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Recently, in the United Kingdom, they have been re-showing, from the very beginning, the long-running Australian TV soap opera Neighbours.

The trailers for its revival brought back some very happy memories for me: when it was first shown back in the 1980s, our children were young – indeed, my youngest was not yet born, and when he did arrive, he would pause in his late-afternoon whinging session whenever the Neighbours theme filled the living room – yet more evidence that the pre-born child can recognise not only their mother’s voice but even signature tunes on the telly!

At a time when TV is facing stiff competition from the internet, it might be hoped that the ‘soaps’ would try to be more upbeat, not more depressing; but many viewers feel that as a genre they have descended into darkness, death, demoralisation and – despite the cleansing connotations of their cognomen – dirt.

The degeneration of what used to be stories about everyday people doing everyday things could be seen as yet another sign of left-liberal progressive influence on the ‘entertainment’ industry, in which certain ‘ishoos’ – like unemployment, marital infidelity, relationship break-ups, emotional crises and blazing rows – so beloved of those who do not encounter them on a daily basis, are somewhat less appealing to those that do. The latter, like most normal people, prefer slightly more upbeat viewing, rather than a dreary recapitulation of all the worst aspects of their daily lives or the lives of their social circle.

Where Have All the Neighbours Gone?

In contrast, Neighbours is a breath of fresh air. While not without its serious side, it always seemed to resist competing with other soaps in the ‘misery stakes’, thus managing to stay as realistic as a TV depiction of real life can ever hope to be.

And the re-runs have acted as yet another reminder – of the days when neighbours were really neighbourly. When our children were young, we could always rely on a neighbour to babysit when needed, help in an emergency – or at any other time – as well as keeping an eye on the house whenever we were away.

The neighbours I remember from my own youth were just as good, or even better. I especially remember in the late 1950s when my younger brother was born, that when our mother was in hospital (for the then customary fortnight), we went to a different neighbour every day for our tea, while awaiting our father’s return from work.

In those days, people did not feel the need to transform their homes into mini fortresses with multiple security measures; back then, many did not even bother to lock their doors. Children could walk on their own to school; we would even go through the forest by ourselves for a ‘picnic’ – just a handful of sweets, but they tasted even better in the fresh air.

Neighbourhood celebrations are an especially cherished memory for me. In fact, I made my first appearance on camera even before I was born – at a street party to celebrate Queen Elizabeth II’s Coronation in 1953. My mother, quite clearly ‘expecting’, was photographed with all the neighbours helping the local children to enjoy their sandwiches, cake and lemonade in an open-air picnic. It is not often that I have been that late to a party!

Although street parties are not completely a thing of the past, on the occasion of the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee in 2012, we had to go a bit further afield to find one.

Notably, back in those ‘Coronation’ days, most families were not ‘broken’. Children were a normal part of family life, whereas now they tend to be regarded as a private hobby for those who can ‘afford’ them, while among the rest, the avoidance of their births is equated with the prevention of some loathsome and possibly infectious disease.

Connected Yet Alone

Today, despite the progressive emphasis on a multiplicity of ‘communities’, there is less community feeling than ever before. If not for this progressive policy of ‘divide and rule’, our own times might be just as neighbourly as in the past, when we were encouraged to prize what we had in common rather than dwelling on our differences.

But architecture also plays an important part. Having moved to a much more ‘respectable’ but rather less neighbourly area, we noticed the difference between our old houses – narrow, terraced affairs – and ‘bungalowland’, where our semi-detached dwellings are situated far apart. Even worse, our ‘front door’ is at the side; consequently, there are fewer opportunities to get to know one’s neighbours.

This is a particular problem for those who do not manage to get out very much – the very people who would find it most beneficial to interact with those living close by.

It is surely ironic that at a time when we are said to be more ‘connected’ than ever via our mobile phones, there seem to be fewer opportunities to actually meet people. Similarly, although many of us also have cars, thus enabling us to ‘see the world’, we are less likely to see our next-door neighbour.

Back in the ‘olden days’, before many people had telephones, making a phone call required a trip to the post office – or in an emergency, a neighbour’s house. In those far-off days, we had neither car nor phone, but our next-door neighbours, as well as letting us use their phone on occasion, would take us for day-long car outings. They managed to cram in the whole family, with my toddler-self sitting on somebody’s lap in the front. Needless to say, those were also the days before seatbelts and ‘health and safety’.

Of course, not all neighbours were nice – in our time, we have known one or two with distinct anti-social tendencies; there will always be those who neglect the niceties of their neighbourhood.

Loving the Neighbour We’re Given

However, as Christians, we are told to love our neighbours. In response to the question, ‘Who is my neighbour?’ Jesus told the parable of the Good Samaritan, in which the despised foreigner turns out to be ‘good’ – indeed, somewhat more neighbourly than the priest and the Levite, who might have been supposed to show charity to an injured man.

As G. K. Chesterton remarked, ‘The Bible tells us to love our neighbours, and also to love our enemies; probably because generally they are the same people.’

We can see a reflection of this in families, where the children who are closest in age may not always be the closest of friends. And it is interesting that this also holds true of countries, which tend to form alliances not always with their closest neighbours, but with the ones a bit further away – the ones at a safe distance.

This helps to explain the existence of national borders, although the modern globalist would claim that, far from acting as a protection, it is borders that are the problem – that all that is needed for world peace and harmony is to do away with these artificial barriers, thus enabling us to be even closer to neighbouring nations.

Fortunately, God knows better than the globalists, for it is not mere proximity that produces neighbourliness, but an act of will.

Whether at a personal, family, national or international level, we are required to love our neighbour, however troublesome; and the fact that God had to command us to do so suggests that this does not come any more naturally than loving our enemy.

As that famous theme tune once again reminds us, it is true that ‘good neighbours’ can become ‘good friends’; but the Bible teaches that it is best to be a good neighbour – and a good friend.