In Won’t You Be My Neighbor, the documentary about Mister Rogers, there’s a point where it’s revealed he was a lifelong member of a particular political party. It was jarring. Not his party affiliation but the fact that, until that moment, it had never occurred to me Mister Rogers voted, much less belonged to one party or another. He was simply the man who talked to me, and years later my own children, with such gentle respect. He was kindness personified.

He could say something on his show. Anything.

Later, in a home with a blue sign in the yard, a child might go to their parents and tell them, “Mister Rogers said…” Those parents would nod and say, “Yes. That’s true. You can trust Mister Rogers and so can we.”

Meanwhile, in a home with a red sign in the yard, a different child might go to their parents after hearing the exact same message and tell them, “Mister Rogers said…” Those parents would also nod and say, “Yes. That’s true. You can trust Mister Rogers and so can we.”

No small accomplishment. It’s not as if Mister Rogers shied away from challenging topics. He helped children and families find ways to talk about death, divorce, racial struggle. He even came out of retirement to help children and families work through what we witnessed on 9/11.

His message was always emotionally honest, thoughtful, and true to the essence of our shared humanity. How lovely.

Like so many other children’s ministers, I feel confident following Mister Rogers’ example. And, as an ordained Presbyterian minister himself, I’ve got a pretty good idea whose example Mister Rogers was following.

Mister Mark