Who is my neighbour

No question mark in my posting title: it's a statement. It could be what the Dalek said to his fellow warring wheely bins when asked who owned the strange blue "Police" box about the size of an average human male which had just pitched up next to him.

It is not good for man to be alone; even 900-year old time travellers need their companions on the journey. So why does neighbourliness in 21st century Britain so often appear to be regarded as a quaint phenomenon destined for the dustbin?

It should be the most natural thing in the world to want to know those who breathe the same air as us under the same sky during this all too brief sojourn we call life. Neighbours should indeed be there for one another, both in their troubles and their joys. Something in the human condition cries out for it and we are naturally social creatures.

It's a bizarre paradox then that in 21st century Britain, too many people get to know their neighbours in fiction rather than in person. EastEnders, getting the key to the Queen Vic at 21 this week, challenges Emmerdale and Corrie as the TV ratings hits week after week. And once student life has introduced you to the Neighbours of Ramsay Street, it's very hard to leave- as I've found getting back into the Aussie favourite after seven months working away from Erinsborough.

Why TV soaps should be such a hit is in some ways a mystery to me. You get the most unlikely hatches, matches and despatches and some of the most disreputable characters around prove to be the biggest hit. But maybe the scriptwriters are tuned into a truth which the writers of the Bible knew twenty centuries ago, before even the(fictional) Dr Who was a lad.

People love a good story and they love to meet intriguing characters within the story. We little understand ourselves, yet by another paradox we perhaps wipe a little of the mist from our vanity mirrors every time we get to know somebody else or help them in some practical way. Jesus used this to great effect not so much in paradox as parable, and perhaps one of the best known is that of the "good Samaritan", otherwise known as the "good neighbour".
I've had fun this week helping out a neighbour who's lived across the street for over thirty years. First I got asked to sort out a problem with her phones, while on Thursday I was challenged with some Latin proof-reading of a Christian message delivered before I was born. In return, my brother and I got a very tasty curry, and I found my mouth had more of a fireproof lining than I'd thought!

Thought of reward should never be our motivation for doing some kindly act and indeed it will never get you into heaven, even in a tardis. Love your neighbour, as you love yourself.