Muhammad said, “None of you will have faith until he loves for his brother, and his neighbor, what he loves for himself,” and “He is not a believer whose stomach is filled while his neighbor goes hungry.”Across faiths, the advice is simple, yet profound: Compassion builds trust and community, values we can use today. “Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?” Jesus asks, receiving the response, “He that shewed mercy on him.” His advice? “Go, and do thou likewise” (Luke 10:36-37).In Islam, neighbors and guests hold a place of high honor with specific and practical rights, including visiting them when ill, sharing food and gifts, and even tolerating annoyances. Yet, this memory reminds me that faith traditions are rich with guidance on honoring the visitor and the neighbor, for good reason.The early Jews’ experience as slaves in Egypt provides a fount of lessons in morality and compassion, evident in this passage from Leviticus: “You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” Perhaps most famous is the foundational commandment, “Love thy neighbour as thyself” (Leviticus 19:18).In the New Testament of the Bible, Jesus tells the story of a Samaritan who cares for an injured traveler left for dead on the roadside – and ignored by two other passersby. Today, door-knocking is viewed with suspicion, and tragically, occasionally met with violence. Now, I treasure the openness, curiosity, and sincerity of both those visitors and my dad.

The visit lasted close to an hour, and soon became a regular occurrence anytime Jehovah’s Witnesses knocked. As a child, I would roll my eyes at the intrusions.

They shared their faith then my dad shared his, Islam. My dad opened the door wide, smiled, and welcomed them into the living room, offering them cups of tea.

I peeked out the window to find a pair of suit-clad Jehovah’s Witnesses, and promptly retreated – from what I’d heard, most people avoided them. Ding-dong! It was the mid-’90s, in my childhood home in rural central New York, where we didn’t frequently get visitors.

Matthew desmond poverty by america