The World Needs More Neighbors

Over the past few weeks, we’ve been exploring what it means to see, welcome, and move toward people experiencing hardship.

We began with a man in the South Bronx who taught me that while people experiencing poverty are often recipients of ministry, they may also be the people through whom God ministers to the rest of us.

Then we considered the difference between Disney and the DMV, and why our processes should always serve people, not the other way around.

Last week, I told you about my friend and former colleague’s “heads-up commuting,” or the discipline of looking up, paying attention, and leaving enough room in our lives to be interrupted. 

All three ideas point toward the same invitation of learning to love our neighbors as ourselves.

That may sound simple, but if you’re anything like me, there can be a frustrating gap between the kind of community we want and the way we actually live.

I complain that everyone stares at their phones while commuting, yet I’m writing this on my phone while sitting on the floor of Penn Station. I lament how isolated we’ve become, but if you asked me to name everyone who lives on my street, you’d quickly realize that I don’t always practice what I preach.

Perhaps you recognize some of that tension in your own life. I don’t mention it to make either of us feel guilty, but because changing our communities begins with examining the small ways we participate in creating them. Before we critique the world around us, we might gently ask ourselves: Is there anything I could do differently?

At City Relief, we have wrestled with a similar question for years. What are we ultimately trying to accomplish by mobilizing resources, volunteers, and community partnerships?

If our goal is simply to serve as many meals, distribute as many socks, or complete as many referrals as possible, efficiency can quickly gobble up all of our attention. Because the truth is that we can serve tens of thousands of meals and still leave people starving for connection.

Don’t get me wrong, the resources matter enormously. But loving our neighbors requires far more than meeting their immediate needs; it asks us to recognize the person carrying those needs.

For those of us who claim to be Christians, we need to remember when Jesus was asked to identify the greatest commandment. He replied by saying it is to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind. Then He added, "Love your neighbor as yourself."

Jesus didn’t love people from a comfortable distance. He shared meals with outcasts, entered the homes of strangers, asked difficult questions of religious leaders, and touched people others avoided altogether. 

Ultimately, Jesus transformed strangers into neighbors.

Helping can fit neatly into a volunteer shift, but being a neighbor rarely respects our schedules. Helping can unintentionally reinforce the power dynamic of “I have something you need.” Loving our neighbors as ourselves recognizes that we both have something to offer, and something to receive. Helping might mean sharing our leftovers; loving our neighbors means refusing to reduce people to their circumstances.

A person experiencing homelessness is not a "housing problem." A person struggling with addiction is not a "sobriety problem." A family facing eviction is not a "case number." Every person carries a name, a story, skills, disappointments, relationships, and dreams.

At City Relief, every meal, pair of socks, legal consultation, and housing referral is meant to become an invitation into something deeper: a relationship in which someone can be seen, known, supported, and reminded that they belong.

So, as this series ends, I'd like to offer all of us a simple challenge. Let’s learn a neighbor’s name, intentionally put down our phones, and make room for interruptions. We don't have to solve every problem to help one person feel less alone. 

Thanks for continuing to walk with me on Fridays through these emails. Next week I will begin a new series about how homelessness is impacting children across the country. 

Until then,

Josiah Haken

City Relief, CEO