoga for generations and she’d acquired most of the real estate of downtown Ladoga through inheritance; the mostly two story, brick retail buildings that give downtown its feel, even though it peters out after only a handful of avenues. I met Mrs. Marsh the first time after a city council meeting where my mother had heard they would discuss the city’s ant problem. Marsh seemed adamant about fixing it and after the meeting I introduced myself and asked her for an interview (I admit that I lied and told her that it was for the Daily, but I figured that I could write something and email it to the editor, maybe they would put it on their site). I was very complimentary of the accomplishments that she had managed in the half-decade that she had held her position. Under her tutelage, the city had boosted the number of vendors at the farmer’s market and increased its prestige in the area. She was also an advocate for public transportation in Ladoga and managed to extend a route of Charlotte’s CATS buses into the city, though the schedule was limited to 8pm during the week and was nonexistent on the weekend. She was gracious enough to invite me to her home and when I drove to Crowder Estates I was nervous that I would be found out as a liar and I wondered why I had lied in the first place. I could have told her the truth. But the lie was an out, I could easily produce the thing that would satiated her and claim that the Daily didn’t like it, but if I told her that I was writing about the whole city like a character with its own strengths and maladies, she would be hurt to read it and find herself the boil on Ladoga’s ass. And that’s not to say that she is, only, going in, there was no way to tell how things would go. But when I was closer to Crowder Estates, I got completely distracted by the size of the Pewter Dr. Baptist Church that is the definition of mega-church. It has big slanting walls of stained glass that mix with stone ones to create the effect of a mosaic mountain, to suggest the summit where one is closest to the Father. Inside there is a sea of blue carpet with rows of wooden pews like lines on writing paper. There is a blue stage on the wall across from the door and a permanent drum set, piano, speakers, and microphones. The roof is so high up that it feels insignificant and you can’t help but be confused at the difference between the perception of the inside based on the view of the outside and the actual interior of the place. When it’s full, I learned when I took my family there the following Sunday, it feels like being at an outdoor concert, but instead of a musical act, it was a speaker with an instrumental and sometimes choral accompaniment. And it’s hard not to be swept up in the fervor of the mostly white congregation, though there was considerable diversity represented there including blacks, Asians, and Hispanics. The Pastor of the church, the Reverend Dr. Lloyd Wright, is a white man in his fifties, compact, almost short, but definitely impossible to miss. He is the kind of person who could stand on a corner talking and manage to collect a crowd of passersby. My perception of him when I went to the church was that he talked about religion the way that scientifically curious people thought about religion; people who thought it ignorant to deny the possibility of evolution and other scientific explanations for natural phenomena. His sermon the Sunday that I was there was about using religion as the the decoder for every secret of the universe. “Seek knowledge, investigate the unknown, develop mathematics and sciences to explain observable processes, because that is the mind that our God gave us, use his gifts. And when you find yourself stuck, look to God for the perseverance to solve the unsolvable, to answer the unimaginable, because it is in those efforts that we find ourselves closest to the God who made us in his image, the God of wonder who created the marvels of our universe. It is not hubris to heal, to create, to experiment; it is not heresy, how could it be? The hand of God can move men to be others’ salvation. I say, it’s heresy to deny yourself the duty of being able to engineer a heart, or to genetically manipulate healthier plants for consumption; it was Jesus himself who turned water to wine, whose body we consume as bread. We need only pray, align ourselves with the will of God and ask him if our pursuits are beneficial to a common good.” As he talked, people were mostly quiet, but when the band played and the choir sang, everyone stood and sang in unison. It was noticeably different from the churches I was used to, where the preacher practically sang his sermons and the people shouted and praised all throughout. It wasn’t better or worse, only different. But I will admit that the number of people at the Pewter Dr. church made it feel unnecessary for me to be there in person, that I would have enjoyed it better from my couch at home. I could only see the Reverend Dr. up close on the huge TV screen above the stage. They didn’t even send around collection plates, but there were bins where everyone could leave their offerings in sealed envelopes as they entered or left. One can also make donations on the church’s website. There is always controversy surrounding money and the church and it’s hard to ignore. It’s our perception of the church’s function that makes us look at the size of the church and the Reverend Dr.’s house with disdain. His house was built in Crowder Estates in 2005 and even though the seclusion of the neighborhood made it difficult for critics to get pictures of the entire home, it didn’t stop them from trying. It was reported, though, that the house was immense, with a swimming pool, jacuzzi and gratto; at least two garages filled with expensive, vintage cars; five rooms and almost twice as many bathrooms. Critics complain because as a very intimate servant of God and Jesus Christ, a baptist preacher is expected to live a humble life that is void of worldly indulgence, and a mansion the size people imagined the Reverend Dr.’s to be, suggested that he was not only indulgent, but at the expense of his followers who gave to him so generously.
The Reverend Dr. lives close to City Manager Marsh and when I was at her house for our ‘interview’ I couldn’t help myself but to ask her about the church that I had passed to get there and she seemed offended. I asked her if she attended the church, and she said that her family did and had even been to the Reverend Dr.’s for dinner. She refused to answer any questions about the size of his home and when I asked about it, she changed the subject to the city’s fire ant infestation.
“I’ve called in a specialist to determine the species and the most effective pesticide. The ants are too aggressive to consider any other option but thorough extermination. They’ve eaten through wires, crops, terrorized the livestock of the small scale farms we have in our rural areas. I heard a story about a toddler that was stung all over. The ants had found their way into her bed.”
The project would be funded by excesses in the city’s budget and Marsh assured me that their efforts would span all areas of the city. “It’s a wasted effort to even consider only addressing the problem on the West Side. The ants have legs. And we’re coordinating our efforts with neighboring cities with hopes of stomping out the problem in the region.”
Completely unsolicited and unprovoked, City Manager Marsh’s mood became more grave. “It’s strange to think we’re wiping out all the ants. They are a nuisance for sure, but they might think the same about us, you know? And if they could, would they just wipe us out the way we’re planning? In the case of these ants, I think almost surely they would eat us alive if we didn’t have a defense against them, so it’s us against them, but I wonder if it has to be this way? Do we have to compete for space like this? And can only one species survive?”
I think that it was really weighing on her to think about the extermination of the fire ants and I couldn’t help but think that maybe the Reverend Dr. had something to do with it. He was a progressive clergyman and not only did he trust and encourage scientific prowess, but he also believed that animals were more than just lowly, second-class occupants of the Earth. He believed in their wisdom and though he wasn’t a vegetarian, he advocated for and only bought meat products that had been raised naturally and humanely. His advocacy for animals was not as central to his ministry as embracing technology and science, but he was active in organizations that fought to preserve the dignity of animals in an age where convenience easily trumps empathy for the meat that we consume. He wrote an impassioned letter to his congregation that can still be found on the church’s website in which he argues that the dominion over animals given to humans by God was not a free pass to ignore the life that animals possess.
“Life is energy. When we consume energy, we take it into ourselves and it fuels us. If we take in the tortured energies of animals kept cooped in small pens then we consume the silent anxieties of those animals. There is no scientific proof of this, but it seems that we consume the tortured psyche of these animals and the result is autism, schizophrenia, attention deficit, and mania. It is not a sin to eat an animal, but it is not ideal, or appetizing for that matter, to eat an animal that was denied an opportunity to move its limbs or to have the sun on its face. These things become a hinderance to more profits and are ignored. It is all in the name of another evil, greed, but I will confine my thoughts to encouraging empathy when it comes to the food supply. And as much as I admire and encourage scientific advancement, I do think that we can go too far where the genetic manipulation of animals is concerned. I believe that we can use science to solve food shortage and nutrition problems around the globe, but we must be wary of tampering too much. And I will echo a point that I have made many times before, it is important that we consult God when making these decisions. I do not mean that we wait for a Godly edict about scientific ethics and food, nor do I believe that our problem is solved by sticking strictly to the dietary guidelines set out in the Bible. Both of those things ignore the current need of God’s people and we do better to expand the things that we eat in order to feed the growing numbers that exist on this planet. But if the scientists developing new technologies have God in their hearts, and we as consumers pray for the wisdom and continued education of those scientists, then we might be able to achieve a solution that does not sully consumers with food products that cause malady.”
City Manager Marsh asked my opinion of her solution and I told her that I thought she was doing the right thing. “You said it best, it’s them or the inhabitants of your city.”
She seemed to appreciate my agreement, though I am sure that my disagreement would have only made for an interesting moral argument; the plan to exterminate the ants had to move forward.
I asked her if she had discussed it with the Reverend Dr. and that was her last straw. “I’m sorry, Maxwell, but is this interview about me or Reverend Wright? You aren’t the first person to use my in with the Reverend for information to use against him. Like I told them, if you want to know about the Reverend, call him for an interview. Please, have a nice day.”
Dismissal aside, I found City Manager Marsh to be a very empathetic person and I left assured that the ant issue would be addressed. I have tried to schedule interviews with the Reverend Dr. but the city manager had made a good point, it was rare that anyone wanted to discuss anything other than the fading influence of religion on successive generations and whether he was taking advantage of the few left that still had any confidence in the wisdom of religious institutions. It’s a dog chasing his tail scenario where those looking for answers become more suspicious when the Reverend Dr. is evasive, but he is smart to deny access to those who only want to expose an imagined evil that they want him to be guilty of. I would hope to talk to the Reverend about the ways that he has made religion more relevant to people who have lived in the thick of the information age and benefited from the technologies that have evolved more quickly than most even realize. I wouldn’t have a choice but to ask him about the money. He invited those questions by choosing to live in an expensive neighborhood. But I wouldn’t nail him up for it, that’s someone else’s job.
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