Jubilee Life Coach: Daily Meditations

Who Is Our Neighbor?

• Jubilee Christian Life Coach • Season 1

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In one Seoul neighborhood, knees met the floor twice in nine years.

On the evening of September 17, 2026, a woman in a light blue jacket knelt on the floor of a school in Gangseo-gu, Seoul. She was Cho Myung-sook, the principal of Yeomyung School (여명학교). Yeomyung is the only alternative school in Seoul that gives accredited middle and high school education to young people from North Korea. About a hundred students study there.

The evening was a residents' briefing. The Seoul Office of Education plans to build on the grounds of a closed elementary school, the old Yeomgang Elementary. Ninety percent of the land would go to a center for early childhood education. Ten percent would go to Yeomyung, with the two kept on separate paths. The school has borrowed the empty building since August 2023. That arrangement ends this coming February.

Many residents want the early childhood center alone. That evening, voices rose. The principal of a nearby public high school tried to share what he had seen of Yeomyung over three years as its neighbor. Opponents cut him off. Principal Cho knelt.

Then a voice came over a loudspeaker. It belonged to an official of the residents' opposition committee: "Everyone! We should kneel too." Four or five residents hurried forward and knelt in front of her. The SBS report describes them as kneeling as if racing one another. Some of them, still on their knees, loudly told her to leave.

I cannot see into anyone's heart. But I can see what happened. Knees bent on a signal from a loudspeaker, by people telling her to leave, make a counter-move. One newspaper wrote that they knelt so as not to be outdone. It was a performance. Her knees asked for room. Theirs answered no.

One voice from the room was printed in the press just as it was spoken: "Just go to the countryside. Land is cheaper there!"

It was not her first time. In 2019 the school tried to move to Eunpyeong-gu. Residents opposed it, and the plan fell through. She knelt then too.


The same floor, nine years earlier

Gangseo-gu has seen this before. Seojin School (서진학교) is a public school for students with developmental disabilities. It teaches them from the elementary grades through vocational training. In November 2013, the Seoul Office of Education announced it would build the school on the grounds of a closed elementary school in Gayang-dong. At the time, Gangseo-gu had only one small private special school. Many disabled children rode long distances to schools in neighboring Guro-gu.

The plan met fierce resistance. Many residents wanted the land for a national Korean medicine hospital, which their lawmaker had promised during his campaign. Public meetings turned into shouting. On September 5, 2017, at a second debate, mothers of disabled children knelt one by one before the residents who opposed the school. They asked for one thing: that their children could go to a school near home.

Yeomyung sits in Gayang-dong too. Same neighborhood. Nine years apart.

The photograph of those mothers on their knees went around the country, and public opinion turned. The 2021 documentary 『학교 가는 길』 (literally, "the way to school") by Kim Jung-in tells the whole story. Seojin School finally opened in March 2020, seven years after it was first announced. In 2021 its building won the grand prize of the Seoul Architecture Awards. In August 2025, parents knelt again, this time outside the Seoul Metropolitan Council, for a special school planned in Seongdong-gu.

In Korea, buildings like these are often called 혐오시설, "facilities people hate." It is a hard word to say about a school.


What fear says out loud

To be fair, residents give reasons. Some say no one told them about an earlier briefing in August. Some say they understood the school would stay only three years. Some worry about traffic and noise beside a center for small children. These concerns deserve a hearing, and the Office of Education has said it will keep meeting with residents.

But under many fights like this in Korea lies one quiet question. What will this do to the price of my apartment?

Someone has studied that question. A 2018 paper by Lee Jae-yoon and Seo Won-seok examined apartment resale prices around special schools in Seoul. They found that the location of a special school was not a significant factor in nearby prices. The fear is real. The research simply does not back it up.

This summer many Koreans watched the JTBC drama The Apartment Job (『아파트』) on Netflix. It is fiction. A former gang boss runs for president of a residents' council so he can get his hands on 17.8 billion won sitting in the building's long-term repair reserve. We laughed because we knew that world. For many Korean families, the apartment is also the retirement plan. It was the one ladder that seemed to work when little else did.

Jesus named this master.

"No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money."

Matthew 6:24, ESV

The very next verse begins with "Therefore." "Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life" (Matthew 6:25, ESV). Jesus speaks of money and anxiety in the same breath. Mammon is a master that pays its servants in fear.

So I go back to that school floor. Knees bent before a principal. But before whom were they really bent? The opposition committee says the problem is procedure. One resident who attended the meeting remarked that, in the end, it was probably about real estate. I cannot rule on any one person's heart. But I know this. One day, "at the name of Jesus every knee should bow" (Philippians 2:10, ESV). Until that day, our knees bend toward something. When the price of an apartment can bring us to our knees in public, against a school for refugee children, I believe Mammon received worship that evening, dressed as humility.

And before I point at anyone, I have to ask where my own knees bend.


You were once strangers
"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: I am the LORD your God." Leviticus 19:34, ESV

"Love the sojourner, therefore, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt." Deuteronomy 10:19, ESV

Israel was told to remember. You know this feeling. You were there.

Korea has its own Egypt. On December 2, 1945, twenty-seven refugees from the North began a small church in Seoul called Bethany Evangelical Church. Today it is Youngnak Church. As more refugees came south, the church grew quickly. It pitched tents on the empty ground around the sanctuary for refugees who had no home. Many families in the South still carry stories of that road.

Yeomyung School came out of that same memory. During North Korea's great famine of the 1990s, churches and individuals who were sending aid and sheltering defectors joined hands to found it. The school's motto speaks of fearing God, loving people, and making the nation one. Its students include young people from the North and children born to defectors in China and other countries. They have walked a road much like the one many of our grandparents walked.


The guests who cannot repay

"He said also to the man who had invited him, 'When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.'"--Luke 14:12-14, ESV

Jesus said this at a dinner. He was eating at the house of a ruler of the Pharisees (Luke 14:1). The guests were watching who sat where. Jesus turned to the host and rewrote his guest list.

Look at who He names. The poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind. He asks the host to set a table and bring them in.

Tim Keller called the widow, the orphan, the immigrant, and the poor "the quartet of the vulnerable." In Generous Justice he argued that grace makes people just. A heart that knows it was received for free begins to receive others.

Michael Horton puts it well in the journal of Reformed Theological Seminary. Justification, he writes, gives us a Father instead of a judge. It also gives us neighbors instead of threats.

"...we get neighbors instead of threats."

Michael Horton, Reformed Faith & Practice (2021)

If my standing before God does not depend on my neighbor, I am free to serve my neighbor. If my security does not depend on the price of my apartment, I am free to welcome a school.

One hard part remains. Jesus' table has room for the residents who shouted, too. They cannot repay Him either. Neither can I.

Jesus also told us how this story ends. On the last day, the King will sit on His glorious throne. To some He will say, "I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me." To others He will say, "I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me." Both groups are surprised. Both ask the same question. Lord, when did we see You? And the King answers, "Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me" (Matthew 25:35, 42-43, 40, ESV).

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