Who is my neighbor?

I am always a bit skeptical when folks say that life was so much better "the way things used to be." Usually, when someone says this, they are referring to some sort of mythical "Leave it to Beaver" or "Father Knows Best" or "Pleasantville" reality witnessed primarily on television, and perhaps in the wider American culture to a very limited degree. If that sort of lifestyle existed at all, it was only for a few years in the '50s, only for white suburbanites, only for Westerners, and only for married people with kids.

However, one thing that I do think was healthier until relatively recent history was the idea of neighbors. How many of you know the people who live next-door to you? Across the street? Down the street? Do you know their names? Do you know their needs and their desires and their experiences and their talents? Do you pray for them? Do you pray with them?

My wife Kelly and I recently bought our first house and moved into a suburban neighborhood, and discovered that no one was really that welcoming. No one dropping by to introduce themselves. No one helping us to unpack. No one coming over to invite us to dinner. But this shouldn't have been surprising to me; growing up, I don't remember doing any of those things with my neighbors. In fact, we rarely even used the front door. All we needed was a portal into the garage so we could get in our car and drive away. No need to even come into physical contact with the area around our house!

The sin begins, as usual, with me. I discovered that I usually knew nothing about my neighbors. I may keep in great touch via phone and email wtih friends on the other side of the world, but I choose against community with those enfleshed around me.

So Kelly and I decided to do something. It was a small decision, but hopefully a fruitful one. We resolved to bake a huge batch of chocolate-chip cookies, and to take a dozen to the three houses to either side of us, and to the six houses across the street. We included a card with our contact information. It's sort of a reverse "welcome to the neighborhood" kind of thing.

We found that the people were surprised and very happy to meet us. We found that people enjoy being valued, even in the tiniest way. We found that we live in an unusually racially-diverse neighborhood. We found that our neighbors are not that different than us. And we found out how we can pray for them.

Now Kelly and I begin the process of trying to be good neighbors to our new friends.

Comments

[TXPresbyterian]

Good points. I am one who knows my neighbors but not well. I greet them when we are out at the same time but don't go to a lot of effort beyond that. Sometimes I find myself hiding behind my introverted nature. I need to work on being more hospitable. I can still maintain the boundaries that are important to me while being a better neighbor.

[Rocky]

Mike,
Your reflections are poignant and well taken. Meredith and I live in an urban apartment complex, within feet of at least four other people who's names I'd be strained to tell you.

Blessings on yours and Kelly's faithful efforts.
Rocky

[Russell Smith]

While in Florida, one thing we did was hold a Christmas party for all our neighbors. That wasn't such a hit. But here in Cincinnati, our neighborhood seems to gel well -- we've had euchre nights at one family's house, outdoor movie nights at another's. A whole group of our folks in the neighborhood are all going camping in a few weekends together. It gives us a great community to step in and rub shoulders with.

Russell

[Rocky]

I love the idea of sharing a list of "neighborly" practices. So far we've got: baking cookies for neighbors, Christmas parties, euchre, outdoor movie nights, and camping. What else?

I suppose a good old fashioned face-to-face invitation to dinner still works?