Fred Rogers with the Neighborhood Trolley

At a time when so much of life has been ceded to the ideological and the utilitarian, the Fred Rogers Institute is an oasis. Devoted to preserving and promoting the legacy of the man known affectionately as Mister Rogers, the institute bears all the marks of what Fred and his long-running television program Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood stood for: love and genuine respect for persons, serious devotion to play and other humane endeavors, protection and care for children and the vulnerable.

I’ve had the privilege of visiting Latrobe three times now, and each trip was an unmitigated joy.[1] Most recently last summer, I participated in a conference honoring this unassuming and universally beloved children’s television host.[2] It’s been over twenty years since Fred’s death, and the conference was intended as a space to take seriously the ideas he left behind and to consider their continued influence and relevance.

When I shared my plans with friends and colleagues, I was met with more than a few chuckles. It’s unsurprising, I suppose, that Fred’s cherished status as friend to children everywhere is an uneasy fit with our understanding of meaningful scholarship. Cardigans, sneakers, and puppets don’t bespeak intellectual heavyweight.

It’s true that Fred’s ideas are in no way complex. Even still, they are profound. In a world quick to discard those on the margins, to drain life of the sacred, to commodify and diminish the humanity of others, the legacy Fred offers is thoroughly countercultural. I was reminded as much while writing my paper and reflecting on Fred’s life and work.[3] Although Fred is most often associated with children’s television, he has as much if not more to offer adults, especially those of us concerned with cultural renewal. Given how his faith shaped his ministry, Fred stands in word and deed as a model for Christian apologists.

A Heart of Service

As a Presbyterian minister ordained for ministry in television, Fred centered his life and vocation on Jesus’ command to love God and love one’s neighbor.[4] Fred affirmed and practiced that ethic in all he did, seeing his calling as cultivating a neighborhood in which all are welcomed and treasured. Kindhearted and soft-spoken as Fred was, he is easy to underestimate and underappreciate.[5] Consider, however, that Fred worked in the often cutthroat world of television. To remain tender in that environment required nothing less than fierce tenacity and an uncompromising commitment to the right, one that undoubtedly came at a great cost to himself.

When Fred first encountered the emerging technology of television, he was struck simultaneously by its promise and peril. Here was a medium that could reach people across the socioeconomic spectrum, one that could create a community structured around a holistic experience of music, imagination, and instruction. But here, too, were television personalities degrading themselves and others, pandering to the audience, and appealing to their basest emotions.[6] His show intentionally resisted that trend. He carefully crafted each episode with input from his mentor and child psychologist Margaret McFarland and resisted meddling from TV executives who saw the show’s popularity as means for financial gain.

In fact, when NBC sought to introduce advertisements into Fred’s weekly show, he was quick to end the contract. Where most television programs sought to get something from their audience, Fred was always and only concerned about what he could offer his. This intentionality and commitment to his convictions provides a powerful testimony for Christians devoted to the public good. Ego and wrong motives can easily creep in and undermine whatever good intentions we began with, even—ironically enough—into our proclamation of the gospel and our apologetic ministry. The guardrails that Fred put in place and the tenacity with which he pursued his vision are inspiring and instructive in our own pursuit of goodness.

Empowering Others

These firm convictions kept Fred on mission, which for him meant helping his young viewers navigate a world that didn’t much accommodate their vulnerabilities or sensitivities. It’s easy to forget that Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood first aired in 1968, a year infamous for its volatility. Fred’s calm manner and the controlled atmosphere of his show were an intentional response to the otherwise dominant political and social chaos, aimed at guiding children through complex emotions that inevitably arise. The value of this approach shines powerfully in an early episode, where Fred helped children and parents alike navigate the challenges raised by Bobby Kennedy’s assassination.

This bent toward empowerment is most clear in Fred’s visit with 10-year-old Jeffrey Erlanger, who suffered a spinal tumor early in life and relied on an electric wheelchair for mobility. Fred’s gifts are on full display in this exchange, as the host honors Jeffrey and invites him to share his story with viewers. There is no hint of patronizing or condescension. Rather, Fred uses his social clout to elevate Jeffrey, recognizing as valuable his experience and providing him a platform from which to educate others about disabilities and assistive technologies like his chair. The beauty of this encounter is that it is neither staged nor contrived.

Fred genuinely saw Jeffrey as an expert, having much to offer. Fred kept in view that the children with whom he interacted were themselves made in the image of God, and his ministry was indelibly shaped by that principle. Yes, Fred was the authority figure,[7] with more experience in the world and more knowledge to impart to his viewers. But he recognized that he had no monopoly on the work of the Spirit. That’s what led Fred to sometimes ask those in difficult straits to pray for him, such as with a 14-year-old-boy whose cerebral palsy had nearly debilitated him.[8] Fred’s posture reminds us that ministry often goes both ways. The dividing line between teacher and student is fuzzy on occasion, and we must be open to the movement of God, whatever its chosen vessel.

Acts of Gratitude

Most often such grace comes through community, something Fred never took for granted. In many a speech, Fred would end with a moment of silence, challenging his audience to reflect on all those who had invested in them. We would not be here otherwise he reminds graduates in his 2002 commencement address at Dartmouth:

Anyone who has ever graduated from a college, anyone who has ever been able to sustain a good work, has had at least one person and often many who have believed in him or her. We just don’t get to be competent human beings without a lot of different investments from others.[9]

It's counterintuitive that Fred would close a graduation speech by shifting focus to supporters of the graduates rather than on the honorees themselves. It was their accomplishment, after all. But Fred’s ingenious move undercuts the false dichotomy. We all owe a debt to others. We rise or fall together.

Fred’s call to gratitude punctures pretensions and lays bare any manufactured self-importance, reminding us of our shared humanity. In a memorable scene, journalist Tom Junod powerfully describes Fred’s effect on the audience at the Emmys when he accepted his Lifetime Achievement Award. Even the most jaded and seemingly untouchable among us are no match for Fred’s lovingkindness:

[T]here, in front of all the soap-opera stars and talk-show sinceratrons, in front of all the jutting man-tanned jaws and jutting saltwater bosoms, he made his small bow and said into the microphone, “All of us have special ones who have loved us into being. Would you just take, along with me, ten seconds to think of the people who have helped you become who you are.... Ten seconds of silence.” And then he lifted his wrist, and looked at the audience, and looked at his watch, and said softly, “I’ll watch the time,” and there was, at first, a small whoop from the crowd, a giddy, strangled hiccup of laughter, as people realized that he wasn't kidding, that Mister Rogers was not some convenient eunuch but rather a man, an authority figure who actually expected them to do what he asked ... and so they did. One second, two seconds, three seconds ... and now the jaws clenched, and the bosoms heaved, and the mascara ran, and the tears fell upon the beglittered gathering like rain leaking down a crystal chandelier, and Mister Rogers finally looked up from his watch and said, “May God be with you” to all his vanquished children.[10]

Fred has left us quite the legacy, if we but have eyes to see. He embodies a moral apologetic, one that intentionally and consistently pushes back against the spirit of the age. His life testifies that these seemingly simple and often-underestimated virtues can indeed upend our confused contemporary value system and in turn restore our communities. They cannot do it on their own, however. These virtues need champions. We must take up the mantle that Fred Rogers passed on to ensure a beautiful day in each and all of our neighborhoods.

[1] Two prior visits to Latrobe were so that my philosopher husband could spend time in the Fred Rogers archives, researching for a book he has designs on writing. I’m holding out hope that I can get in on that deal.

[2] 2023 was the conference’s inaugural year. The Institute plans to run it again next year: https://www.fredrogersinstitute.org/the-work-of-fred-rogers-a-conference-on-his-context-and-legacy.

[3] My paper puts Fred Rogers in conversation with Neil Postman, considering why and how Fred used television despite the recognition he shared with Postman of the cultural dangers it poses. The paper is currently available at this link, at least until I find a new home for it.

[4] Fred Rogers does tend more progressive in his theology, particularly on questions of sexuality, but that should not hinder conservative Christians from taking heed of what he gets very right about dignity and human value. CBN reporter Amy Hollingsworth’s The Simple Faith of Mister Rogers is a beautiful book on her friendship with Fred that argues just this.

[5] After the release of Morgan Neville’s 2018 documentary on Fred Rogers, Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, I became captivated by Fred Rogers’ life and work. The more I learn about him, the more admirable I find him. I wrote this piece at that time, reflecting on how he has inspired me: https://www.moralapologetics.com/wordpress/2018/7/13/the-faithful-witness-of-fred-rogers.

[6] Maxwell King’s wonderful biography of Rogers covers this episode extensively, especially in Part II. Maxwell King, The Good Neighbor: The Life and Work of Fred Rogers (New York: Abrams Press, 2018).

[7] Fred insisted on using the title “Mister” to maintain that air of authority. Not for self-aggrandizement but instead to maintain an atmosphere of calm and stability, as noted in a previous paragraph.

[8] Tom Junod recounts this meeting in his excellent profile of Fred for Esquire: Tom Junod, “Can You Say ... Hero?” Esquire, November 1998, 132-138.

[9] Fred’s commencement address at Dartmouth was the last he gave, as he died in January of 2003. You can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=907yEkALaAY. And the transcript here: https://www.rev.com/blog/transcripts/fred-rogers-mr-rogers-commencement-speech-transcript-2002-at-dartmouth-college.

[10] Junod, “Can You Say … Hero?” See endnote 8 above.