Love Thy Neighbor
Jesus was once asked, “What is the greatest commandment?” He answered this way, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”[1] Jesus’ answer is both easy to agree with and hard to live out. So what does it mean to love your neighbor? Especially the ones who are hard to love. This is the very question thinker and theologian Bob Goff seeks to answer in his book, Everybody, Always.[2]
In chapter two, titled “Meeting Carol,” Goff shares a simple but profound story about a neighbor whose presence disrupted the comfort of his home life. Carol, a woman living nearby, made many people uncomfortable. Yet rather than avoiding her, Goff began a relationship of love and presence with her—a choice that deeply embodied the heart of Jesus. This chapter becomes a practical call to love the neighbor we don’t understand, don’t agree with, or don’t naturally like. It urges us not just to tolerate people but to actively and sacrificially love them.
Goff writes, “Loving the neighbors we don’t understand takes work and humility and patience and guts.” This quote captures the essence of Christlike love: it is costly, inconvenient, and sometimes even a little awkward. It does not rely on mutual comfort or shared interests but instead grows from a deep conviction that every person is made in the image of God and worthy of love. Carol wasn’t lovable in the world’s eyes—she was unpredictable and emotionally unstable. Yet Goff and his family chose to see her not as a problem, but as a person.
This story echoes Jesus’ command in Luke 10:27 to “love your neighbor as yourself.” When asked, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus answered with the parable of the Good Samaritan—highlighting that neighbor-love crosses cultural, emotional, and social boundaries. Goff applies that parable in real life, suggesting that our neighbors are not merely the people who are easy to love or who live on our street; our neighbors are everybody, always.
One of the most challenging aspects of this chapter is how it redefines what love looks like. Goff didn’t love Carol by fixing her problems or by preaching to her. He simply made space in his life for her. He listened, he was present, and he offered kindness. In a world driven by efficiency and personal boundaries, this kind of love feels radical. Goff reminds us, “People don’t want to be told what to do; they want to be loved. They want to be seen.” This kind of seeing—really noticing someone, especially someone we’d rather avoid—is one of the most powerful expressions of the gospel.
What Goff demonstrates is a theology of availability. Loving our neighbor doesn’t require a master plan or deep theological training. It requires presence. It requires the willingness to let our lives be interrupted. Carol didn’t need perfection or answers. She needed someone to care enough to notice her, to treat her with dignity. That kind of love changes people—not just the ones we love, but us, too.
In the end, chapter two invites us to reflect: Who is the Carol in my life? Who have I written off as too difficult, too weird, too far gone? And what would it look like to offer them a place—not because they’ve earned it, but because love, as Goff says, “does”?
Let’s love Ames: https://ccames.org/localmatters/
[1] Matt. 22:37-38
[2] Goff, Bob. Everybody, Always: Becoming Love in a World Full of Setbacks and Difficult People. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2018.