Paris, Beirut, Kenya: Who is my neighbor?
I hear that my next-door neighbor’s child is in the hospital. I rush over to see what I can do, I pray, I make a casserole. I hear that someone I grew up with was attacked and killed. I am shocked to the point of paralysis. How could this be? I hear that a child of the community where I live has overdosed. I am stunned. I participate in a prayer vigil. I send cards to the family. Who is my neighbor? Through the Prison Justice and Ministry group at my seminary I begin visiting women incarcerated at the local prison, mentoring them while they work toward a degree. A relationship forms, they become my neighbors. I am upset when they have set-backs, they inspire me when they overcome their struggles and earn their degrees. I read news stories about the prison population and I care in a new way. I have made new neighbors. I spend some time with the ‘down and out’ in a city shelter and working in a city church. I know the names of men and women I might have passed in the street. I know their stories and they know me. I can catch up and check in with them when we meet on the street. They have become my neighbors. Who is my neighbor? I hear of bomb blasts and gun violence in a beautiful city I have visited on occasion, in a country that is neighbor to my homeland. I studied their language in school. My husband was in that country just a week ago. We have family there. I am shocked and stunned, fearful. I pray. I am reminded that all of these things, and more, are happening all over the world to people I do not consider neighbors. God, help me make new neighbors.
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