Be Excellent to each another

There’s a small moment from the other day that’s kind of stuck with me, and I’ve been turning it over in my head a bit.

I was outside the V&A in Dundee, about to go into the Catwalk exhibition, and I noticed this street sign that had clearly just been added onto a normal road sign. It had this tartan background and said, “Be excellent to one another.”

And I just immediately thought of Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure (the film). That whole, slightly ridiculous but also kind of profound line. And I remember thinking, yes—yeah, that’s it. That’s actually a pretty good way to live.

But then straight away it made me think of what Jesus says—the kind of summary of everything: love God with all your heart, mind and strength, and love your neighbour as yourself. The golden rule. It’s basically the same idea, just said a bit more seriously.

And again, I was like, yeah… that’s right. That’s what we should be doing.

Anyway.

Later that day, I’m driving through Strathkinness in Fife, and if you know the roads there, they’re not exactly forgiving. Narrow, cars parked on one side, the usual.

And there’s this elderly woman in her car, sort of pulled in—but not really. She’s basically taking up about three quarters of the road. And she’s waving me through. Like, really waving me through.

But there’s no space.

So I’m there trying to gesture back, like—there’s no room, I can’t get past. And she’s not getting it. She’s getting more frustrated, waving more, and I can feel myself getting more frustrated as well.

It turns into this weird back-and-forth where neither of us is quite understanding the other, and it’s just escalating in that very ordinary, very human way.

Eventually she tries to reverse closer to the kerb… which doesn’t really work. And in the end I kind of bump up onto the pavement a bit just to squeeze past.

And as I go by, I look at her—probably a bit annoyed, if I’m honest—and then that phrase just pops back into my head:

Be excellent to one another.

And I just laughed.

Because it’s so easy, isn’t it?

It’s easy when it’s a sign. It’s easy when it’s an idea. It’s easy when you’re standing outside a museum thinking about how the world should be.

It’s much harder when you’re in a car, slightly stressed, slightly confused, dealing with another human being who is also stressed and confused.

That’s where it actually matters.

And I think that’s the tension. We have these standards—love your neighbour, be kind, be patient, be excellent to one another—but we don’t actually reach them. Not consistently, anyway.

And I don’t think we’re meant to.

Because only God is perfect. We’re not. We’re human, we’re limited, we get things wrong all the time. We get frustrated over small things, we misunderstand people, we react instead of responding well.

But that doesn’t mean the standard is pointless.

If anything, it’s the opposite.

The fact that we can’t fully live up to it is kind of the point. It keeps us aware. It keeps us humble. It reminds us that we need grace—not just for other people, but for ourselves as well.

And maybe that’s where God actually works—in that gap. In the gap between who we are and who we’re trying to be. In the moments where we fail and recognise it, and something in us softens a bit.

There’s something important about even wanting to do good, even if we don’t always manage it. Not everyone is even aiming in that direction. And everyone’s at a different stage with it.

So maybe it’s less about getting it right all the time, and more about keeping that direction in mind.

Trying. Failing. Laughing at yourself a bit. And then trying again.

And maybe, every now and then, remembering a slightly cheesy line on a tartan sign… right at the moment you need it most.