Loving my neighbor shouldn’t be this hard!

There was a time in my life when I didn’t have to think about little things like walking or running, or carrying something heavy, or using good form in the gym, but then I injured my back in college, and I’ve had to be a bit more intentional ever since. Some folks lose their carefree days of moving around in the world after a tough pregnancy, or a car wreck, or a death, or a long period of stress, and we find the normal tasks of everyday life involve a little more pain than they used to.

I imagine most of us can relate to this feeling right now when it comes to being part of a community. It’s hard to imagine the pilgrims at the first Thanksgiving having to make peace with what the person next to them just posted on Facebook, or walking on eggshells to avoid an argument about gender or vaccines. It makes sense to long for days when normal parts of life didn’t involve quite so much friction, whether it’s sitting together as a family for dinner, or going to PTA meetings, or being part of a church or an HOA.

With my back injury, it got to the point where I was taking six Advil just to make it through a long plane ride or a full day of sitting at a desk, until a friend suggested I go to physical therapy. PT usually starts with little exercises for muscles we don’t even know are there, and for me it didn’t end until I had learned to walk in whole a new way. That experience gives me patience when other parts of normal life aren’t as easy as they used to be.

When something happens that makes loving our neighbor harder than it used to be, the temptation is to get rid of the neighbors we don’t like, but that is like taking six Advil a day instead of going to PT. It doesn’t change the underlying problem, and our range of motion becomes more and more limited until it’s hard to even leave the house.

I don’t think that’s God’s plan for us. Jesus shared his life with the people others were trying to get rid of or get away from, and I don’t think the salvation he offers can be separated from the space he made for us to trade casting each other out for learning new ways to stay related. It’s tempting to look to Jesus like a bottle of Advil, but I think he’s much closer to the pt we need to get us back up and moving again, albeit with a little more intention.

Nacoochee Presbyterian Church holds a three-day program each summer, and our theme this year was “Loving my neighbor shouldn’t be this hard!” Our purpose in organizing this was to learn a new way to walk, so that the normal walk of faith doesn’t involve quite so much pain. We spent our whole summer preparing three days of space in which our church and our neighbors could come together to learn, laugh and sing, share meals, and walk away with a new appreciation for all the little things that sustain joy in community.

It still surprises me to notice how God has taken the experience of physical injury and rehab and turned it into confidence that pain doesn’t have to last forever if I’m willing to ask for help and exercise new muscles and learn a new way to walk. I pray we can also find that confidence in the life of faith we share, not just with members of the church, but with all the neighbors God is weaving together into one community.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit. (Psalm 51:12)