I’m noticing an uptick in my empathy for others. I think there are numerous catalysts for this, but I sincerely believe that one of them is Mister Rogers. I recently rewatched the film, “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood,” and it was striking to see the way that Mister (Fred) Rogers influenced people from all different walks of life through his empathy.

He actively coached his viewers in how to recognize and manage their feelings on the television program itself. But even more than the on-air persona, I keep thinking about the way that the film depicts Mister Rogers interacting with people who were often disregarded by others. Jesus might have called such people the “least of these.” Mister Rogers would carefully observe and listen, and then he would regularly ask the “least of these” to pray for him. If others asked why he did this, he replied that he sincerely desired their intercession. He saw that a child who has lived with cerebral palsy or a man on his death bed must be very close to God — so who wouldn’t covet their prayers?!? He didn’t ask for prayer as a way to manipulate them or prop up their egos or make them feel seen. He just saw them and valued them and interacted with them as real humans. He prayed for them, too. But that empathy and appreciation for others is what made Mister Rogers truly special.

The film (starring Tom Hanks) was based on the 1998 Esquire article, “Can You Say… Hero?,” written by Tom Junod. It’s a really good article. Certainly more worth your time than this blog post. The piece captures the essence of Mister Rogers in some really creative ways, including unique and irreverent anecdotes from the journalist’s personal experiences interacting with Mister Rogers as well as adopting Mister Rogers’s tone in explaining key concepts throughout the article. Here’s an example from a scene when Mister Rogers visits New York City:

Then the car stopped on Thirty-fourth Street, in front of the escalators leading down to the station, and when the doors opened — “Holy shit! It’s Mister Fucking Rogers!” — he turned into Mister Fucking Rogers. This was not a bad thing, however, because he was in New York, and in New York it’s not an insult to be called Mister Fucking Anything. In fact, it’s an honorific. An honorific is what people call you when they respect you, and the moment Mister Rogers got out of the car, people wouldn’t stay the fuck away from him, they respected him so much.

There’s another excellent film, a documentary, called “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” And this film corroborates the idea that Mister Rogers was more than just a character on children’s television. The on-air personality overlapped heavily with the real-life person who thought deeply about things of great substance. He worked hard on processing his own emotions and making himself available to help others process theirs. In addition to being a television producer, he was a husband and father. He was a classically-trained pianist, a principled vegetarian, and an ordained minister. He was not perfect, but in all the various spaces he occupied, he led with empathy. And that makes him one of the most intriguing ambassadors of God’s grace that I can imagine. The Esquire article broaches this topic like this:

What is grace? He doesn’t even know. He can’t define it. This is a man who loves the simplifying force of definitions, and yet all he knows of grace is how he gets it; all he knows is that he gets it from God, through man. And so in Penn Station, where he was surrounded by men and women and children, he had this power, like a comic-book superhero who absorbs the energy of others until he bursts out of his shirt.

I hope to keep growing in the art of empathy. It’s not as effortless as Mister Rogers often made it seem to be. But I hope that the Holy Spirit — and the spirit of Mister Rogers — will guide me.