So Who Is My Neighbor?

Perhaps it is that I am preaching about our neighbors this week that prompted greater sensitivity on Friday as I flew from Midway to Manchester.  I way paying attention as people boarded the plane after I had taken my seat.  I sat by a window, near the back galley, reading a book about India in preparation for my upcoming trip, when the flight attendant asked for someone to move.  My preferred airline does not have assigned seats, so the center spots are the last to go.  Some center seats were open when a man with his five-and-a-half year old son boarded.  They made their way all the way to the back, but found no seats where they could sit together.  So, the crew called for someone who would move--promising extra peanuts and some imaginary awards.  At first, no one budged.  We liked where we were sitting.  After about a minute, which must have seemed an eternity to the man and his little boy, a woman in the row in front of me said, "I'll switch."  The little family took the two adjacent seats, while the woman moved herself and her over-sized duffel bag into the middle seat next to me.

The plane took off.  Everyone broke out a book and began to read.  It was only as the plane landed in Manchester that a conversation occurred.  The woman was on her way to Connecticut for her 47th high school class reunion.  (The organizer had decided not to wait for the 50th year reunion because too many classmates were dying!)  The woman was from Missouri now, having grown up in New England many years ago.  She spoke of her little farm, where she had horses.  I mentioned that I was originally from Missouri--California, Missouri most recently.  The woman replied that she always liked that area and had purchased two Peruvian horses from a man there.  Immediately, I realized that she was talking about Will, my former neighbor who raised the only Peruvian horses in the area.  The horses often came up to our back fence to visit.  I was reminded of the time when Will kept our little cattle herd secure when they broke through the rotten woven wire fence.  The week of building a new fence with Will was a good one for me. The woman and I talked about Will and his wife, Barbara, for some moments.  The world got a whole lot smaller.

When I got off the plane, there in the boarding area was John, a former search committee chairperson, with whom I had worked as his congregation had searched for a new pastor.  We recognized one another right away.  John and I exchanged greetings, and we blessed one another on our way.  The world got a whole lot smaller.

Who is my neighbor?  The ones who risk a conversation that makes a connection.  The world gets a whole lot smaller when we take that initial step to acknowledge and speak to our neighbors.  Sometimes there is a cost in such encounters (Luke 10:25ff); but often such connections simply make the world smaller . . . and we are all blessed on our way.