Let me start with a simple question. How many of you know the names of the people who live directly next door to you? Not just what they look like… but their names. Now—how many of you know something about their lives? What they do, what they care about, what’s going on with them? Here’s what’s interesting. We live closer to people than ever before. Our homes are packed into neighborhoods, apartment complexes, subdivisions… we’re surrounded by people. And yet, many of us feel more disconnected than ever. At the same time, a lot of people want to make a difference. We want to help, to contribute, to do something meaningful. So we often think: ‘I need to go somewhere. I need to sign up for something. I need to add something to my schedule.’ But what if the most meaningful, lasting way to make an impact… isn’t somewhere else? What if it’s right outside your front door?” CORE IDEA I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this idea, and I wrote a book called Neighborhood Missio...

Who is the best neighbor in literature? And perhaps more urgently: what do we owe the people who live closest to us? Most of us don’t get to choose our neighbors any more than we choose our relatives, and yet they occupy a unique moral and psychological space in our lives. They are close enough to inconvenience, annoy, insult, and occasionally wound us — and close enough to surprise us with unexpected kindness. Does proximity create responsibility? That question sits at the heart of my novel A Gracious Neighbor . Its protagonist, Martha Hale, is a friendly but socially clumsy wife and mother in a manicured, affluent neighborhood. Isolated by her failed attempts to integrate into the local social ecosystem, Martha becomes enthralled when the glamorous Minnie Foster — once a classmate — moves in next door. Martha’s eagerness to rekindle a teenage connection spirals into a fixation that she convinces herself is benevolence. Her attempts to defend Minnie’s reputation are well-intentioned, ...

  For much of human history, relationships were shaped by proximity. Neighbors were not just people who lived nearby—they were allies, trading partners, babysitters, emergency helpers, and lifelong friends.  In today’s world, however, relationships based on proximity have steadily been replaced by those based on affinity. We now form friendships primarily through hobbies, professional networks, or online communities of shared interests.  While affinity-based connections can be meaningful, this shift comes with a serious cost: we are neglecting those who live next door. One of the primary problems with this trend is the loss of local trust and mutual support. In the past, neighbors often looked out for one another, whether by sharing tools, watching children, or checking in during crises.  When relationships are chosen solely through affinity, neighbors become strangers. This weakens the “social safety net” closest to home, leaving individuals more vulnerable during ...

In a world where moral ideals are often universalized, the concept of “loving your neighbor” can lose its practical edge. We say “everyone is my neighbor” and feel that this satisfies the command to love others. But what if that’s actually a loophole—a way to diffuse responsibility so broadly that we never have to act meaningfully? What if the point of the command is not abstraction, but proximity? What if it’s not about loving humanity in general, but about loving the people who share your fence, your street, or your apartment wall?   There’s something unsettling about how easily we substitute vague goodwill for concrete action. Loving “everyone” is noble in theory, but impossible in practice. No one can engage deeply with all 8 billion people on the planet. That’s not a moral goal—it’s an escape hatch. By saying everyone is our neighbor, we sometimes give ourselves permission to love no one in particular. We avoid the awkwardness of knocking on a door. We sidestep the effort of l...

In recent years, there has been a marked increase in cultural, scholarly, and civic attention to the importance of neighbors and neighborhoods. From bestselling books and academic research to grassroots movements and urban policy shifts, more people are turning their gaze inward—toward the hyper-local. This renewed focus on the spaces and relationships closest to home reflects profound shifts in society’s values, priorities, and realities. In this blog post I attempt to explore the drivers behind this trend and argue that a renewed investment in neighbors and neighborhoods offers a path toward more resilient, connected, and equitable communities. The Context: Why the Local Now? The move toward hyper-local engagement can be traced to several interlocking developments. 1. Global Uncertainty and Instability The first two decades of the 21st century have been marked by global turbulence—wars, climate change, pandemics, and economic volatility. These large-scale forces often feel overwhelmi...