loving the neighbor

As I checked for damage on my car, my neighbor came up and asked if I was okay. I said “yes” and then asked if he by chance knew what I had just hit. All I heard was a loud thump and it was really dark.

He sighed deeply, looked at the ground for several seconds, and then forced out the words: “My dog.”

An image of my dog, Samantha, flashed through my mind. Sam was in the house, safe and sound, but his dog was dead in the middle of the street.

“I am sooo sorry.”

Still looking at the ground, he said some of the most beautiful words I have ever heard. Words that still mean a lot to me.

“That’s okay—you were just driving.”

Translated, it’s not my fault. Even though I killed his dog, he knew it was dark and I didn’t mean it. He didn’t say it, but I interpreted his response as forgiving me for the horrible thing I had just done.

I kept talking for a minute or so. Not sure what I said, other than offering several more apologies.

Overcome with grief, the man never said another word. Finally, knowing I was okay, he turned and walked away. Now he had the grisly task of taking care of the remains of his beloved pet.

I will never forget that night. Ever. And there are so many reasons why.

First, my stomach tightens up at how painful it is to lose a long-time pet. Even though that accident happened a few years ago, if my neighbor’s like me, remembering that evening no doubt still hurts.

Second, it amazes me—amazes me—that the man witnessed the death of his dog, but immediately came over to check to see how I was doing. Despite being overcome with grief, he came to check on the person who just killed his dog. Wow.

Third, he forgave me. He knew it was dark and I didn’t intend to do it, and he made sure I knew there were no hard feelings. Perhaps he somehow knew that if he hadn’t said those words—“That’s okay—you were just driving”—I’d still be beating myself up.

As I reflect on my neighbor’s incredibly gracious reaction, I can’t help but think of something Jesus said.

“Love your neighbor as yourself.”1

Now I know what Jesus meant. I’ve seen it an action.

My neighbor, whom I barely know, loved me that night. Despite being heart-broken over the death of his dog, he was concerned about my health. Not only that, he made a point of letting me know he didn’t blame me. He forgave me.

So that’s what loving your neighbor looks like.

He paid a big price to teach me a lesson in how to treat other people. Because of that, I’m determined to be more like my neighbor in my life.

Will you join me?

 “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

1  Matthew 22:39

love

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”1

It was the best Christmas ever—my family was amazed and felt loved as never before due to my lavish gift-giving. It was also the worst Christmas ever—they discovered I had stolen money from them in order to afford such nice things.

Yeah, that’s right, I stole money from family members so I could buy them some really cool stuff. Made sense to me at the time. Was I generous? Kind of depends on how you look at it. 

One thing seems certain, however: As a teenager I was a lowlife and a thief.

That memory still makes me cringe. I mean, not only is stealing wrong, but stealing from family? I’d be willing to bet that most thieves wouldn’t think about robbing those they love. Others, sure. But family, no way.

Common sense tells us we shouldn’t steal, and especially from family. Not surprisingly, Scripture also tells us we shouldn’t steal from each other. We are, of course, called to love one another, family and non-family.

“Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.”2

The Greek word translated as “love” has nothing to do with emotions or feelings. Instead, the word is a verb. That is, we are to consciously and deliberately love one another. We are to consciously and deliberately express our love for others in practical and concrete ways.

For example, it’s not good enough not to steal from them. We’re called, as children of God, to meet the needs of others and consider them more important than us.3 And that includes both family and total strangers. That’s biblical love.

So, does that describe you? Would family describe you as loving? More than that, would total strangers describe you as loving? Remember, the kind of love we’re talking about has nothing to do with emotions or feelings. This kind of love is consciously and deliberately expressing our love for others in practical and concrete ways.

Again, does this describe you? Me neither.

Let’s agree—just between the two of us—that we don’t pull this off, at least as consistently as we should. I have some ideas on what I’m going to do, but how about you?

And remember, it’s not good enough not to steal from them. We’re called, as children of God, to meet the needs of others and consider them more important than us. And that includes both family and total strangers. That’s biblical love.

“If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen. And he has given us this command: Whoever loves God must also love his brother.”4

1  Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

2  1 John 4:7-8

3  Matthew 22:39 & Philippians 2:3

4  1 John 4:20-21