Loving Your Neighbor: Why It's More than Bringing Over a Casserole

Article originally hosted and shared with permission by The Christian Economic Forum, a global network of leaders who join together to collaborate and introduce strategic ideas for the spread of God’s economic principles and the goodness of Jesus Christ. This article was from a collection of White Papers compiled for attendees of the CEF’s Global Event.



by Ali Motroni

The World Economic Forum coined 2020 “The Great Reset” in reference to this “rare but narrow window of opportunity to reflect, reimagine, and reset our world.” 

In my opinion, the question is not, “Can 2020 serve as a reset?” It’s clearer than ever that the world is not working for everyone. The more interesting and important question to ask ourselves is, “Do we want one?” And if we do, what is the role of the faith community in creating one? 

The pandemic didn’t create inequities, but it unearthed and magnified existing issues that have been humming under the hood of capitalism—making it run and growing louder over time. Maybe we have ignored the “check engine light” in the past, but now the capitalism car has started making strange noises, and smoke is pouring from the hood. What’s worse? When we pop it open and look underneath, we discover just how many things have stopped working and how many weren’t actually installed correctly in the first place. 

What exactly is causing the smoke? In 2019, the typical white family in the US had $184,000 in wealth, and the typical black family had $23,000.[1] Oxfam reports that from March 18, 2020, to the end of 2020, global billionaire wealth increased by $3.9 trillion. By contrast, global workers’ combined earnings fell by $3.7 trillion.[2] An estimated 2.5 billion people around the world don’t have access to basic sanitation systems,[3] and an estimated 40 million people are trapped in human trafficking, many of whom are creating products we use in our daily lives.[4] 

I am not here to argue that wealth is evil or that those with privilege should feel guilty having access to opportunity. I am here to propose that, in following the example of Jesus, we should care about the lives of the marginalized—the gaps in resources, opportunity, and economic inclusion. We should seek to humanize the people beneath the issues, to love our neighbors in more strategic ways by fighting for inclusive, sustainable systems, and to optimize our resources and influence to create a world that works for everyone, aligning with Jesus’ heart for “the least of these.”[5] 

As a broad stroke, for those of us with more privilege, economic systems, racial sentiment, and financial markets have all been working in our favor. Are we willing to consider that, though systems have been working for many of us, they haven’t been working for everyone? Are we willing to usher in a world that benefits others even if it takes sacrifice from us? 

I will spend the rest of this paper exploring three specific postures for the Christian community to assume if we want to play a meaningful role in this cultural moment—drawing on the example of Jesus in caring for the marginalized and grounded in the perspective of Biblical authority. 

Knowing our Neighbors 

Years ago, I heard a homily from Father James Finley at a Contemplative Prayer meeting in St. Monica’s Church on finding the Holiness in ordinary, non “spiritual” events—holding a loved one’s hand as they die, getting married, living alone for the first time, seeing a shooting star. While this contemplative thread is present in various Christian traditions, Father James Finley’s description of “spontaneous moments of contemplation”—when Heaven feels closer, and the veil is thin enough to encounter God in a new way—opened my heart to these unexpected holy moments. There are two specific experiences I’d like to share. 

In April of 2020, Black Lives Matter protests exploded around the world in response to the viral video of George Floyd’s tragic death and, even more deeply, as a response to hundreds of years of inequity and generational grief. I marched in Venice, California with a sign that read “Privilege is thinking something isn’t a problem because it doesn’t apply to you.” I watched one of the key activists at the march yell, “Say their names,” while the crowd yelled the names of Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and others, and I felt the heartbeat of God rising up in me, hurting with the hurt, grieving with the grief-stricken. I thought of the 

Beatitudes, a beautiful biblical excerpt where Jesus proclaims blessing on those who are poor in spirit, meek, and mourning and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.[6] As I looked around, I knew I was in the midst of the people Jesus proclaimed blessing over. 

A couple years prior to the BLM protests, I went to the Women’s March at City Hall in Los Angeles. The march was about women’s rights, immigration, and equity, amongst other things. I grew up in South Carolina, an epicenter of conservative thought, and found myself in LA at a pro-immigration march, feeling genuinely out of place. 

This is what I call good friction. No matter which side of the political aisle we sit on, it’s good to feel the friction of knowing the people whom our decisions and votes are affecting. 

I walked up to City Hall to see around 70 Mexican teenagers chanting “Education, not deportation.” Education, not deportation. Let that sink in for a minute. When I heard the kids chanting, my heart exploded. Education, not deportation. These teenagers didn’t understand the economic or political narrative behind immigration issues. At 15 years old, they simply felt the weight of not being wanted, of not belonging, and of knowing the types of opportunities they have in the US are so much greater than where they came from. I wept as I thought about how we’ve made immigration into a political issue when at the deepest level, it’s a human issue. I felt Jesus weep with me. 

I’m aware that, in some Christian circles, it is not popular to stand with these communities. I have friends who wouldn’t participate in the collective grief and cries for equity in the racial justice marches because they didn’t agree with the organization Black Lives Matter. While I understand the sentiment of not wanting to support an organization that doesn’t fully align with your values, I would like to gently suggest that we as the church are missing the point when we choose to ‘make a point’ instead of humbling ourselves and seeking to understand the broken. If we desire to follow the example of Jesus, we cannot ignore that He consistently loved and associated with the broken people from whom the Pharisees tried to distance themselves.[7] He was vehemently on the side of the poor, the marginalized, the hurting, and the undervalued. He was on their side when it cost Him His reputation, His safety, and, ultimately, His life. 

To participate meaningfully in any “great reset,” it first and foremost requires empathy. It requires repentance from deeply ingrained prejudice—or fear of “the other”—that we all carry at some level and recognition that, especially as Christians saved by grace, we should seek to see the Imago Dei in everyone. This means challenging ourselves to find ways to get 

relationally proximate to those Jesus spent the majority of His ministry serving, in order that we might love and serve them as He did. It takes putting political ideologies and pharisaical doctrinaire on the shelf and allowing the spirit of grace, love, and compassion to move our hearts towards empathy and understanding for the broken and marginalized. Only then can we make decisions that deeply affect others. 

Loving our Neighbors 

Another beautiful, yet historically controversial aspect of Jesus’ ministry on Earth was His willingness to flip tables[8] and power structures. He didn’t simply have His neighbors over for dinner (albeit an important act of Christian love), but He also examined the systems and religious structures that kept groups marginalized. Loving our neighbors isn’t just about meeting the needs of the individual in front of us. It’s about leveraging our power, privilege, influence, and wealth to transform systems which perpetuate inequities and circumstances that keep our neighbors down in the first place. 

One of my first experiences seeing cyclical poverty face to face was many years ago while living in Indianapolis. Upon an unexpected prodding from the Holy Spirit, I met a homeless family on the streets and spent many hours with the mom and her seven kids over the course of my two 

years in the city. It began as one of the more uncomfortable versions of “loving my neighbor” that I had experienced as I found myself deeply involved in their lives— helping them move from a shelter to government subsidized housing, celebrating as the mom got a job and then promoted, and spending time with the kids as they grew up. 

Fast forward several years, and I have found myself in a position where I think of Tanee and her family often. I think about the issues they faced and the Imago Dei I believe they hold as humans, and I think about tackling systemic poverty in more strategic ways. In that season, “loving my neighbor” looked like hanging at the playground weekly with 50 kids under the age of 13 and sitting and listening to the struggles of the moms. And as I’ve grown in maturity, I believe that the call to “love my neighbor” should include those things but should also grow in sophistication and strategy as I continue to understand the world and its systemic issues in new ways. 

As believers grow in emotional maturity and cultural understanding, the way we love others should also grow in maturity and depth. If we do not address systems and structures, then we do not get a true reset, we get a Band-Aid. Historically, those who made the rules are also those who have most benefited from them. Our goal should be to create an optimized system that works for all, rather than one that is maximized for some. Are we willing to critically and humbly allow our love for our neighbors to pervade deeper into our decision making? 

This means advocating for the marginalized in our work, our purchasing, our investing, the ways we are voting, and who we invite into our circles. It means intentionally auditing these things and asking ourselves the challenging question of, “Do my priorities reflect the priorities of Jesus?” 

True “reset” takes more than good intentions. It takes more than philanthropy. It takes engaging private capital for solutions. It takes human-centered design. It takes building bridges between faith-based organizations and government, nonprofit, and secular organizations. It takes critically looking at what we can preserve that’s good and beautiful and what we need to fix to help others flourish. It takes aligning our actions and our decisions with our love. 

Investing in Our Neighbors 

“When I can stand under the waterfall of infinite mercy and know that I am loved precisely in my unworthiness, then I can easily pass along mercy to you.”[9] 

I love this imagery. Shortly after reading The Divine Dance for the first time, I took a trip to Yosemite and climbed underneath Yosemite Falls, letting the forceful water drench me as I held my arms up to the sky (on second thought, not my brightest idea). The power of the water reoriented my heart to think about abundance in a new way. What if I could be so drenched by Christ’s love and mercy that I could easily let it pass through me and trust that His abundance will continue drenching me? What if I don’t have to hold anything back because I have more than I’ll ever need? This is what it looks like to be working in step with the Spirit, prayerfully partnering to usher in His Kingdom on Earth as it is in Heaven. 

In imagining a new world—one that is equitable, just, and sustainable and one that is closer to God’s vision of Shalom—it is unwise and incomplete not to consider the role of capital. In the spirit of “reset” and in building a world that works for everyone, now is the time for the faith community to embody the “abundance mindset” that is our inheritance in Christ. Now is the time to strategically audit our lives and prayerfully consider what it means to love our  neighbors by leveraging the resources we have been called to steward. 

What role can impact investing play in the Christian’s redemptive toolkit? Why should we participate in this way? 

We must align our hearts with our dollars. The Bible has over 2000 verses that address money, with a cornerstone verse on generous living in Matthew 6:21: “Where your money is, there your heart will be also.” While 88% of faith-based investors use some form of negative screening in their portfolios to eliminate companies misaligned with their values, only 11% allocate capital to impact investing.[10] This is an exciting chance for Christians to partner with Creator God (as well as fund managers and entrepreneurs) in innovating and designing companies that are making the world better for the marginalized. Strategic impact investing provides an 

opportunity for Christians to be known for what we are “for”—creativity, compassion, equity, stewardship of the Earth, opportunity for all, and loving others—versus only for what we are against by participating solely in divestment strategies. 

Not only is it our call as believers to intentionally consider the role of capital in loving our neighbors, but private capital is also the key to solving global social and environmental issues that cannot be solved with philanthropic dollars alone. In the United States, the amount of investment capital available is 10x that of annual charitable giving and government spending combined.[11] Imagine a world where all $52 trillion of professionally managed assets was invested according to generative values, supporting market-based solutions to global and domestic issues. While philanthropy plays an important role in social change, engaging across the asset class spectrum—from public equities to private debt to real estate—gives Christian investors a full set of levers to strategically press on in order to move the needle on the complex issues we really care about. 

And finally, the more we learn, the more responsibility we have. Not only are we more aware of the smoke from the hood reminding us of underlying structural issues, but we also have more market-driven solutions available to us than we have ever had. There is a growing amount of evidence pointing to the strong financial performance of impact investments across public and private market asset classes over time.[12] There is an impact investing ecosystem that has exploded, with all the major asset managers and financial institutions on board. We have clearer impact measurement data, looking not just at direct impact but also at the 

intersectional and secondary impact of investments. 

Starting this journey—this journey of engaging all of our resources in creating an optimal world for all—can feel intimidating. At my firm, Align Impact, we spend 100% of our time and resources finding the most impactful investments across asset classes and building out customized strategies with our clients based on their impact and financial priorities. I am deeply passionate about walking alongside investors who want to tactically utilize their resources to participate in the redemptive work happening around us. After years of living in the divide between nonprofit and for-profit activities, I transitioned into impact investing as a way to integrate my love into my decision making and as a way to support others in the same journey of intentionality. 

Being part of a “great reset” is not unique to Christians. Having roles of authority, influence, and the power to make decisions which affect the lives of others aren’t solely Christian privileges. What should set Christians apart, however, is the motivation with which we approach these conversations: through first knowing our neighbors and then by challenging ourselves to love them in deeper, more strategic ways, all from a mindset of abundance —knowing that we have all we need in Jesus. 





[1] https://www.stlouisfed.org/open-vault/2020/december/has-wealth-inequality-changed-over time-key-statistics 

[2] https://oxfamilibrary.openrepository.com/bitstream/handle/10546/621149/bp-the 

inequality-virus-250121-en.pdf 

[3] https://www.cdc.gov/healthywater/global/wash_statistics.html 

[4] https://www.dol.gov/sites/dolgov/files/ILAB/child_labor_reports/tda2019 

/2020_TVPRA_List_Online_Final.pdf 

[5] Matthew 25:40 

[6] Matthew 5:3-12 

[7] Luke 14:12-14 

[8] Matthew 21:12-13 

[9] “The Divine Dance” Richard Rohr 

[10] GIIN 2020 

[11] Giving USA, Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, US SIF 

[12] https://www.greenbiz.com/article/downturn-signals-opportunity-climate-aligned 

investing,https://thegiin.org/assets