On Neighbors
A couple of months ago, I had a moment. You know the ones. It starts ordinary and then something breaks through and it becomes extraordinary.
My daughter was babysitting a couple of doors down from us. It was late, and the kids were asleep, but the parents wouldn’t be home for a while, still, and she needed to finish some homework. She had left her computer cord at home, so she asked if I could bring it down to her. I grabbed it from her room and walked out the front door to deliver it. It was dark out and our neighborhood doesn’t have sidewalks, so rather than go out to the street, I took the shortest distance, which was straight across the front yard of the two houses in between. And as I cut across the grass in the dark, knowing that the people in those houses might look out the window and see someone on their lawn at 9:30 at night, I had a flashback to when we first moved in here…
Let me pause for a little background. I grew up way out in the country. Except for my years in college and a few years of my early married life, I have always lived in the country. My kids were born and raised in the country as well. That is, until about two years ago, when our lives took an unexpected turn, and we landed right in the middle of a neighborhood in the city. Neighbors are close on every side. This was, to say the least, a BIG change in our lives. It wasn’t what we wanted, but we were grateful for the way God had provided for us when we needed it and couldn’t deny that it was the right choice for now. But it was hard.
So, as I was walking down to deliver the computer cord to my daughter that night, in a flash, I remembered when we first moved into this neighborhood. Those first weeks felt so vulnerable. The first week, my kids wanted to sleep piled in bed with me. We were surrounded by people on every side and didn’t know a single one of them. We felt very out of place. Now, you should know that I travel a lot and I’m never bothered staying anywhere - hotels, AirBnbs, hostels. I love going to new places and am not the fearful type in general. So it wasn’t that. It was more the feeling of being out of place in what was supposed to be home, I guess. And a feeling of being a stranger. In the country, you are not close to your neighbors, but you know who shares a fence line and whose cows those are that came moseying up your driveway unexpectedly. But here? We could look in the windows on every side and not see a face we knew.
But this night? This night, I realized I was free to march through the yards of the houses near me because, guess what? I know them now. If they looked out their windows into the dark because their ring doorbell alerted them to movement they weren’t expecting at that hour, I could just… wave. As I looked around at the houses that night, I was overcome with gratitude that each one contained actual people to me now.
So, where am I going with this? I do have a point, I promise!
When I look at my Bible, I can easily overlook how many times God was concerned with our neighbors. But take the time to look, and it’s everywhere! Not the least of which, of course, is Jesus' famous answer to which of these commandments is the greatest, when he said (paraphrased) “Love God, and love your neighbor!” (Matt 22:36-39, Mar 12:28-31, Luke 10:25-28). But it’s sure hard to love neighbors we don’t even know, isn’t it?? And no, I’m not negating the importance of loving neighbors we don’t know, or strangers, or neighbors who don’t even live near us. (God certainly has some things to say about our temptation to take a “me and mine” mentality at the expense of other people who are also beloved of God. So I am not advocating for that here!) Those things matter a lot. But so does proximity. So does loving the physical neighbor on our street.
As I adjust to this new city life, I’m astounded by how many people I talk to in other neighborhoods who don’t even know their neighbors at all. Or maybe know one or two at most. I understand how difficult it can be in this day and age - it definitely took some time for us to reach this point, and some being very vulnerable in reaching out. And I know we got very lucky to land in a place that people had already started this process and welcomed us into the middle of it! But in a time where we are so deeply divided as a nation, as communities, and as the Church, I have to say I am becoming more and more convinced that while we may not be able to completely heal that division on a large scale, maybe - just maybe - Jesus knew what He was asking when He told us that next to loving God loving neighbors was to be one of our highest priorities. Maybe this, the small step to the house next door, is where we will exercise our love of God most profoundly. Our differences of religion and politics, and how we educate our children and lifestyle choices, are all somehow smaller when put next to someone I know, someone whose kids run back and forth through my yard, someone who would recognize my blue-haired self, cutting through their grass at 9:30 at night.
And to be totally honest? It just changes how you go to sleep at night when the light in the window next door holds not a stranger, but a friend.
This “love your neighbor” thing might just be the way after all!
Sarah Blair
Sarah has always said that it’s like two people live inside her— one a blue-haired old lady with a Bible in one hand and a cast iron skillet in the other, and the other a peace-loving hippie wannabe looking for a commune. Thankfully, the two seem to like each other pretty well, and the blue hair fits both personalities just fine!
Sarah calls Nashville home, where she lives with her husband, two kids, and whatever variety of animals the kids have convinced her to bring home. She loves Jesus, tea, travel, used bookstores, and her friends and family fiercely. If she ever has any free time, you’ll find her ignoring her messy house while drinking cup after cup of tea and reading a great book.