Outreach: Day 1

We experienced our first day of door-to-door outreach today. We spent our time in a neighborhood on the east side of the city -- in terms of socioeconomic status, neither the worst neighborhood, nor the best. Neither is it the safest neighborhood, nor the most dangerous. There is poverty in this area, and there are abandoned houses, and in the several blocks we walked, covering less than a square mile, there were three burned-down houses -- burned down most likely by arsonists. These characteristics fit with the picture of Flint that's commonly painted by the news.

But there are people here, too -- people with hope and the desire to reclaim a city from violence, injustice, and a slow economy. And no picture of Flint could be complete without considering these people. They're moved to pray for the city's recovery, for the safety of its residents, for guidance for its children, and for jobs. But at least one man we met described common feelings among his neighbors -- the feelings of having no representation in municipal government and of being inadequately served by police and fire departments. We'll call this man J.

At the end of J's block, a telephone pole lays across the sidewalk. It was struck by a car, the driver of which staggered around the accident scene, smoking marijuana after the collision. J said it took two hours for police to arrive; in that time, the driver abandoned the scene. J says police response was similar when several neighbors reported vandals stealing aluminum siding from one house. And so the neighborhood feels overlooked -- like no one cares.

Enter our door-to-door outreach. We're not expressly encouraging conversion to the Catholic faith; instead, we're letting people know that someone cares about what's going on. We missionaries can't right the wrongs that have occurred here, but we can let people know that we're praying for them, and that we'll pray for whatever concerns them.

This is a neighborhood where people answer the door with looks of suspicion on their faces, often greeting us from behind screens, within the safety of their homes. With everything that's happened here, that's not surprising. But it's truly amazing to see that suspicion turn to relief. I'm convinced that these may be the most authentic facial expressions I've ever witnessed, in that the people we've met have been so surprised, but so relieved, that someone cares about their concerns, that they become willing to acknowledge, to admit that they're concerned. Their surprise overtakes their guarded suspicion, offering respite from the reservations they may have about anyone who knocks at their doors.

And so an experience that began with some anxiety ended very fruitfully. Sure, some people refused to answer the door, or turned us away. But we left the neighborhood with a long list of intentions, and prayed for each one in the chapel at St. Michael's.

It's worth noting that before we left, J found us again -- an hour or so after we first talked with him. He invited us to a neighborhood Bible study, held in his neighbor N's yard. N's fences

are covered with a wide range of sports and motorcycle memorabilia, as well as some of the hot-rod art of Ed "Big Daddy" Roth (including the famous Rat Fink). N welcomed us, along with J, and their friend M, and we talked for an hour or so about how God moves through Flint -- and about the wonder that brought these three neighbors together with five missionaries, all of whom hope to see this city renewed.