I have been thinking about neighbors a lot lately. My neighbors across the street, for instance, a family of three, now. I’ve known the parents for nearly 10 years. We have taken care of each other’s dog or cat when one or the other of us was out of town. We have keys to each other’s houses. We visit, have dinner together occasionally, ask for help, offer a hand when needed. The seven-year-old drops by after school. Sometimes we talk. Sometimes she brings friends over; sometimes we play. I trust the bond between us will grow even stronger with time. I’ve known her all her life.
As I was writing yesterday (Friday), I spoke with her dad in the morning as he got ready to leave for the day. Later in the afternoon, another neighbor dropped by for a chat—someone I don’t see often—and we spent a few delightful moments talking about the yard, the fruit trees and special care needed by some of our neighbors. The evening before I had gone to the movies with another set of neighbors I’d been wanting to connect with for weeks. It just so happened they were free and I was free at the same time. All of these chance encounters were enjoyable and life-giving. They provided a sense of connection and community that is often lacking in my everyday life.
But as I thought about these neighbors, and other surprising experiences with people throughout the week, the backdrop was always today’s parable. What was Jesus saying, I wondered, in bringing so many neighbors into my life in such a short span of time? Not all experiences had been positive. There was the worker, for instance, who blocked my driveway while concluding 7-hours of heavy machinery work just outside my kitchen window, topped off by a leaf-blowing episode I thought would never end. It was hard to see him as my neighbor. It was a Mt. Everest challenge to even remember that God was as present in him as in me, let alone that I was commissioned by the Gospel to live into that truth RIGHT NOW! Everything in me wanted to scream at him!