As good stewards of the manifold grace of God, each of you should use whatever gift he has received to serve one another.
Two doors down, perhaps, a man wheels his bins out on the same evening you do, and over the years the two of you have settled into a polite nod. You know his car and the creak of his gate, but you have never learned his name. Underneath the nod sits a quiet verdict: being neighbourly is for friendlier people than me.