My friend Anthony and I were at the apartment of a man who had visited our inner-city church. He lived in a federal housing project with deferred maintenance, no grass, and a lot of broken glass. His living room furniture was old, dirty and torn.
When he asked if we wanted coffee, we crowded into his kitchen which was smaller than our bedroom closet. When the coffee was ready, Anthony asked for a spoon to stir in the sugar. Our host said, “Drawer next to the stove.” When Anthony opened the drawer, all three of us saw dozens of roaches flee to new hiding spots. Anthony froze. Then, he took a spoon which had hosted three roaches, and plunged it into his coffee.
Our host shook his head and said, “In our neighborhood, we would have washed that spoon.”
I was ashamed. I thought our host must like roaches, was not concerned about disease, and practiced unsanitary habits. I was wrong. I thought since he was a stranger to me, he must be strange. In reality, we were more alike than we were different. I realized the first step in loving the vulnerable is to stop thinking of them as strange and strangers and begin regarding them as neighbors.