My Neighbor the Bathroom Attendant

This weekend I walked into the restroom at a busy restaurant/bar in Orlando and stood waiting in the line. In front of me, to the right of the sink stood a woman who, in my 4 inch heels, seemed tiny in height. She was stocky, with wiry silver hair pulled into a bun at the top of her head. Her cracked hand grasped a brown paper towel roll as she turned the water on and off for each woman. She reminded me of my grandmother a little. I glanced down at her feet and noticed they looked swollen in her very worn black flats. I looked up and my eyes met hers. A smile stretched across her face. I returned with a smile and a hello. She nodded.

I watched as she handed paper towel, after paper towel without so much as a thanks or an acknowledgement of her presence. My heart hurt. When it came to my turn, I washed my hands and I looked over at her and asked, “How are you doing, having a good night?” A beautiful but worn-out smile returned as she answered, "Yes ma'am".

I wanted to take her home with me. I told her that I thought she was lovely and with a hug, whispered “You are valued” in her ear. The line of ladies stared as if I had just licked the toilet seat.

A few years ago if you would have asked me if I cared about the woman in the bathroom of my favorite club that gives out the paper towels, I would've most likely looked at you blankly and answered, "Who?". The thing about that scenario is there's a guilt complex. We feel uncomfortable. We feel sorry for them but helpless or bad because we don't have cash for a tip so we ignore them.

As I get to know God better, I’ve recognized that He is calling me to something greater than the self-consumed life I've led. When Jesus first began his ministry, he called on some fishermen to be his disciples (like apprentice's sort of). His exact words were, "Come, follow me and I will make you fishers of men." Seems like an odd proposition, I know. But Jesus didn’t want to change what they knew, he wanted them to use their lives for something more than the next big catch--people.

Jesus came to be living proof that God doesn't care about your job, how much money you make or how many rules you follow.  It wasn’t ever about religion or traditions or how many prayers you pray for Jesus, he reached out to people. He lived to heal, teach, and love people. The "religious" priests and Pharisees (fancy name for, guys who know a lot about scripture) thought they had it all together but instead had it all wrong. They memorized scripture, prayed and obeyed all the "laws" but had little empathy for people.

Belonging to Christ requires two things: love God with everything you are and love your neighbor as yourself. Those are the greatest commandments and offers eternal life according to Jesus. For those of you trying justify not liking or ignoring someone because they don't live next to you, check out Websters definition of neighbor:

neigh·bor [noun]; A person or thing that is near another; one's fellow human being. A person who shows kindliness or helpfulness toward his or her fellow humans

If that's not enough definition, look at the story of the good Samaritan. A guy gets robbed and is left half dead on the side of the road. A priest sees him, crosses to the opposite side and passes by, ignoring him. Then, a second man gives the same reaction. Finally, a Samaritan man stops to help him. Here's where it gets interesting. Within the Jewish culture then Samaritans were considered enemies and traitors to the Hebrew people. Think of it like a Gator fan walking by an injured Nole fan; the likelihood of him helping is slim to none.

Yet this "enemy" not only stops to help the man but takes him to an inn and pays for his stay while he gets well.  This twist on cultural expectations gives the story's major point: the despised schismatic is the model of neighborliness.

Although the Bible doesn't say why the first two didn't help the man, I think it's safe to say, the bother of kindness and discomfort of helping kept the man dying on the road. Getting involved is costly, and for many the investment is too high. But refusing to acknowledge and help is moral malfunction. Nothing defines a “neighbor”—you make the decision to be one or not.

After handing out paper towels to countless people, what would be worth more to you? The occasionally drop of a dollar or someone looking you in the eyes and validating your dignity with a friendly hello?

A smile and a nod to the person standing with you on the elevator. Asking the store clerk by name if they’re having a nice day. Paying for the toll of the guy who honked at you earlier. A hello and a prayer for the homeless man when you have nothing else to give. Sometimes all we can offer isn’t very much but its value goes much further than we give it credit for.

The point is simple. An authentic life = loving God and caring about people.

Won't you be my neighbor?