The Theology of Mister Rogers: Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

Luke 9:41-56; Luke 10:25-37

There are very few people known by name alone. Some are known for the good they’ve done, others for crimes against humanity. Some are remembered for their talent and others for an invention. But almost in a category by himself is Mr. Rogers. He was on television for almost 35 years, from 1968 to 2001, on a PBS program called Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, yet he was anything but a television star. He was parodied and even ridiculed for his simple, some might say simplistic, approach of talking to children with no special effects to speak of except for a few hand puppets he designed and voiced, and a little toy trolley running through the neighborhood of Make Believe. The opening to every show was the same. Mr. Rogers walked through a door into a living room, dressed in a suit as if coming home from work, and singing “It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood.” Still singing, he opened a closet door, hung up his suit jacket, and took out a sweater. He put on the sweater, sat down, and changed shoes, tossing one from one hand to the other. The song ended with the words, “Won’t you be my neighbor?” Fred Rogers was more than the host of a children’s television program. He graduated from a college in Florida with a degree in music composition and put that degree to use, composing some 200 songs he and others sang in his shows. He planned the episodes and wrote, or improvised, much of the dialogue. In 1962, Rogers graduated from Pittsburgh Theological Seminary with a divinity degree and a year later was ordained a Presbyterian minister charged with a ministry to children. He was faithful to his calling until his death in 2003. 

When we think about the word “neighbor” in the context of the Bible, I suspect many of us think of the parable of the Good Samaritan. In Luke 10:25, an expert in Jewish law came to test Jesus, asking how to inherit eternal life. This legal expert knew the book of Leviticus said, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” The verses before Leviticus 19:18 speak of leaving food for the poor and the foreign traveler, speak against dealing falsely with or cheating others, condemn acting unjustly toward others, and command that the deaf and blind be treated the same as a person who is rich or powerful. When Jesus affirmed the law as written in the Torah, the scholar came at Jesus with a more basic question: “Who is my neighbor?” This led Jesus to tell a story in which a Samaritan, a person hated by Jews simply for who he was and who likewise would’ve hated Jews as a people, stopped by the roadside to help a presumably Jewish man who had been robbed, beaten, and left to die. In the story, the Samaritan was not the first to see the man in need, but he was the only one to stop and help. The biblical lawyer admitted that the neighbor was the one who showed mercy to and cared for the man in need. But there’s a little twist to this story.

Too often, when we read the Bible, we read a few verses in isolation and look for meaning. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that, but oftentimes it gives us an incomplete picture. The Bible was not written with chapters and verses like we see it today. Luke’s Gospel, originally, was one continuous story, and to get to a complete understanding of the parable we need to look to Luke 9, to the verses Jim read for us. Jesus and his disciples were on their way to Jerusalem from Jericho, traveling the same road as the man who was robbed in Jesus’s parable. They entered a Samaritan village, but when the Samaritans saw who they were and where they were going, they refused to allow Jesus and the disciples to stay in their village. They denied them basic hospitality … and were not, we might say, very neighborly. James and John, two of the disciples, asked Jesus if they should call down fire from heaven to consume the village and all the people in it. Jesus rebuked them for their thought and said let’s just move on to another village. So why, a short time later, in the presence of his disciples, does Jesus make a Samaritan the hero of his parable? I wonder if it’s precisely because, under those same circumstances, they wouldn’t … and we wouldn’t either.

I don’t know about you, but when someone hurts me or hurts someone close to me, I don’t naturally want to sing a little song inviting them to be my neighbor. I’m far more likely to agree with James and John. Thankfully I don’t have the power to call down fire from heaven to consume people, because there are times in my life when I would’ve been sorely tempted to use that power. And don’t pretend you’ve never been tempted. Then I’m reminded of other words Jesus said, like, “You have heard it said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, ‘Love your enemies and pray for those who curse you.’” Sigh.

The word neighbor is found 145 times in the Bible. For most of us, our definition of a neighbor is either someone who looks like us and shares our cultural values and beliefs or someone who literally lives next to us. But Scripture takes the definition of “neighbor” much deeper. At first, the definition is often “one of your people” as opposed to one of “those” people, but then, as time passes, it includes the foreigner, the hired help, the poor, the sick, the widow, the unclean, the slave … and even the enemy. Who is our neighbor? Everyone. Anyone. The greatest among us, the least among us. People we don’t especially like. People who don’t especially like us. Another sigh.

But there’s a second question addressed in the parable. It’s not just, “Who is my neighbor?” it’s “Am I being a neighbor?” Jesus ended his story by telling the Jewish scholar to “Go and do likewise.” Go and be like the Samaritan. The story of the Good Samaritan is a call to compassion and to action. We are not just supposed to read the story and agree that the Samaritan was the neighbor, that’s obvious … we are to go and do likewise. It’s important to go back to Luke 10:25 and remember the question that began the story: “’Teacher,’ the lawyer asked. ‘What must I do to inherit eternal life?’’ When Jesus tells the man to love God and love his neighbor, Jesus says to him, “Do this, and you will live.” The answer to the question is not academic or theoretical, it’s of eternal importance. It seems that how we love ties into how we live.  

During my sermon preparation, I read a quote from a pastor who said, “The Good Samaritan story is not just an example of compassionate spirituality. It is a critique against religious passivity. If church people won’t work for justice and mercy, won’t love others, God will find some other people who will.” In Jesus’s parable, there are two men who don’t help … and both are good church people. The first is a priest, a pastor. The second is a Levite, a church and worship leader. Each noticed the injured man and not only ignored him; they crossed over to the other side of the road to get away from him. Neither caused injury, but each refused to see the man in his pain. How often do we see others in pain and look away? How often do we tell ourselves someone else will help? How often do we hope the problem will just go away? But that isn’t how it works. 

But what, as individuals and as a church, can we do when the problems are so big? Beyond the obvious, that is, stopping and helping people who are in need, here are a few small things we can do I learned from Mr. Rogers and the Bible. Stop using words like “us” and “them.” Dividing people into categories based on race, gender, political affiliation, social status, sexual orientation, nationality, and the myriad of other ways we define ourselves is wrong. Even if it's uncomfortable, when you hear such words, speak up. Don’t walk by. We are all imperfect, sinful, and yet wonderfully made children of God. We are all neighbors. Second, care for others, even someone you don’t know, by praying for them. Consider reading or listening to the news … then pick out a name or two and pray for them. For me this week, there were two. One involved a ten-year-old girl who was shot on the west side of Indianapolis. I don’t know her name or anything about her except that she is recovering at Riley Hospital, but I pray for her and for her family. The second involves the 25-year-old teacher in Virginia shot by a 6-year-old student. I pray for the recovery of the teacher, and I pray for the 6-year-old boy. I pray for healing, and I pray that they, and their families, come to know the love that God has for them. Be intentional about adding to your prayer list a person you don’t know. God knows there are thousands to choose from. Two men were executed in Iran yesterday … look up their names and pray for their families. Women in Afghanistan are speaking out against the Taliban; find a name and pray for her. Seek out the name of someone who is very much not like you … the oppressed, the poor, the marginalized, the hurting … and every day for a week or for as long as you feel led, pray for that person you don’t know, share little with, and will never meet. Don’t judge, just pray. And remember to thank God for how blessed you are. Finally, when you see someone in a grocery store or restaurant or wherever you are, consider saying hello to a stranger, smiling, wishing them a good day, and perhaps even sharing that God loves them. Not long ago I was in a restaurant and about to pray before eating when the waitress came up. Usually I pray silently and quickly, but this time I told her I was about to pray and asked if I could include her in my prayer. Based on her response, I need to do that more often.     

Over the course of almost 900 television episodes, Mr. Rogers invited numerous guests to his show to be his neighbors, but one of the most memorable was a man, a black man, by the name of Francois Clemmons. Clemmons had a recurring role in Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood as Officer Clemmons, but two episodes stand out. On May 9, 1969, Mr. Rogers took off his shoes and his socks, and then sat down by a kid’s wading pool and put his feet in the water. Officer Clemmons entered, and Mr. Rogers invited him to take off his shoes and join him. In 1969, a white man and a black man sitting next to one another, feet in the same pool, was unheard of. Over twenty years later, on February 24, 1993, in his final appearance as Officer Clemmons, the two men recreated the pool scene. Fred Rogers didn’t mention God or the Good Samaritan or speak about racial equality, but I’m sure he expected his audience of young children to get the point. But there’s a small thing that happens in each episode that if you know your Bible screams out that the pastor is preaching. In the 1969 episode, while holding the water hose filling the little pool, Mr. Rogers washes the feet of Mr. Clemmons. In the 1993 episode, when it is time for Mr. Clemmons to leave, Mr. Rogers doesn’t just hand him a towel. He keeps hold of the towel and helps Mr. Clemmons dry his feet. Without saying a word, Mr. Rogers preached a sermon taken directly from John 13, where Jesus washes the feet of his disciples and in so doing sets an example for them as to how they are to serve others. 

 “Let’s make the most of this beautiful day, since we’re together we might as well say, won’t you be my neighbor?” Go and do likewise. Amen.