How do we love our neighbors? When you find ways to extend love to those near you, it becomes easier to extend love and compassion to those with whom you disagree. In polarized time that extension of love gets even harder, but becomes more important for people trying to transform the world.
As I sit in my backyard during quarantine, I talk with my backyard neighbors more than ever. We see each other daily, we pick up groceries to minimize store runs, and share odds and ends across the fences that separate our yards.
These neighbors are not all people I would call friends, but they are the near people who I try to love. To really love them for me means pausing to say hello and be with them. When I pause and prioritize these relationships, I extend myself in love.
It makes me a little extra tired to stop all the time. That’s why I’ve learned to integrate the love work with physical tasks. It’s great to make the neighbor hello a break from weeding the flower beds.
A small extension is practice that helps you love the neighbors who feel further from us, more different, or express views that hurt our sense of justice and truth. Loving can include a belief that a person can change, can be more compassionate, or can act with more concern from the world. I call this agitational love.
When I watched protesters outside state buildings demanding that stay-at-home orders be lifted during the COVID-19 pandemic, I asked how can I love these people. Then I remembers that their jobs also disappeared over night, and in that grief people can try to bargain with whoever they can to make the pain go away. To get to this recognition takes slowing down to recognize someone’s humanity.
Check your capacity before you try, because when you over extend love can quickly turn to bitterness. Ask yourself, how much capacity to I have to show up for this person. Use your internal barometer as a guide.
When you can extend, then you allow yourself to be surprised by their humanity. With those protesters, I keep remember that I protest and expect better leadership from elected officials. And their protests help me remember that this is a moment where people are looking for leadership and are often getting disappointed. From this place you can start to organize for change.
When you don’t have the capacity to extend yourself, remember that you have a right to set boundaries to keep away what’s toxic from your life. And that doesn’t mean you need to ignore the world that continues around you. Here’s a prayer to try in those moments.
I love you, and I can feel your pain from here.
Your pain is righteous, honest, and true. However, the way you express your pain hurts me, so I cannot be with you right now. I still love you, and the best way I can love you is to pray for your pain to end and tell you how much I care.
Prayer is a tool you can use across the distance to help with many things. And when dealing with people who infuriate me, I find prayer can build a healthy boundary that still allows me to love.
I used it with a stranger one summer when I was on the hunt for local produce. As I pulled up to a farmer’s market I sighed in relief. After zipping past the artisanal eggs and food trucks, I found a small farmer with a tent and two tables.
After picking up some delicious zucchini that conversation lightly turned to politics. “Did you know that Trump appointed the first farmer to head the Dept. of Agriculture in years.” As I noticed my body freeze in shock that I may be talking to a Trump supporter, I focused on breathing and maintaining eye contact.
I wanted to love this farmer, but how could I support a Trump supporter. I listened for another minute then drew a boundary. “Well thanks for the vegetables, and best wishes with this summer season of farming.”
That last part was the beginning of a prayer. I pray for farmers who are hurt by an agricultural system that squeezes small farmers dry. I pray for them to have the strength to get up each morning. May they feel the support of those of us who values their efforts.
That impulse to care is strong. But to fully care, means adding yourself back into the caring equation. How might you care for someone at a healthy distance?