In Luke 10, the Law is summed up in two commands: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, “Love your neighbor as yourself.’” An expert of the law, wishing to “justify himself,” then asks the Lord, “And who is my neighbor?”
Jesus responds with the parable of the Good Samaritan, calling the followers of God to show mercy to any vulnerable persons we encounter. We must make ourselves neighbors to those in need by seeing and loving them.
We must make ourselves neighbors to those in need by seeing and loving them.
Matthew 25 raises the stakes of this call to love our neighbor. Jesus describes the final judgement as a division between those who were neighbors to the vulnerable and those who passed them by, declaring that “as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.”
Are Christians in America answering this eternally consequential call to love our neighbors, and in doing so, loving Christ himself?
Chasing the American Dream means striving for houses with porches, white picket fences, manicured lawns, and family cars. Each piece of “the good life” relies on one key factor: good neighbors. The ideal American neighbor gives a friendly wave from the porch next door, enters through the picket fence to deliver baked goods or borrow the occasional egg, and picks up after their dog. If the neighbors need too many favors or are too loud, however, you are rudely awakened from your dream.
Even when you exit the neighborhood, the American Dream expects a peaceful commute where any potential neighbors are separated by two panes of glass and only occasionally communicate through gesture or horn. When you arrive at your stable job, you might make small talk on the elevator or on your way to your office, but when you sit down at your desk, you hope that no coworkers will intrude to converse outside of the appropriate times. Nowadays, perhaps the ideal job may only require online interactions where potential neighbors appear merely as users on your screen.
I say all that to illustrate a core American ideal that millions of Christians have widely accepted: we value neighbors that are easy to love so we can live independently. When we look for housing or employment, we choose to surround ourselves with people who will not require much from us. And when we choose to put ourselves in taxing situations, we do so on our own terms: donating to charities of our choice, volunteering once a month, or going on mission trips.
Living the American Dream allows us to justify ourselves as the teacher of the law wished to in Luke 10 with the question “And who is my neighbor?” If we only surround ourselves with people who require little from us, then we easily answer the call to love those we encounter who are in need. If we happen to venture out of our way to what is labeled as the “bad part of town,” we may buy a meal for the woman begging with her children. Or if we go to a concert where they ask us to sponsor a child, we will oblige—at least the first time—to fulfill the requirement.
This is the question for Christians today: who do you choose as your neighbor?
This is the question for Christians today: who do you choose as your neighbor? Are you choosing to surround yourself with people who require minimal love from you, taking a safer road from Jerusalem to Jericho in order to avoid men in need? Are you only willing to encounter the least of these, and therefore encounter Jesus, on your own terms, but not at your inconvenience?
These are questions I never considered until my summer in Washington, DC. I was blessed to be a part of Baylor in Washington’s Summer Fellowship for Religion & Social Life, where I spent half of my week in seminars with guest speakers from around the nation and the rest of my time at an internship of my choice.
In the first few weeks of seminars, the idea of integrated living was introduced by guest speakers Dr. Jeremy Everett and Ms. La Wonda Bornstein. Dr. Everett lived in impoverished areas where he came to know his neighbors on a personal level to understand and meet their needs. He told us stories of the coffee shop he started at the request of his neighborhood that provided free laptops, community events, and a safe space from gang violence. Ms. Bornstein is the president and CEO of The House DC, a haven located a few blocks away from Anacostia High School where students can receive services for personal and spiritual growth, meals and groceries for their families, academic mentorship, and job training. Like Dr. Everett’s coffee shop, The House is protected by gangs in the area, even though it is located on the street of houses known as “Murder Row.” These ministries were able to make deep and lasting impacts because they were integrated into their communities. They chose to be literal neighbors with the people God had called them to serve, even at the risk of their safety and comfort.
While I was learning the inspirational stories of our speakers, I had the privilege of experiencing integrated living firsthand at my internship. L’Arche is an international network of living communities that invites people with and without intellectual disabilities to live life alongside each other in Christ. There are approximately 150 communities in 37 countries, and each have core members (people with disabilities) living in the same house as assistants (people without disabilities) and going through daily routines together.
Ontario House is a four-story townhouse in Adams Morgan, a culturally diverse neighborhood in the Northwest quadrant of DC. It is currently home to three L’Arche core members, four assistants, and the husband of an assistant. While working as an assistant for two months at Ontario House, I got to experience the joy of choosing an unconventional dream. At L’Arche, people are fully interdependent with no white fences separating their lives. When sharing time with the core members, assistants support them with anything they need. For core members with greater needs, this means getting them dressed in the morning, helping them use the restroom, and brushing their teeth. Assistants cook meals, do laundry, and drive to activities or appointments. They bear through core members yelling, refusing to cooperate, or insisting on watching The Secret Life of Pets for the twentieth time…this month alone.
Why do assistants choose to live life at L’Arche? The answer is obvious after having just one dinner at Ontario House. While the core members depend on the assistants for basic physical needs, the assistants at L’Arche depend on core members for basic emotional and spiritual needs.
Of the current core members at Ontario, Ms. Eileen is the youngest and most active. She is a professional artist that sells her drawings and co-curates art shows, a community servant that volunteers for nonprofits, an advocate on Capitol Hill fighting for the rights of the vulnerable, and a L’Arche GWDC employee with the title “Friendship Builder.” The title is fitting because Ms. Eileen is truly a friend to everyone she encounters. Each morning, Ms. Eileen would greet me with a wide grin, an enthusiastic “Hi!” and a hug or squeeze of the hand.
Ms. Debora is Ontario’s resident singer and fashion queen. She knows the lyrics to practically every 60s song (the Beatles are her favorite) and owns a total of 64 dresses (one of my summer projects was to count them). When we took a trip as a house to L’Arche USA Southeast Regional Gathering in North Carolina, I had the privilege of rooming with Debora. Although we were up at 5:30am every morning to use the restroom, our acapella duets to “Yellow Submarine” and “Have You Ever Seen the Rain?” while going through the rest of her morning routine gave me more than enough energy for the day.
Johnny is a Cuban immigrant in his eighties who speaks almost exclusively in Spanish. When describing English, he knocks twice on the wood table, indicating that it is “very hard.” When I first arrived at Ontario, I could not understand a word Johnny was saying. But, over time and with the help of the Lord, we learned to communicate with my limited Spanish and his limited English to the point of sitting and talking with each other for up to twenty minutes at a time. My favorite part of the summer was walking into the dining room in the morning when Johnny was at the table. He would beckon me over, I would kneel beside his wheelchair, he would put his arm around me, motion me closer, and give me a big kiss on the cheek. I would respond, “Gracias Johnny, te amo” and converse with him briefly before sneaking into the kitchen to wipe the egg or oatmeal off my face.
A month before I came to the house, they lost their founding core member, Mr. Michael Schaff, at eighty years of age. Michael moved in with L’Arche Greater Washington DC in 1983. Though I never had the blessing of knowing Michael, he was known in Adams Morgan as a present and loving neighbor. His obituary tells that “Anyone who had the pleasure of accompanying Mike on his daily trip to McDonald’s got to witness how known he was in the neighborhood, and his incredible memory of each person’s family tree, how many grandkids, who was divorced, and who was engaged.”
If you decide to integrate yourself with people who require something of you, you might just see the face of God in their face and feel his love in ways you have yet to experience.
L’Arche taught me that choosing to be neighbors to “the least of these”—though it comes at the sacrifice of time, energy, and personal comforts—brings a multitude of blessings. Eileen, Debora, and Johnny showed me Christ unlike anyone had before through their unique personalities and gifts. As 1 Corinthians 12:22 tells us, “the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable.” As they relied on me to meet their physical needs, I relied on the sense of belonging and connectedness they abundantly provided.
So, who will you choose as your neighbor? If you decide to integrate yourself with people who require something of you, you might just see the face of God in their face and feel his love in ways you have yet to experience. Let us, as Christians in America, choose the unconventional dream of interdependence with Christ and his body.