Religion: Love thy nearest homeowner
Love thy neighbor. Along with the sweeping idea of loving God, all of human history hangs on that concept of doing something nice for the man who lives next door. Unthinkable. Leviticus 19:18 and Matthew 22:36-40 say as much. Anthony Esolen has a great big piece in the Touchstone archives about the matter. He says what most of us already know, that in America, we seem to be very detached neighbors. This isn’t the case everywhere, to be sure. But as a rule, there it is. We used to be good neighbors, and now we are not. Esolen thinks it’s a matter of economics.
If your house needs a new roof (ours does), every man on your street has at one time or another put a new roof on his own or a neighbor’s house. If the pump to your well needs to be filled and primed and started (ours did), the fellow up the road is good at that and will come over to show how it’s done.
If an enormous half-dead spruce is hanging over your house (one is) and needs to be dispatched, the old man with the perpetual yard sale, who once lived in your house and enlarged the kitchen and dug the well and hung swings in the barn, will bring back his chainsaw from his grandson’s in Halifax and gather a couple of men to help you chop it down. That man is on the yonder side of eighty.
And he makes an even better point: “There is yet another cause of neighborlessness, one so obvious it surprises me that no theologian I know of has remarked upon it, not even the pope, keenly attuned to the bodily nature of man though he be. Home-schoolers know what it is. Simply this: You cannot have a neighborhood when no one is home. Neighborhood life does require the fostering arts of wives and mothers.”
This is why my wife and daughters are now best friends with the two elderly men who live on our cul-de-sac, and why our property values have increased: because my family keeps criminals off the street during the day and makes the place seem a little more alive, when they are in the front yard, or sitting by the large living room windows, or walking to the park. Neighborhood watch, for real. But, we can’t go back. We can never go back. But we can move forward and figure out some kind of way to become better neighbors, to be more involved, to welcome the new family to their new home, to ask to borrow something just to have a reason to talk to the man. A great essay.




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back to top24 Comments to “Religion: Love thy nearest homeowner”
There is much about living in So Cal that is pleasant, but one huge design flaw was perfecting the back patio and not building front porches. We should start a campaign for this endangered spieces, Save the Front Porches!
We have been blessed with two great neighborhoods. When we lived in Orange County we were on a long cul de sac where it seemed all the SAHMs were. Kids ran in and out of houses. Neighbors helped split wood, trim fruit trees and with plumbing and car matainence. BFFs were made there.
Now in SD county we have a lot of older neighbors so they are the ones in and out of each others houses with good wine finds or recipes. And having seven kids we are constantly dispatching one to a elderly neighbor to help with something.
Still, we’d all love a front porch:)
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I confess that I didn’t pay much attention to my neighbors until I started staying home with my son and now I’m not sure that wasn’t a good thing. Some of them are a little weird.
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KBells,
You mentioned yesterday that this son is adopted. How did you find him?? (If that’s okay to ask…)
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Momof5, through a private agency. The social worker gave the birth mom a list of agencies, she pick ours. The agency gave her a list of couples interested in her baby, she picked us.
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Neighborhood life does require the fostering arts of wives and mothers.
Except, poor neighborhoods can’t enjoy these arts, because their women have to be on their jobs.
Poor neighborhoods are still neighborhoods, however. Maybe all they need is poverty, racial discrimination, and Black music.
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We have a unique neighborhood. We are related to 8 other households (siblings, parents, grandparents) right off of 2 connecting roads. The kids can walk over to play with cousins.
We moved from a nice brick home in a subdivision to a mobile home on a dirt road, but the neighborly opportunities with family were really worth the change.
Only a few of us here have front porches, but we have the “front porch” mentality, anyway.
I think the economic point is a good one, too. Ever see the crowd of men that appears when a car hood is up with tools scattered about?? But now we tend to take it to the shop instead…the opportunities for helping out are fewer, since our cars, etc. require computer diagnostics rather than backyard mechanics these days. We rely on specialists rather than neighbors now.
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Thanks, KBells. What a blessing for him and his birth mom for him to have a safe place to land. Adoptions, to me, are such a beautiful picture of God choosing us to be in His family.
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Walls make for good neighbors but they do not make for great ones. People have just settled for less and but walls.
Adios,
I AZ it is like CA. We have our Arizona rooms, patios, pools and spas all in the back yard behind wall.
If the back yard was the front yard, it would be more conducive for neighborly get togethers. But, before you know it, a whack job would move next door, take one of their young kids that they now wish they would have aborted, murder them by drowing the poor child in your pool and then sue you ,claiming it was an avoidanle adn preventable accident. Claiming that you should have stopped them from murdering the kid in some way, like building a wall around your front yard too.
In the old days, neighborhoods were homogeneous. Very much the same age, same socioeconomic conditions, same political party and same religion. They got along well because they had much in common enjoyed each other and they were normal.
Now we have to live with whack jobs everywhere and they would vote for Obama as soon as they would kidnap your kid or kill their own. It is just not safe because you can never trust your life or money to a whack job.
One day you will have to admit the the world grows more insanely dangerous in all ways because whack jobs, the socialist party they belong to and the people they elect into office, have been allowed to change the rules that always work to those that never do.
The fox is in charge of your hen house and your house and hens are now theirs. They will confiscate both to give to someone else who is as poor and miserable as they are – blaming you for it too – making you just as poor miserable and miserable claiming it is fair – making fairness the same as theft. Yes Stealing from you is nothing more than being perfectly fair to them – and you better get used to it since they outnumber you and they see your house and hens plain as day.
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I have a great front porch, but to be honest I’m not out on it much.
But what I also have are dogs. Walking them through the years has provided me with the opportunity to meet many of my neighbors — young, old, kids, seniors — I normally would never have even seen, let alone crossed paths with long enough to stop for a chat.
Still …… There is a disconnect, I’m afraid, in our modern-day neighborhoods. My next-door neighbors and I often haul each other’s trash cans in after pickups and do other small things for one another (they always seem to be doing more for me, however, since I’m single).
But I didn’t find out until 3 months after the fact that the cheerful little 80-something Italian woman who lives just a block away — and had the most spectacular flower gardens — had died.
Someone said her obituary even ran in the newspaper I work for (and I always look at those), but I somehow missed it. Probably because I never took the time to learn her full name.
I need to do better.
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We have a neighbor three houses to the south who fixes our bikes whenever they need repairs, and our elderly neighbors to the east are always bringing over extra cucumbers (my wife and I made pickles and relishes this morning) and extra prime roast leftover from their dinners.
In turn, I deliver extra squash, tomatoes and peppers from our vegetable garden to every neighbor around us. It’s not that I expect something in return, but that good neighborly relations are the livelihood of a true community.
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Was it Martin Luther who said we are to be “Christ to our neighbor”?
And what would that really look like, day in and day out, in our real-world lives and neighborhoods?
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momof5, thank you, though, like most parents, I don’t always feel qualified for the task.
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Some of my best neighbors were the ones in the military quarters we lived in. I have found that the reason for that was probably because fewer wives worked outside the home – worthwhile careers that are portable are harder to come by, and most of us were of the opinion that no one was going to raise our children the way we would. We were each other’s eyes and ears and there was always a number of women at the playground with their kids. We knew who was new and who was who. We knew when someone needed a meal prepared because they were either packing in or packing out or coming home with a new baby from the hospital. We were family away from home and the emergency contact numbers when we needed someone else to pick up our kids at school, (usually because we were doing something with one of the other kids). I really miss that the most. We had a common bond. Even though we were so transient, we made friends with these people we’d never see again once we moved to a new duty station. And we didn’t even own the places where we lived. When my husband was TDY (That’s away on temporary duty for you civilians), Often a neighbor would shovel my driveway or cut my grass, especially when my kids were small. We all took care of each other and watched out for each other. This was in the 1980s and 1990s.
The military communities I have lived in have been much tighter than the civilian communities I have lived in since our retirement. I think that when women are at home, they do get to know the other women who are at home. Civilian communities tend to have both spouses working anymore, so there is no one to get to know until after the work day is done when most people just want to be left alone. There are few common bonds anymore.
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His description of a Cape Breton neighbourhood is true of most of Atlantic Canada and is the reason many will move home after working in Ontario or Alberta. Atlantic Canadians I work with or know will return “home” any chance they can get and when the rare job in their field becomes available “down home” they will stay. However, this down home spirit is there not just because of poverty but because of a 400 year old tradition of fishing and farming established first by the French and later Irish/Scot settlers. they have more in common with European peasantry than a farmer in the Canadian prairie.
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Scroop Moth,
I’m willing to bet that poor neighborhoods have more SAHM’s–families that aren’t living beyond their means.
Yes, walking a dog does help one get to know neighbors. I know a good number of mine, for various reasons (I work for one), but I don’t even know the first name of one lady catty-corner across the street from me whom I’ve been waving at for five years if we both happen to be in our front yards at the same time.
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I agree with you, Klasko. Perhaps it’s because we knew we were far from home and didn’t have anyone close to depend upon, we quickly made friends with our neighbors–many of whom remain my closest friends even though they’re widely flung around the country now(with a big concentration in the DC area near you).
But I think that’s part of HSK’s point–we needed each other. I spent the night at my next door neighbor’s house three weeks after she moved in because she had a baby in the middle of the night and they had to leave two children sleeping. I wouldn’t dream of that in my current neighborhood–though everyone is friendly.
The civilian world felt a lot colder than the military world, and a lot less friendly. Strange, that. I find, however, I’m fascinated by the families at our church who have been there 30+ years and watched their children grow up together. They have graciously offered to help anytime I need something–and I’m thankful.
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You are right, Michelle – we ARE practically twins!!
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My wife loves privacy and hates to hear or see neghbors. One way one stays married 42 years is to say “Yes, Dear,” when one spouse says, “Let’s move away from the city and from our neighbors.”
We now live about a quarter mile from our nearest neighbors. We are non-believers with a daughter who lives with her female partner and her partner’s four-year old daughter. Our neighbors our devout Christians and both worked (before retiring) for the Boy Scouts. They have had our daughter, her partner, and our granddaughter over to meet their chickens and ducks.
Today we met at a store and talked about our gardens in the middle of the store for half an hour. When we got home, the neighbor brought over a dozen eggs from her hens. My wife gave her a bunch of potatoes she had just dug out of the garden and invited them over for dinner on the weekend after this one. We say grace with them when we have dinner at their place, they omit it with us when they come over.
Sometimes the farther one gets from one’s neighbors the closer one gets. I have no explanation. Go figure.
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Back to the military community again–Dad was Air Force, and went on lots of extended TDYs. Mom felt very comfortable in the 70s participating in a babysitter co-op arrangement with other military wives, even new to the area. When a family watched another family’s kids, they earned points they could cash in for a babysitter. (Military didn’t earn much, so had to get creative.)
It seemed that the military community had a larger-than-usual concentration of foster parents, as well. Maybe it just seemed that way since my folks were foster parents and knew others who were as well…that’s certainly possible.
Taking care of each other was definitely part of the military life.
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Hey Random – I don’t suppose – being that you don’t much believe in God – that it occurred to you that your moving to your island was God’s way of giving you these neighbors for a purpose?
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Random,
GOD’s plans are sometimes obvious. The LORD loves you Random, think about how much.
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Karen and Victoria,
I will politely say that I am not convinced of the conclusion you draw. I am in a good mood and on good behavior for at least the rest of this weekend, so I will stop there.
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Random – So, by saying that you are in a good mood “for at least the rest of this weekend”, does that mean you’re planning to be in a bad mood for the week? I hope not!
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Karen, my mood changes from day to day and minute to minute. I woke up this morning and kissed my wonderful wife, and that put me in a good mood. My daughter, her out-of-law partner, and our four-year-old granddaughter are returning next weekend from traveling around the country and visiting other grandparents.
I will have to see if RG has been seduced into thinking more highly of other grandparents. It is in a grandparent’s job description that we are supposed to spoil grandchildren. On the other hand, my family has never been real big on spoiled children, so we only spoil RG a little tiny bit. She may consider the spoiling she got in Virginia and Colorado as much superior to Washington spoiling. If I get in a bad mood, though, she will chastize me.
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