I've been reading a book called The Art of Neighboring. I'm about 3/4 of the way through, and although interesting, it is really nothing earth shattering, or revolutionary. The focus of the book is to encourage the reader to connect on a personal level with people, beginning with those who live in our neighborhoods. It offers suggestions such as baking cookies to take to new neighbors, or offering to help a neighbor you see who might be struggling with an outdoor project. Common sense things, it would seem.
It is sad to me that the need for such a book exists. When I was growing up, we knew our neighbors. We knew about their lives, where they worked, and where they went to church. I took piano lessons from the lady 3 doors down, and I played with kids from all over the neighborhood. Of the sixteen or so houses on our street, I knew the names of everyone who lived in those homes. I also frequently went inside of at least twelve of those houses - usually to play with their children, or to babysit. I knew the stories of these families, and they knew ours. These days, people in most neighborhoods generally don't know one another. We drive out of our garages each morning, and back into them each evening, with nothing more than an occasional wave as we pass.
Not only were we connected with our neighbors when I was growing up, but we had an even stronger connection with our brethren. It was not uncommon for someone to stop by on a Saturday, just because they happened to be near our neighborhood. In fact, it was uncommon for that NOT to happen. And we did the same. Those people were closer than family. Our home was their home, and vice versa. We knew each other intimately, shared each others' joys, and helped each other through difficulties. I've often wondered how my brethren here and now would react if I just showed up at their door one day because I happened to be in the neighborhood. I don't really know what the response would be because people just don't do that sort of thing anymore. And as a result, we don't know each other as well as brethren did in times' past.
Sadly, I don't think the "art of neighboring" exists on the scale it once did, and I think the reasons for that are many. Perhaps the main reason is the very thing I'm doing right now - using the internet. While blogging, Facebook, email, and texting can be a wonderful source for keeping in touch, many tend to use those media as their only source of communication. When our girls were in Junior High, one of their friends lost her father, and I took the girls to the funeral. During the eulogy, the only mention of this man's friendships was his "online friends." The minister read from "posts" he had printed of these far away online friends' words of sympathy. I remember being shocked by that, and wondering why he didn't touch the lives of those he saw daily - or if he did, why no mention was made of them.
So, what's the solution? How do we get back to the place where we interact with people on a more personal level? Log off. Go outside. Make an effort. Learn about the lives of those you are around daily. Be more of a "there you are" person, and less of a "here I am" one. Visit someone, even if they seem shocked or uncomfortable at first - or, even better, invite someone into your home for a meal. Take someone out to lunch. Make a phone call instead of sending an email. Hand write a note or letter to mail instead of messaging someone on Facebook.
In Acts 2:46, the early Christians "continued daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house . . ." They saw the need for daily interaction on a personal level, and they grew as a result. Peter tells us in 1 Peter 1:22 that we are to "love one another fervently with a pure heart." We can't do that by waving from the inside of our cars, or seeing each other three times a week at a church building.
I'm logging off now, and don't be surprised to find me knocking on your door. I'll bring some cookies.
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