Tag Archives: compassion

When Our Neighborhood Schools Struggle, What Does It Mean to Love Our Neighbor?

Texas released its 2026 A–F school accountability ratings this week, and there was some encouraging news for Austin ISD. The district received an overall B rating, and many individual campuses performed well.

But here in 78757, the news hits a little closer to home. Burnet Middle School received an F rating for the fifth consecutive year. Webb Middle School received the same rating. Under Texas law, those results trigger state intervention that could ultimately include closing the campuses or replacing Austin ISD’s elected board with a state-appointed board of managers.

For those of us who live, work, worship and raise families in north central Austin, it would be easy to see this as simply an Austin ISD problem. But Burnet Middle School isn’t somewhere else. It’s right across the street from where we meet as a church family. 

The students walking into Burnet Middle School are part of the same community we call home. And I think it’s possible to care deeply about those students while also asking difficult questions about how we got here, because caring doesn’t mean ignoring responsibility.

RAISING CHILDREN IN AISD

Our family spent more than a decade in Austin ISD. Over those years, we watched families leave for charter schools, private schools and other educational options. At different points, when I had the opportunity, I shared with administrators some of what I was hearing from parents and students about why they were leaving.

I didn’t always get the sense that those concerns were taken seriously. Obviously, the challenges facing Austin ISD are more complicated than any one explanation. Austin is changing. There are fewer school-age children in some parts of the city. School funding is complicated. The pandemic accelerated enrollment losses. Charter and private schools have created additional competition.

But at some point, leadership also has to ask why families who once chose AISD stopped choosing it. AISD now serves just over 69,000 students, more than 14,000 fewer than it did a decade ago. That’s not something we should celebrate. And it shouldn’t simply become another opportunity for people on different sides of the education debate to say, “See, I told you so.”

ACCOUNTABILITY AND COMPASSION

Instead, maybe moments like this require two things that we sometimes have difficulty holding together: accountability and compassion. Accountability asks, “How did we get here?” Compassion asks, “What do we do now?” We need both. An F tells us something important about academic performance. It doesn’t tell us everything about the people inside the building.

There are teachers walking into classrooms every morning trying to help students learn. There are parents trying to figure out how to help their children succeed. There are administrators carrying enormous responsibility.

And there are middle school students trying to navigate all the normal awkwardness of being 12 or 13 years old while also facing significant academic challenges. Those students didn’t make the decisions that brought Austin ISD to this point.

Neither did the teacher standing in front of them on Tuesday morning. So, perhaps the question for those of us living in 78757 isn’t simply: whose fault is this? Maybe there’s another question we can ask as a follower of Jesus? What does faithfulness look like now?

WHO IS MY NEIGHBOR?

Jesus was once asked a fairly straightforward question: “Who is my neighbor?” His response was the story we now call the Good Samaritan. What’s interesting is that Jesus doesn’t spend much time explaining why the man was lying beside the road. He turns our attention toward the people who see him and asks what they’re going to do about it.

Loving our neighbor doesn’t require us to pretend bad decisions don’t have consequences. Compassion doesn’t require us to excuse poor leadership. And accountability doesn’t require us to stop caring about the people affected by it. We can do both. We can expect institutions to listen, learn and change. And we can move toward the people who are struggling right now.

At North Village Church, we’ve been asking a question lately: who are we becoming as a church family? I think moments like this give us an opportunity to answer that question. We want to become people who notice. People willing to ask hard questions without becoming cynical. It’s hard! 

There will be plenty of conversations in the coming months about Austin ISD, the Texas Education Agency, school choice, funding and who bears responsibility for what has happened. Those conversations matter. But we don’t have to resolve every one of them before deciding what kind of neighbors we’re going to be in 78757.

WANT TO HELP?

We are in process of seeing how we can be helpful as a church family. It’s not the kind of help that will turn everything around overnight, but it is the kind of help to do something. If you would like to be involved with time or financial donation, email admin@northvillagechurch.com to get involved.

Engaging in Immigration Conversations with Compassion

What do you do in those moments when you are at work or a family gathering, and someone makes a reference toward a cultural / political event? Fight or flight or freeze? One of those cultural conversations right now is around immigration, and now more than ever we need to be learning how to lean into those conversations instead of avoid.

As a follower of Jesus, immigration isn’t just a political issue, it’s a people issue. It’s also deeply theological. And as someone who believes the gospel shapes every corner of life, including how we talk about borders and belonging—I’ve been asking, How do I speak about immigration in a way that’s faithful to Scripture and neighborly in spirit?

Especially in a place like Austin, a city that prides itself on being inclusive, justice-oriented, and wonderfully weird, the way we engage matters just as much as what we say, therefore, I wanted to provide some encouragement when we find ourselves in those conversations.

Let me offer some reflections on how we can enter this conversation winsomely: with truth, compassion, and humility.

Start with Stories, Not Soundbites

Most people have an immigration story, whether it’s their great-grandparents who came through Ellis Island or a neighbor who crossed a desert last year. Stories have a way of softening walls that data and debate only harden.

I recently met a man whose journey to the U.S. took over a year, and the process for him to get citizenship in the United States took over 10 years! But the real story wasn’t how far he traveled, it was why.

He had been manipulated by people in his country that told him they had created a way for him to get into the country legally, and it was expensive! Him and his family gave them so much money, only to find out the process was to sneak him into the country.

When we begin with real people, we remind everyone that immigration isn’t just a policy issue. It’s a person issue.

Root the Conversation in Shared Values

As a follower of Jesus, I start with this: every person is made in the image of God. That’s non-negotiable. And because of that, I’m called to care to care about others and extend compassion toward those who are hurting or struggling.

At the same time, I also believe in the importance of order, justice, and systems that work. That doesn’t make me cold-hearted. It means I care about both compassion and structure, and I don’t believe we have to choose one or the other.

That’s the tension many of us feel: How do we love our neighbor and respect our nation’s laws? That’s a holy tension, not a political problem.

Understanding Austin’s Heartbeat

Austin, where I’ve planted roots, is a city of contrasts. It’s progressive, but still deeply Texan. It values independence, but also community. It welcomes everyone, while being a fairly divided city ethnically and economically.

Here’s where I find common ground:

  • Austin values about justice — and, as a follower of Jesus, so do I.
  • Austin values diversity — and, as a follower of Jesus, so does the kingdom of God.
  • Austin believes in local action over national gridlock — and the Church has always been a grassroots movement.

But there are also tensions:

  • Austin often resists institutional voices, and as a pastor, I get lumped into that category.
  • The city prefers nuance over certainty, and my biblical convictions can sound too rigid if I’m not careful with tone.
  • Some reject the idea of borders altogether, while I believe in the value of lawfully ordered immigration.

Knowing these dynamics helps me approach conversations with humility, not just truth.

How to Talk About Immigration Without Starting a Fire

Here are a few ways I’ve learned to engage the conversation, especially with neighbors, coworkers, or congregants:

  • Ask better questions:
    “What’s your family’s immigration story?” “What challenges does Austin experience because of immigration?” “How do you think a city like Austin benefits from immigration?” “What would a just system look like to you?”
  • Name the tension:
    “I feel caught between the heartbreak of broken systems and the need for secure borders. But I want to be someone who listens more than lectures.”
  • Focus on people, not politics:
    We can disagree on policy and still agree that every person deserves dignity.

The Church’s Role in a Time of Division

The early church was full of immigrants, refugees, outcasts, and people who didn’t “belong.” Paul says in Ephesians 2:19, “You are no longer strangers and aliens, but fellow citizens with God’s people and members of His household.” That’s the kind of community we’re called to build.

The gospel doesn’t erase borders, but it does erase hostility.

What would happen if we, regardless of political leanings, followers of Jesus became known for welcoming the outsider, respecting rules and laws, advocating for justice, and treating every person as someone Jesus died for? Sure, it’s a lofty goal but that’s the opportunity for the local church in this conversation today.

A Path Forward

Let’s not settle for the shouting match. Let’s become porch people, not just protesting people. Let’s build conversations and learn from one another. Let’s lean into conversations instead of avoiding topics. And let’s trust that the God who watches over nations also sees every individual soul.

If you’d like to explore ways to serve immigrants in Austin, we have a group of people from the Ukraine who meet regularly in our building and a church from Nepal who gather in worship on Sunday afternoon’s. These are great people and great ways to get a front row view into their experience.