Comes now the weird tale of pickleball and a second century church in Toms River, New Jersey, a city of 100,000 and 75% white and, apparently, keen on pickleball. Who knew?
Buckle up, folks, it’s your old pal, the Big Red Car, and I’m about to run over the boneheaded scheme cooking in Toms River, New Jersey.
The township’s council, in a move that reeks of small-town stupidity, wants to seize 11 acres from Christ Episcopal Church — dating from the US Civil War — via eminent domain to build a fancy-pants waterfront park with 10 pickleball courts, a soccer field, and a skate park. Yeah, you heard that right—pickleball courts!
This isn’t just a land grab; it’s a gutless attack on a church’s mission, and I’m here to call it out for the pathetic power trip it is. Toms River’s council needs to get its head out of its collective rear and ditch this dopey plan before it crashes and burns.
Christ Episcopal Church has been a Toms River landmark for 160 years, feeding the hungry, hosting 12-step programs, and lifting up the downtrodden while the township was still figuring out how to pave its roads.
In July 2023, the church stepped up with a plan to turn its outreach office into a 17-bed homeless shelter, tackling Ocean County’s shameful lack of year-round shelters.
But apparently, that’s too much do-gooder energy for some whiny NIMBYs and the council’s band of bureaucratic buffoons. On April 30, 2025, the Toms River Township Council, with all the transparency of a used car salesman, slipped an ordinance onto the agenda with less than 24 hours’ notice to snatch the church’s 11-acre property for a “waterfront park.”
This masterpiece — shown above — includes 10 pickleball courts and a nautical-themed playground—because nothing screams “public necessity” like pandering to paddle-wielding yuppies.
The Toms River council’s 4-3 vote to push this travesty forward, with a final decision set for July 30, 2025, stinks worse than a Jersey landfill. Mayor Daniel Rodrick calls the timing a “coincidence.”
Sure, Danny, and I’m a Ferrari.
This is retaliation, plain as day, for the church daring to care about the homeless.
This eminent domain stunt is a masterclass in idiocy. The Fifth Amendment says the government can take private land for a real “public use” with fair pay, but New Jersey courts don’t swallow the kind of flimsy nonsense Toms River’s peddling.
Back in CRDA v. Banin (1998), Jersey judges laughed a casino parking lot grab out of court for being pretextual, and this pickleball pipe dream deserves the same smackdown.
The township’s already got parks like Shelter Cove—do we really need to steamroll a church to give hipsters more room to whack a plastic ball?
The church’s attorney, Harvey York, is swinging for the fences, arguing this violates the First Amendment and the Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act (RLUIPA), which protects churches from land-use rules that kneecap their mission unless the government’s got a damn good reason.
Newsflash, Toms River: a park to block a homeless shelter ain’t it. If you’re fretting about safety, try talking to the church like grown-ups instead of playing eminent domain bully like a bunch of spineless bureaucrats.
The timing here is so blatantly retaliatory it’s almost comical.
Mayor Rodrick’s “coincidence” excuse is as believable as a politician promising lower taxes.
The ordinance dropped right after the church’s shelter proposal, like a cheap shot from a council too cowardly to admit they’re punishing a church for its compassion.
Rev. Lisa Ann Hoffman and the Episcopal Diocese of New Jersey aren’t falling for this hogwash, and neither are the 6,500-plus folks who’ve signed a Change.org petition telling the council to shove it.
A GoFundMe’s pulled in nearly $15,000 for the church’s legal war chest, with community heavyweights like Rabbi William Gershon calling out this nonsense.
Pickleball’s the hot new thing—yawn—but the township’s acting like it’s a life-or-death crisis to lack 10 more courts.
Meanwhile, Ocean County has zero year-round homeless shelters.
The church’s plan — paid for with church money — would help the most desperate, while the council’s chasing a nautical-themed playground like kids obsessed with shiny toys.
How about a shelter for folks drowning in poverty, you tone-deaf opportunists?
This isn’t just Toms River’s problem; it’s a warning sign for every community where power-hungry suits think they can misuse eminent domain to squash good deeds. If these clowns can seize a church’s land to block a homeless shelter and call it “public use,” what’s stopping them from grabbing your synagogue for a dog park or a mosque for a splash pad?
The US Supreme Court Kelo decision (2005) already let governments stretch “public use” to cover private developers’ wet dreams; we don’t need Toms River’s dimwitted council turning it into a weapon for zoning vendettas.
In the Kelo case, a city took residences to give to a real estate developer to build a property for Pfizer. Pfizer pulled out of the project. Ooops!
The church, backed by the diocese and a fired-up community, is ready to drag this to court, and they’ve got the law on their side—New Jersey’s tough eminent domain rules, RLUIPA, and the First Amendment.
If this hits the courtroom, the township’s pickleball fantasy will crash faster than a bad startup, especially if evidence shows they’re just bullying the church.
Toms River, get your act together and kill this ordinance. Work with the church on the shelter like civilized people, not petty tyrants.
Need pickleball courts? Find a vacant lot that doesn’t involve screwing over a 160-year-old institution.
Toms River residents, keep the heat on—sign that petition, pack the July 30 council meeting, and tell Mayor Rodrick and his cronies to quit playing games with people’s faith.
The Big Red Car’s parked squarely with Christ Episcopal Church. Eminent domain isn’t a toy for small-minded council members to throw tantrums with. Using it to ditch a homeless shelter for pickleball courts isn’t just dumb—it’s a moral trainwreck. Let’s make Toms River a place where compassion outshines paddle-swinging nonsense.
But, hey, what the Hell do I really know anyway? I’m just a Big Red Car. Fuck pickleball.
