Take a moment to imagine a vision of a “just city.” What does this city look like? What does it feel like? What does it smell or sound like? What do you see in that city? What don’t you see?
Now compare that vision to the reality of Washington, D.C.
If your imagination is anything like mine, there’s quite a chasm between the vision you conjured and the status quo. You don’t have to look far to see injustices sprawled across the District: inequitable access to education, health care and food; cultural displacement; disenfranchisement; and of course homelessness and housing insecurity, to name a few.
Each year thousands of D.C. residents live—and more than 100 die—without the dignity of a home. Tens of thousands of households spend the majority of their paychecks on housing, leaving little else for other necessities. More than a thousand kids lack a stable address, sometimes jumping from school to school.
But in a just city, no one lives or dies on the street. In a just city, no one spends more than half their income to keep a roof over their head. In a just city, everyone has a home.
When it comes to housing, D.C. is not yet the just city we long to see. But I believe that it can be.
We can easily feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of the injustices we face. It’s enough to make us want to shut down and give up, believing we’re never going to reach anything resembling justice. But that can’t be the answer.
As a Christian, I cannot accept that answer. When I imagine a vision of a just city, I am inspired by the foundational text of my faith: a vision of a new heaven and new earth that God communicates to the prophet Isaiah, recorded in the Old Testament of the Bible. In this new heaven and new earth, there is a city filled with joy and delight and devoid of suffering, people live out their full lives, those who build houses are able to actually live in them, and those who plant crops reap the benefits of their labor (Isaiah 65:17-25). It’s a beautiful vision, where all of creation — human, animal, nature — can flourish in wholeness, with people living as their full, authentic selves.
As part of that creation, I’m called to not only dream about this beautiful vision, but actively pursue it by partnering in the restorative work that the God I believe in is already doing on this earth and embodying the wholeness and flourishing that defines true justice.
Across the District, faith communities are already doing this critical, meaningful work pushing back against housing injustice. Groups like Washington Interfaith Network are organizing and advocating, churches are opening their doors to unhoused neighbors to help meet basic needs, and multiple houses of worship have built affordable housing on their own property, adding critical supply to close the gap in availability.
The rest of us need to step up and add to these efforts. In my work I have seen that most churches understand that housing is an issue. They recognize the call to engage in housing justice, yet don’t know how. The initiative that I work on, Just Homes, exists to answer that question. We mobilize and equip churches in the D.C. area to meet the affordable housing needs of the region. We help resource churches as institutions and church members as individuals to live out their calling to pursue and embody housing justice.
So what does this look like? No one can do everything, but everyone can do something. And we can learn from each other as we figure out what that something is.
A good first step is to learn about the nature of housing injustice in D.C. Don’t jump straight to answers without taking time to learn about the problems. This step isn’t for everyone. Many faith communities have lived experiences with housing injustice—churches getting displaced as their congregants are priced out of their neighborhoods, vulnerable congregations forced to sell their property, historic buildings turned into luxury condos. But predominantly-white churches and new churches need to do the work to understand housing injustice in D.C. We must unpack the history of systemic injustice and racial discrimination in housing, and the ways in which racism and dehumanization are embedded in the structures and plans for the District. And we need to listen to those with lived experience with homelessness, gentrification and displacement.
A key part of this education is repentance and lament. We must reflect on our own complicity in these injustices and employ the biblical practice of lament to sit with that complicity. Have startup churches played a role in displacing historic churches? How are newcomers fueling the housing crisis? Lamenting injustice, self-interrogating and owning our roles in unjust systems is a key part of this education step.
But we can’t stop there. Education without action is incomplete. Next, we must engage. We must find ways to take this understanding and channel it into active participation in the ongoing efforts to address these inequities.
Maybe this looks like community participation. Start by learning what is already happening in your neighborhood. What community groups are at work meeting tangible needs and addressing systemic issues? Instead of starting something new, lend your gifts and resources to existing causes, led by those experiencing housing insecurity themselves. Enter with humility and self-awareness and find out how you can contribute. Start by listening.
Stay informed about what’s happening in your community. Get on your Advisory Neighborhood Commission mailing list, community listserv, or neighborhood newsletter. Pay attention to what kind of development is coming to your neighborhood. How much affordable housing is included? Who is fighting against it? Who is supporting it? Ask yourself how it relates to the ultimate vision: a just city where everyone has a home. Will this development get us closer to that vision? Move us backwards? How can you advocate for the presence of justice in this process?
Are there conversations in your neighborhood surrounding tent communities or rules for parks and public spaces? Is the rhetoric dehumanizing and othering? How can you be a voice for justice in those discussions?
What do your elected officials have to say about housing justice? What is their record? Have you told them how you feel? We have direct access to local elected officials who make decisions every day that can take the District closer to that vision of justice. Seize that opportunity.
Consider your resources: financial, professional, circumstantial. What passions, gifts, or experiences do you have that can be put to work toward housing justice? What networks are you a part of, where do you have influence? Take stock of where you’re situated, what privilege or power you have and consider how you can put that to work in pursuit of housing justice.
And of course, people of faith must be in a constant posture of prayer, inviting the Holy Spirit to guide us, show us when to take a lead and when to follow. The gap between our vision of a just city and our current reality is wide, but as a Christian I believe that with God all things are possible, and that includes realizing a vision of wholeness and flourishing.
So let’s join in the good work that is already happening around us, keeping this image of a just city where everyone has a home at the center of all we do. May the vision keep us pressing forward when we are weary, give us hope when all we feel is despair. The vision is big and bold, but it is within reach.
Shiri Yadlin is the director of Just Homes, a church-led initiative that mobilizes and equips faith communities to respond to the affordable housing crisis in D.C.
