Start with a conversation.

The amount of time I’ve had the opportunity to spend with faith communities has convinced me that churches are eager to connect with their neighbors. There is a deep and profound desire to feel connected, and sadness that the disconnect has become so acute. Churches remember when they felt like an extension and essential association of a neighborhood. They remember what it was like to run into their neighbors at church, and their fellow congregants at the grocery store. They know that neighborhood demographics have changed, and that church demographics have not. And, every time I talk to church folks, there is a desire for a meaningful kind of neighborliness to reemerge.

It’s not a lack of interest or desire that keeps the work from happening. It’s rare that I encounter someone in a congregation who genuinely doesn’t care about the neighborhood. What I find more is that most of us just don’t know where to begin.

Where to begin. Always a risky question. On the one hand, it’s entirely reasonable and appropriate to ask “What is the first step?”. And, on the other hand, asking the question about where to begin is often a way to avoid the messier realities that 1) there is no 10-point plan for neighborliness, and 2) by beginning you will inevitably be drawn into relationships with people you do not know, encounter difference and discomfort, and experience things you cannot anticipate. And that’s scary.

As much as I want to reject the idea of a universal first step, I do feel like I can say confidently that your first efforts at developing neighborliness as a church and a Christian in community will begin with the riskiest of all human endeavors – a conversation.

A conversation, such a simple thing. But despite its simplicity, the conversation is where strangers become neighbors. A conversation is where we are challenged to set down our own desired action, to listen and learn from another person, and where we develop affection and mutual care. Conversation is where we learn about someone else through the telling of their own story. Conversation is where we confront our assumptions and our biases, and it’s where we practice the most basic but impactful form of hospitality.

You might be saying to yourself there’s no reason to write about conversation – we all know how to have a conversation. But in my experience, despite its simplicity and despite our stated desire to have a universal first step, conversation is often the practice we avoid the most. Maybe we’re shy. Maybe we don’t know who to talk to first. Or, maybe, we know that the minute we open ourselves up to our neighbor we become accountable to that relationship, and that’s a risk we’re not sure we want to take.

Community has a cost. It will cost us our individualism, our isolation, and our patterns of possession and control. And what we get, at its best, is the knowledge that we are seen and beloved. We get the assurance that people beyond my family are invested in our wellbeing. And we get Christ making things new in our neighborhoods in the face of our neighbor. Well worth the cost of admission.  

Sounds pretty good to me. So, start with a conversation. Look around your neighborhood and the neighborhood where your church worships, and ask yourself some questions:

• Who are the neighbors I see outside the most?
• Who are the neighbors that walk past our church, or stop in for some purpose?
• Who are the neighbors who share space with us? Another local congregation, a neighborhood group, or a daycare?

There is no shortage of neighbors for you to reach out to. I don’t find that churches struggle to see their neighbors, they struggle to engage them. But once we lift our eyes from the few inches in front of our feet, and ask God to give us a neighborly awareness, we will be overwhelmed with the abundance of neighbors to meet and connect with.

When I’m having a conversation with a neighbor for the first time, I’ll often ask them one question to start with. “How long have you lived in the neighborhood?” I love this question, because depending on their answer your conversation can go very different directions, like a neighborly choose your own adventure.

• If they say they’ve lived in a community for a long time, you can ask them how they’ve seen the community change. This will give you some information about the history of your community, and name some of this neighbor’s interests and values.
• If they say they’ve lived in the community just a short time, you ask them what brought them to the neighborhood. This will give you some background on this neighbor and will again name some of what they value in a community.

Conversations are simple, but they contain multitudes and complexity. They open the door between our neighbor and ourselves. Every time I sit down with church folks who have an idea for connecting to the neighborhood, my first question is always “have you talked to your neighbors?”. And honestly, the answer is almost always no.

If you and your congregation are committed to more fully embracing the neighborhood and community where you live and worship, and you’re wondering where to begin – find someone you don’t know and have a conversation. Everything we do always emerges from that simple practice.

Photo by Cristina Gottardi on Unsplash