Created: June 10 2026. Last updated: June 11 2026. Author: Robert Johnson

The Secret to Fruitful Neighboring

Have you ever quoted a verse so often that you forgot where it came from? For years, I regularly did this with one of my favorite verses, “The joy of the Lord is my strength,” assuming it came from Psalms or maybe one of Paul’s letters. Imagine my surprise when I discovered it was actually Nehemiah who spoke it to a grieving people who had recently returned from exile.         

The contextual background makes Nehemiah’s statement even more fascinating. After Jerusalem's walls were rebuilt, the people gathered as one, and the Law was read aloud. As they listened, the people became overwhelmed with sorrow when they realized how far they and their ancestors had wandered from God. In response, Nehemiah provides an unexpected command: “Do not grieve, for the joy of the LORD is your strength" (Nehemiah 8:10). 

The Hebrew word for “strength” used here is multifaceted. Instead of referring only to physical or emotional strength, it evokes the image of a refuge, fortress, or stronghold, a place of safety to run to in times of danger. In other words, Nehemiah was not just telling the people to stop being sad or to somehow manufacture happiness. He was reminding them that their security rested not in their own emotional state but in God's enduring delight, lovingkindness, and faithfulness. The people gathered outside the walls of their newly rebuilt city were invited to run toward a joy beyond themselves and to hide themselves within it. It was a personal invitation into a life of relational abiding with the Triune God Himself.

What Does it Mean to Abide in Christ?
 

I believe this Old Testament image of refuge provides a helpful foundation for understanding the later New Testament theme of abiding, or remaining, as it is often described. In the Gospel of John, delivered somewhere between the Upper Room and Gethsemane, Jesus instructs His disciples in the following way:

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. . . Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing" (John 15:1, 4-5). 

While the imagery may differ from Nehemiah’s, the underlying concept is the same: life, sustenance, and well-being are not to be found within oneself or through one's works, but in Christ alone. Just as in Nehemiah’s day, the key is to remain within. If warring marauders are circling city gates, the safe response is to stay inside. Likewise, if a believer wants to have a fruitful life, they must remain within. The instruction to abide or remain within is not to withhold full life from a person. Instead, it enhances life itself. Stephen Seamands, in Ministry in the Image of God, describes such fullness not as “comprehension or communication, but communion with God.” Abiding, then, is not merely knowing about Christ but sharing life with Him. It’s the difference between studying a map and dwelling in the country depicted.

Practically speaking, abiding is cultivated through the ordinary means by which God meets His people. John Wesley refers to these as means of grace. These include searching the Scriptures, prayer, fasting, receiving communion, worship, Christian community, and acts of neighborly compassion. Abiding is personal, yet communal. We remain in Christ individually, but never alone.

Personally, the greatest threats to my abiding in Christ are often self-related. Sometimes I fall into the temptation to define myself by the value I perceive myself to be giving. As Seamands goes on to describe, “The greatest competitor of devotion to Jesus is service for him. Too often we love our ministry more than we love God.” Fruitfulness is not produced by striving harder but by remaining connected to the Source of the fruit.

Neighboring carries this temptation in a unique way. When needs are endless, and opportunities to serve are everywhere, it becomes easy to believe our value comes from what we accomplish. We can begin measuring ourselves by projects completed, requests met, or problems solved. Yet Jesus reminds us that fruitfulness does not begin with activity. It begins with abiding.

 

How Does a Life of Abiding Form Us for Neighboring Well?
 

In John 15, Jesus uses the imagery of a vine with branches and fruit to explain how His followers must conceptualize a life of impactful ministry. The metaphor was not unintentional. As the Gardener tends the Vine and the Vine nourishes the branches, the inevitable result is the development of fruit. In this case, the fruitful result is grapes. Wine is the ultimate achievement of grapes. But is wine created from a single grape? And who is the wine made for, the singular grape or partakers beyond the grape?

Fruit is not borne for the sake of itself. The grape does not exist to become a better grape. Likewise, the Christian life cannot be solely concerned with personal growth or siloed knowledge. Rather, the fruit of abiding is produced to nourish others. Ministry becomes the natural result of a life connected to Christ, not the result of effort or ambition. As Jesus makes clear, branches do not strain to produce fruit. Their primary responsibility is to remain connected to the vine so that the vine may do the hard work.

In neighboring, this means our formation is never merely private. Christ forms us so that His life may overflow into the lives of others. The fruit produced through abiding is meant to nourish neighbors, strengthen communities, and reveal the character of Christ in tangible ways.

This has far-reaching implications. In an achievement-based culture that prizes productivity and platforms, Christ directs our attention elsewhere. Branch health is inextricably tied to the quality of the fruit. Character matters. Ethical leadership, integrity, and humility are not traits we produce through striving and willpower. They are cultivated only as we remain in Christ and allow His life to flow through our own.

Finally, abiding is deeply communal. A vineyard is not a solitary branch growing on its own in a hidden field. Each branch is part of a family, all connected to the same vine and nourished by the same Source. In Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer reminds extroverts and introverts alike that "the Christian. . . belongs not in the seclusions of a cloistered life." The end goal of Christian ministry is not about the journey of me and Jesus, but the fruitfulness of lives lived out in communal worship, accountability, encouragement, correction, and service for others.

This challenges the radical individualism that shapes much of modern life. We often imagine faith as a private matter, but Scripture consistently moves in the opposite direction. We are connected to Christ and therefore connected to one another. Neighboring becomes one practical expression of that reality. We bear burdens together, celebrate together, grieve together, and learn that following Jesus was never intended to be a solitary pursuit.

 

Permanent Residents
 

When Nehemiah proclaimed that "the joy of the LORD is your strength," an invitation was extended to find refuge in Something beyond themselves. Ultimately, their security did not rest in rebuilt walls or even heartfelt grief. Their safety was found in God alone. In many ways, it is the same invitation Jesus extends to His followers throughout the Gospel of John. To abide in Christ is to dwell within the very life of God. To find nourishment, identity, purpose, and security in Him rather than in our own strength or accomplishments.

For those called into ministry (including neighboring), this truth is not only comforting but also necessary. The temptation to measure our worth by self-made standards will always be present. But the way of Jesus directs us elsewhere. "Come and see," He says. Remain in Me. Abide in me.

If Nehemiah's image is correct, then the joy of the Lord remains our refuge still today. It’s not a temporary shelter in times of crisis. Instead, we are permanent residents abiding in good times and in bad. And from that place of safety, we are sent beyond the gates into the world to bear much fruit that will endure.

Perhaps neighboring begins there: not with striving harder, but with abiding more deeply. As permanent residents in the refuge of God's joy, we are free to move toward others with the same love, presence, and generosity that Christ has first shown to us.


Robert Johnson is the Director of Formation at NeighborLink. Before stepping into this role, he served for six years on staff with NeighborLink Fort Wayne, most recently as Director of Communications and Development. Robert enjoys telling stories about neighbors and the transformational impact of neighboring. Outside of work, he loves traveling with his family, reading, and pursuing a life shaped by the Gospel.