Like a Good Neighbor . . .

. . . can you finish the phrase?

Of course you can. It’s a jingle we have all heard since our dear Barry Manilow committed that music to paper in 1971. But have you ever stopped to think about what it’s really trying to say? “Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.” What in the world is a good neighbor? Is it someone who always supports your amateur bakery by sacrificing a cup of sugar? Is it someone who watches your pets while you are away? Is it someone you can chat with over the hedge about your personal life while shirking your landscaping duties?

Yes, yes, and yes . . . but I believe there is much more to it. We are surrounded by literal neighbors–individuals in front, in back, and on every side of us–but how many times in elementary school did the teacher ask you to work with your “neighbor“? Who hasn’t been greeted by the kindly old gentlemen giving you a firm handshake and with a thundering “Howdy neighbor!” welcomes you to the town? And even Mr. Rogers wanted the world-wide television audience to be his neighbor; so what does it mean to be a neighbor? I would wager that I’m not the only one who has pondered this question. In fact, I know I’m not the only one who has pondered this question. Nearly 2,000 years ago a cunning lawyer asked the Master the same question. The answer that came is one of the most well-known moral stories around the globe:

“‘A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. 

And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 

And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side. 

But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, 

And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 

And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.’ 

Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?”

That rhetorical question prompts an insight into our original discussion: Who is my neighbor? You are, Reader. Who is your neighbor? I am. We all live on this earth, not in separable and individually built and owned chunks of earth, but on the same, solid planet. We all live in the same, earthly neighborhood. We all play on the same, earthly playground. In the broadest and most basic sense of the word, we are all neighbors.

So, are we always there, just like a good neighbor ought to be? Perhaps the better question to ask is, “Do we even see each other as neighbors?” Now, I’m not suggesting that we should meet and greet everyone on the street as if they were life-long, hedge-sharing friends (because that would be weird); but I am suggesting that we take the time to look at each other, if only for a moment, and remember that the person we see passing us by on the street is more than a nobody. He’s even more than a somebody. He is our neighbor. With the world viewed through this lens, our little quarrels and squabbles don’t seem to mean as much. In fact, they don’t even seem to happen very often. We will begin to see our friends as neighbors, not nobodies; and we will begin to understand them, not disregard them.

One of my most beloved fictional heroes goes by the name of Atticus Finch. The funny thing about him, though, is that he seems to transcend fiction. To me he is a very real, moral figure that teaches me how to look at others, how to treat them, and how to love them. He once reminded his frustrated Scout that “you never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view … until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.” He very clearly understood that understanding and appreciation are the building blocks for any firm neighborly foundation, and he knew that two people don’t have to agree in order to get along. I imagine him being that guy that everyone could trust. I imagine him being that guy that made everyone feel secure. Without question he was the best neighbor anyone could have had in Maycomb, Alabama. I wish I was his.

Remember that you are a neighbor, and please be a good one. Let others know through your words unspoken that you will always be there, and in return I think you will find that good neighbors will forever be there to surround you.