Pink Flamingos

Last month I went out for the evening. When I returned, I noticed several strange shapes in my yard that I couldn’t quite make out in the dark. As I got closer, I realized there was not one, but over fifty pink flamingos standing in the grass. Upon closer inspection I found that there were even a few flamingos that had nested in the trees. On the front porch was a note from the youth who had “redistributed” the flamingos from Monica’s garage onto my yard. The next morning we cleaned up the flamingos (and forks), with the exception of one flamingo who stood defiantly in the tree, refusing to come down. We didn’t have the heart to remove him, so he is still happily nested in the tree, with the spring flowers budding around him.

I admire the pink flamingo. What makes them so fantastic is that they are exactly who they are, with no apology. In their pink splendor they stand proudly on their metal poles in a way that the passerby cannot help but laugh (which, by the way, is what my neighbors did the next morning). The flamingo is not a normal, suburban lawn ornament, nor does it pretend to be. Pink flamingos belong in Florida at an attraction, not in an Ohio front lawn. The flamingo knows this is not its home, but it is here temporarily, and so does not attempt to blend in by hiding behind a tree or painting itself brown. Instead the flamingo exists in the Ohio lawn as it is, without conforming to its surroundings.

So it is with us as Christians. We are called to live in the world, to be with people, to reach out to those in need, and at the same time to not be conformed to the values of the world but instead to be, who we are called to be by God. We become pink flamingos that refuse to conform to the values of materialism, power and popularity, refuse to blend into our suburban surroundings and instead seek to follow the way of Christ, choosing generosity over materialism, humility over power, hospitality over popularity. We are pink. We are plastic. We are unashamed.