Loving Thy Neighbor: Are We Living It, or Just Talking About It?

It has been a hot second since I last blogged. You could say life has been a bit of a whirlwind lately. Sometimes I wonder if, as we get older, we simply slow down physically, making it feel like time is moving faster. I’m not entirely sure what makes people say, “Time goes faster and faster as you get older,” but that’s my theory!

The last few months have been a lot, both professionally and personally. My work with members in the community, many of whom are vulnerable adults, is rewarding in ways that are difficult to put into words, but it can also be incredibly exhausting.

I have always said that my motivation in any career has been rooted in one thing: wanting to help people. Social work, in any capacity, is not for the faint of heart. Mentally and emotionally, it can take a lot out of you. But there is something incredibly rewarding about knowing you've helped someone, made a difference, or played even a small part in improving their life. I've learned so much in my current career, and I know there is still so much more to learn. I look forward to continuing to serve others, but that doesn't mean Mama isn't exhausted!

Recently, I was assisting one of my members with transitioning from a facility back into the community. After spending time in a facility, participating in physical therapy, and working hard to regain strength and independence, this individual was finally ready to start rebuilding life in the community with some additional support.

My role is to help members work toward their goals while ensuring their health and safety. In this particular situation, that meant coordinating services, identifying community resources, and helping locate necessities to give this individual a fresh start. We were looking for places willing to donate household items, people who might know of available resources, and organizations that could help someone who was essentially starting over with very little.

I started by reaching out to the local food shelf, community resource center, and homeless shelter. Unfortunately, there was little to no assistance available through those organizations beyond providing the food shelf hours so my member could access food.

After those calls, I decided to try reaching out to local churches.

Now, this is not a bash the churches blog post. Rather, it is an honest reflection on some of the barriers we face within our communities and a question I think we should all be willing to consider.

As a Christian, I follow Jesus Christ. And when I think about what it means to follow Christ, I think about the people Jesus surrounded himself with and the people he chose to serve.

Jesus came to serve everyone, but he consistently reached out to those society often overlooked: the poor, the needy, the beggars, the sinners, the prostitutes, the tax collectors, the sick, and so many others who were judged or pushed aside by their communities.

He didn't turn people away because of their circumstances, their past, their struggles, or their social standing. He showed compassion. He served. He loved. He met people where they were.

And if I call myself a Christian, a follower of Christ, shouldn't I be striving to live that same way?

Shouldn't serving others, especially those who are struggling, be part of what it means to follow Jesus?

Love thy neighbor.

Isn't that a principle shared by many peaceful faiths and belief systems, even if the words or teachings differ? At its core, love involves compassion, kindness, and a willingness to help. Loving others isn't always just about what we say or feel. Sometimes, it's about what we're willing to do.

Which brings me back to calling the churches.

I contacted nine churches in the community looking for assistance or even a possible connection to someone who might be able to help. Of those nine, most said they were unable to assist or referred me back to the food shelf or community resource center. Two never returned my voicemail.

Thankfully, two churches did offer some help. One shared my information with a church member who was looking to give away furniture, and another was willing to work with my member through its community thrift shop.

Two out of nine.

I felt angry, but underneath that anger was something deeper: disappointment.

As Christians and churches that profess to follow biblical principles and the teachings of Jesus Christ, shouldn't we be among the first places people think to turn when there is a need? When did churches become locked doors and automatic "no's"? What happened to the church being a place of shelter, help, hope, and light?

As a Christian, I felt ashamed. As a member of the community, I felt angry.

I'll stop there because I don't want my frustration to overshadow the bigger point of this post.

To the two churches that stepped up, and especially to the parishioners who were willing to give away their furniture and help make this transition possible, THANK YOU! Your willingness to help matters more than you may ever realize. There is something incredibly beautiful about one human being helping another. Regardless of our beliefs, backgrounds, or differences, that kind of compassion is beautiful.

But I keep coming back to the disappointment I felt when I realized that some of the people I consider my brothers and sisters in Christ were, at least in this situation, brothers and sisters of convenience.

Somewhere along the way, I worry that the church has lost sight of its true purpose.

Too often, it seems the focus has shifted toward fancy coffee cups in the lobby, comfortable chairs, beautiful artwork, elaborate buildings, giant gyms, and the continued push to grow and expand. There is nothing inherently wrong with having nice spaces or wanting a church to grow. But what good is all of that if we lose sight of the very people Jesus spent his life serving?

What happened to living like Christ outside the walls of the church?

What happened to showing the world the love we so often talk about on Sunday mornings?

What happened to loving thy neighbor?

It's easy to talk about compassion. It's easy to share a Bible verse, offer a prayer, or say that we are called to serve others. But are we willing to put those words into action when someone actually needs us? When the need is inconvenient? When the person asking for help doesn't fit neatly into our expectations? When helping requires more than simply saying, "I'll pray for you"?

I don't believe every church has the resources to help every person who reaches out. I understand that organizations have limitations, financial responsibilities, and their own challenges. But sometimes helping doesn't have to mean opening your wallet or taking on an enormous responsibility. Sometimes it means making a phone call, connecting someone with a resource, sharing information, donating something you no longer need, or simply being willing to look for a solution rather than immediately saying no. I did. not receive that from the churches that answered and said no. There was no offer to help find resources or to make a phone call to ask more questions. It felt as though my phone call was an inconvenience for them.

Imagine what our communities could look like if we all approached our neighbors that way.

I hope that someday, not only churches but entire communities will come together more intentionally for those who are vulnerable, struggling, or carrying a stigma because of their circumstances, their past, or their story.

We need to be willing to look beyond labels and assumptions. We need to recognize that behind every situation is a human being. Someone with a story. Someone who deserves dignity. Someone who deserves to feel seen, valued, and supported.

Loving our neighbors, giving when we can, and putting others before our own convenience are the things that build unity rather than division.

And perhaps most importantly, when we show up for someone who feels forgotten or overlooked, we remind them of something they may have started to believe otherwise:

They matter.

That is what I hope we can get back to. Not just talking about love, kindness, faith, and community, but actually living it.

Because loving thy neighbor should never just be a phrase we say. It should be a way we live.