Neighborliness

Love Like Jesus. Cross Dividing Lines. Transform Your Community.

David Docusen

• Publisher: Thomas Nelson
• Year: 2022
• Print ISBN: 9780785289289
• eBook ISBN: 9780785289333
• Topic: Teología y religión
• Subtopic: Iglesia cristiana

Do you want to love your neighbor as yourself but don’t know where to start? This practical, accessible guide to bridging the dividing lines of politics, race, and economics, both individually and as the church, will help you amplify Jesus in your community and build God’s kingdom.  

When asked what the greatest commandment is, Jesus gave a two-part answer: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength” and also “Love your neighbor as yourself.”   

Love God. Love others.   

Jesus’ simple command to love your neighbor can feel overwhelming when your neighbor looks, lives, and votes differently than you do. Racial and economic tensions across the country have resulted in deep dividing lines that seem really intimidating to cross.   

Docusen breaks down these lines in approachable chapters, including topics like these: 

• how to actively seek out people you can benefit and encourage,
• what it means to find a diverse and supportive community that fulfills needs, 
• examples of real-life experiences, including highlights and missteps of Docusen’s ongoing journey, and
• how churches can teach on difficult topics with grace and truth.

Neighborliness is a practical guide to bridging those dividing lines and learning to recognize and amplify the beauty of God in our communities. Backed by David’s speaking and training through the Neighborliness Center, this book will help individuals and churches reach out to their neighbors, love them through Christ, and build God’s kingdom. 

FOUR 4

A LOOK INWARD

We must identify cultural boundaries that are in need of kingdom trespass.

DR. BRIAN BLOUNT, GO PREACH!¹

What keeps us from seeing and knowing neighbors who are different from us? What gets in the way of loving our neighbors? If you look around and all your neighbors look like you, what is keeping you from finding the beauty of God across dividing lines?

I think there are three main things that get in the way of loving our neighbors and expanding our circles: inattentional blindness, implicit bias, and an aversion to discomfort. In order to see how these are at play in our lives, we need to look inward and understand what is happening on a subconscious level.

“Who do you think you’re better than?”² The people in the crowd looked at me completely stunned, if not offended.

“We all think this way,” I said to the gathered crowd at Center City Church on a Sunday morning. “Whether we want to admit it or not, we all have a way of seeing the world in a certain order. I have had to come to grips with my own biases and preconceived ideas of others who are different from me.”

I saw Kiera scribble something in her journal. She stared straight past me and into the exposed rafters of the church auditorium. My attention was drawn to her several times throughout the service. It seemed like she never locked back into what I was saying.

I noticed her waiting patiently to speak to me at the end of the service. “Pastor David,” she said quietly, “I think a lot of people in the room probably thought about homeless people on the corner asking for money. Maybe they thought of people who are living in poverty. However, I have a completely different perspective.”

“I noticed you taking notes during the message,” I said. “What was on your mind?”

She paused for a few minutes as her eyes moved toward the floor. “I think I’m better than every person that fills the top of those buildings.” She pointed to the skyscrapers in Uptown Charlotte.

“I work so hard to help others in need, and I am in need myself. But I never realized that in my effort to help others, I have formed an opinion of a bunch of people that I have never met who are wealthy and influential. I think I am better than them because I think they are all greedy.” Tears started streaming down her face.

Honestly, I was startled.

I had never even considered this perspective.

Kiera was one of the most genuinely loving and caring people in our community. She poured herself out for others in a way that was beautiful and inspiring. As she described her response to the message that day, I felt the urge to check my own heart as well.

“My mind kept going back to your question because I realized that I have been judgmental toward anyone that I meet who has a lot of money. I have a huge desire to love others who are, like me, living in poverty. We are just trying to make it work, and it seems like we can’t catch a break. However, if I am going to truly love my neighbors the way that you’re saying, I need to open my heart to people who aren’t like me.”

Who do you think you are better than?

Recognize Inattentional Blindness

Hurricane Florence hovered over Charlotte for several days in 2018. The rain was relentless. The combination of a slow-moving storm and high winds meant trees came down and debris filled our yard. Since I needed a chainsaw to clear the large tree limbs that had fallen, my neighbor advised me to “head over to Big Earl’s.”

“Where?” I asked.

“Big Earl’s. It’s just around the corner. Best deal in town by a long shot, and he won’t sell you a piece of junk. You’re going to need a good chainsaw for this project.”

I had no clue what he was talking about, but taking his advice, I took a right out of my neighborhood and a left at the first light. Sure enough, there was a mom-and-pop tool shop on the left less than a mile down the road. I picked up a great chainsaw and some incredible stories about our neighborhood in the same visit.

I’d never even known the shop was there.

Inattentional blindness is a psychological phenomenon that causes you to miss things that are right in front of your eyes. I’d driven by Big Earl’s tool shop countless times on my familiar path home. I’d never noticed it because I’d never had a need for a chainsaw until Hurricane Florence parked on top of my neighborhood.

I see Big Earl’s shop all the time now.

Inattentional blindness is present when discussing racial and economic inequality. It often keeps us from seeing our neighbors and recognizing their needs. I never knew much about unequal treatment of people of color and people from a lower economic class because, as a middle-class white man living in our culture, I did not need to know.

I have lived in this world without having to see through the lens of a person of color, a person living in abject poverty, or a woman trying to navigate a world that has been dominated by male leadership.

However, I started to see inequality everywhere once I started to explore racial, economic, and gender inequalities on my own. The more I read, the more I lament. The more I learn, the more I am profoundly impacted. The more I listen, the more my heart breaks. The more I recognize my inattentional blindness, the more I can help and support my neighbors.

“David, people don’t see me.” Johnny looked back at me with tears welling up in his eyes. “Being Asian American in this country means that you walk around in the shadows in broad daylight.”

I was invited to teach on the topic of holistic community development for a predominantly Korean American nonprofit organization that was developing strategies to invest in a low-income neighborhood in their community. I was delighted to find out that the entire three-day event was going to be hosted at the home of the leader of the organization where Johnny works.

I have enjoyed the presence of Korean friends, colleagues, and acquaintances over the years. However, this was the first time that I had the opportunity to spend multiple days immersed in Korean culture. We enjoyed conversations that naturally moved between high-level strategic planning and laughing until our stomachs hurt.

I will never forget how startled I was when the food arrived at an unbelievably delicious and swanky steakhouse. Everyone instinctively started cutting their food and placing it on one another’s plates without asking. I was so enthralled I just sat there smiling as the scenes of joy and generosity filled my heart.

“Come on, bro,” Johnny said. “We all just share. It’s our culture.” I cut up my food and joined in this new-to-me practice.

As a side note, I grew up just outside Detroit, Michigan, in a family that protected their dinner plates as they would a family heirloom. When food arrived at our family gatherings, it was a race to finish. To say this experience at the steakhouse was a new phenomenon to me would be a wild understatement.

But I was having so much fun.

I realized that I was being given the great gift of hospitality as my new friends kept placing filet mignon, balsamic-glazed chicken, lemon-battered fried shrimp, and every vegetable I could imagine on my plate. I caught a glimpse of our waiter as the scene unfolded. He was a fortysomething white man in a perfectly manicured tuxedo shirt with a bow tie. He was smiling too.

Johnny and I were sitting next to each other at one of the meals when he opened up about his experiences growing up as a first-generation Korean American. He would pause as he stared at his food, but I sensed that he was seeing more pain than he was sharing. I have learned to treasure the moments when people from different backgrounds open their hearts and begin sharing personal experiences.

Our three days together ended too soon on a crisp Friday morning. Before I left their home and headed back to Charlotte, the leader of the organization asked if they could pray over me. I was moved to genuine tears when it became clear that all twelve people gathered in the living room that morning would end up praying for my entire family by name, our ministry, and for God’s power, anointing, and provision to be on display in our lives.

I felt so seen and welcomed when I could just as easily have been treated as an outsider. Their hospitality was life-giving and eye-opening. I learned that sharing a meal with new friends is so much more fun when it includes literally sharing my meal. I was touched by their vulnerability and honesty as they opened their arms and welcomed me into their hearts and home.

I’m forever grateful for my new friends and inspired to open my heart and home for others in the same way theirs was open to me.

When I live in a homogeneous bubble, I miss out on the joys, customs, and strengths of people from different backgrounds. Additionally, it can be easy to be dismissive and turn a blind eye to things I do not understand.

When I build genuine friendships across dividing lines, I am compelled to listen. When I listen to my friends, I am compelled to advocate for equitable treatment of my neighbors of all backgrounds. When I advocate for equal treatment for my friends, I am advocating for countless people experiencing the same things. My inattentional blindness is exposed when I hear the stories of people whom I love and trust recount times they have been restricted access to boardrooms, leadership teams, scholarships, and promotions.

However, I cannot advocate if I cannot see.

We all have inattentional blindness. What is right in front of you that you cannot or have not needed to see? When the psalmist David prayed that God would search his heart, he found that he needed to repent of sins that he did not even know were present.

Will you do the same?

Acknowledge Implicit Bias

Why did I look down and to the left?

The church I pastored was intentionally located directly on a dividing line between the rich and the poor. I regularly spoke up about finding friendship across dividing lines. I helped start an organization that aimed to help break generational patterns of poverty. I had even begun a doctoral program at Southeastern University studying racial and economic advocacy.

Yet I still looked down and to the left.

I was so disappointed in myself.

The day was giving way to night as I walked down Tryon Street in Uptown Charlotte. I had spent an entire day in the city working alongside my neighbors to advocate for developing an affordable housing strategy for our community. My spirits were high, and I was feeling good about the work we were doing. I saw a young couple walking in the opposite direction and I smiled and waved at them. I didn’t know them, but I instinctively thought that we could be friends.

A few moments later, a man came walking from the same direction. His hair was disheveled. He was wearing two backpacks. His brow was furrowed and his face unshaved. Without thinking, I took four steps clo...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Foreword
• Introduction
• One: The Day I Opened My Eyes
• Two: The Other Half of the Greatest Commandment
• Three: A Tale of Two Cities
• Four: A Look Inward
• Five: Reconsidering Reconciliation and Inclusion
• Six: From One Generation to the Next
• Seven: Learning to Lament
• Eight: We Belong to One Another
• Nine: Toxic Charity
• Ten: Everyone Participates
• Eleven: The City Beautiful
• Twelve: Rebuild and Restore
• Thirteen: Already and Not Yet
• Fourteen: Hands Open, Palms to the Sky
• Neighborliness in Your Church
• Recommended Resources
• Acknowledgments
• Notes
• About the Author