Learning to Love

My wife and I are exploring what Jesus meant when he said love your neighbor. It seems like such a simple but radical concept when you think about it. How many of us love our neighbor? My wife and I really wanted to find something that we could engage our kids in with us. We wanted to explore this as a family so we could discuss it over dinners and let them explore this with us. We wanted to find a way to make it real for us and for them.

Loving your neighbor is an interesting concept. In my previous neighborhood, I barely knew the guy three doors down, let alone loved him. I remember moving in and a guy that lived across the street brought us brownies as a welcoming gift. It was really awesome to feel welcomed but I never saw the guy again though. He moved a little bit later.

The other guys across the street was also nice but it always felt he had an agenda, as though our conversations would lead to some political vote for something I was yet aware of. His palms were sometimes sweaty and he had a grin about him that made me wonder. He was always looking around waiting for the next neighbor. I confess I didn't really understand the guy, nor did I know him.

In my new neighborhood, everything feels great. I really do love my neighbors, in sort of a great community sense. But as my wife and I talked about it, they don't need much. Not in the way I think Jesus meant it. Everyone has a good job, and most have great kids that play with our kids. It is really a great community. Most of my neighbors actually know Jesus and are involved in some kind of church. I know they would be there for me if I needed it, and they know I would be there for them if they needed it. The problem is that none of us ever really need it.

In high school, my pastor was always talking about going to Africa for missions, as if my neighbor was someone on the other side of the world. This never really made sense to me, and left me pondering. For me, I don't find myself wanting to go to Africa, unless it means going to a Safari. I read an article recently that Africa now has more Christian's that the U.S. does, so I thought it was more practical to go next door or some place local. When ever someone would talk about missions, I would think about how much it would cost just to get there and then think what that could do for the guy who really needed it here. There was a need here wasn't there.

In college, I did experience a missions trip to Mexico with some friends. We went to a border town in Jalisco and played games with the kids, handed out used clothing, and washed some fo the youth who really neeeded it. But the experience has an economic feel to it. I was out to get something from the experience. I did walk away from it with a better sense of myself, as though I had done my part and could now go back to school and not feel guilty about partying. It felt as though God would give me a pardon for my partying because I had served the poor. My card was punched. As I reflected on this experience, I wanted something without the economic exchange, something deeper.

A friend of mine mentioned to me a couple of weeks ago that he helped serve with a local homeless shelter. He was even able to include his kids in the process and they loved it. I took my family last week really wanting to just love, to be available to whatever was in the moment. I didn't want any economic return out of it. I just wanted to love. When we got there, there were more volunteers than homeless people. There was nothing to do. I tried not to be disappointed but I was.

As I drove home with my family, looking for some place to grab a Taco, I reflected on the experience. What it did show me was that I live in a pretty safe world. Outside of this little homeless shelter, there isn't another place like this. The fact that I live in a community that has little to no homeless should be a good thing. Folsom is also home to one of the nation's most famous prisons, made famous by Johnny Cash. But in reality, I don't hear about the prison at all Its neatly placed behind the hills and you have to really look to notice its even there. A good friend of mine works there but I don't see him much beyond days at the clubhouse pool, and it never seems to come up.

As I munched on my Taco that evening, around our Pier One glass table in our convenient breakfast nook, I wrestled with my own experience with need. It made me wonder if I had created a cocoon around my family to insulate us from a world that needed love. I really didn't know anyone with needs in the traditional sense. I didn't know anyone who wondered where their next meal came from or how they were going to pay for the lights. Suburbia had driven me to a pretty safe life.

I'm not brow beating myself. I am in the beginning stages of exploring what I believe is what I am created for, to love. But in that journey, I am beginning to wonder what walls I have created for myself that keep me from being who I am.

Jesus calls us to love the poor, the sick, the broken-hearted, and the fatherless. I wonder if by selecting those who have no capacity to give back with anything other than a smile, we can remove the economics from it all. By removing the economics, or return on investment, I wonder if I will discover something deeper about giving than I am presently aware of. I say that with an expectation of "yes". When I really think about it I think people like Mother Theresa, who serve those in greatest need, had to know something more than I do. There just has to be something deeper there that would allow them to serve in what is widely considered "hell on earth". I wanted to discover that something.

But to do so requires me to tear down my walls, and to enter an unsafe world. A world that is messy. Am I ready for messy? I want to be. Oh this heart of mine.

Tonight I found this really great ministry organizations called Angel Food Ministries. My heart leaped for some reason. It seemed like a really great idea that I could explore with my family. The idea is fairly simple and the volunteers simply help distribute food to the poor who need it. I like the simplicity of it. I like the name, the idea, and that I can bring my children with me.

We'll see what happens.