Saturday, July 16, 2011

Fruitful Fridays

Life in Flint has not ceased to be fantastic. Even our days off (Fridays) are filled with fruitful transformation. Two weeks ago, we joined the Ypsilanti cousins in Detroit for the day. To start off, Ed Conlin allowed us all to sit in on an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting at the Capuchin Soup Kitchen. Very moving stories were shared, which made for a very amazing experience. One woman absolutely blew my mind and I am so grateful that she was able to share her story with us and others. She could have produced a touching story relying solely on her experiences being abused as a child, I’m sure, but the fact that it happened was all that was mentioned. Previously a crack addict, one night she was hit in the back with a fire bomb; pronounced dead for 36 minutes. I can’t even imagine how the medical examiner felt when she sat up on the table in the morgue. 76% of her body had been severely burned. After returning back to life, she was in a coma for 2 ½ months. They were not expecting her to survive, and thought if she did, she’d be a vegetable. What a miracle! Although she got out of a fatal experience alive, she resorted back to the crack. Then, four years later, she was tortured. Someone intended to kill her via fire and she was lit up for quite some time. In response to her calm reaction, the torturer eventually put it out and apologized. Her feelings of shame for being treated in the hospital for burns a second time woke her up and she has been clean for the six years since the incident. This woman gave so much hope to all of us. She had gone through so much and found what was really meaningful in life. Finding a relationship with God enabled her to work through her struggles and use her story to inspire others.

After the meeting, we were able to join the community for the lunch that was served. After asking permission, I sat with a woman sitting alone at a table. She said she was doing well, but proceeded to close her eyes and they were fluttering a bit. Her mouth was also pursed. It was apparent that she was struggling with something, so I again asked her if everything was all right. She admitted that it wasn’t, but that she just wanted to get her food and leave. I didn’t want to push her to share, but made sure she knew I was more than willing to listen if she changed her mind. I was hopeful that she would change her mind, but that never happened. A man came to sit at the table and the three of us conversed a little bit. The guy was hesitant, but she did manage to get a dollar from him. When it was our turn to get food, the guy didn’t return right away and I saw him standing next to various different tables across the room. Because of this, I was feeling nervous; for I told another person in line planning to sit there that someone was already sitting in that place. I felt like a liar for a while, but he did ultimately return. When he did come back, he had no tray, but three pieces of [delicious] cake wrapped up. He informed us that he had sold his meal to someone else for $2.50. This blew my mind and I did not want this man to go without food. Because I’m spoiled with food access and I was concerned, I offered him what was left on my tray. I’d only already eaten the salad and about half of the vegetable salad. He declined my offer and half-mumbled something about planning to eat at home. I wasn’t convinced, but we were abruptly interrupted. The woman had gotten upset and said to the man, “I don’t know who this person is, but if you sat at my table you can talk to me. But if you two are going to talk to each other, you can go sit somewhere else.” Somewhat shocked, we quieted down and continued eating. He eventually left, so it was back to just the woman and me. When I was ready to dump my tray, I still had a piece of bread I wasn’t planning to eat. Although afraid to talk to her at that point, I offered the slice to her. She pulled out her bag of pens and asked if I wanted to buy one for a dollar. I didn’t. She told me, “If you don’t want a pen, then I don’t need your bread.” I had no idea how to respond and can’t really remember how I actually did. After dumping my tray, I awkwardly returned back to my spot and drank my Capri Sun.

At that point, two men at the table next to me started talking to me. It was difficult to hear across the tables and I was afraid to upset the woman again, so I moved over to their table. I was able to share information about CUP with them and they made fun of me for being from North Dakota. It was a lot of fun and a relieving change of environment. Although the experience with the woman was difficult and I had no idea how to react the whole time, I’m glad it happened. So many of the people we have encountered so far have been incredibly open, but we can’t forget about those who aren’t. They are in much deeper need for our love, so we surely can’t exclude them because they are more difficult to reach. From this whole experience, I have gained a greater appreciation for people. Everybody has endured so much in their lives and all of our experiences are so different. You can never tell where anyone is coming from and we are in no position to judge where they might be coming from.

--Mikayla

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Urban Renewal

Father Gary McGinnis presided over Mass today at St. Michael's. He also presided over the Mass we attended on Friday at the Genesee County Jail. When he ministers at the jail, he uses the readings from the following Sunday. So on both Friday and today, our group heard the readings for the fifteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time. For that reason, Fr. McGinnis told us on Friday that the homily for Sunday would be similar, almost the same -- so it would have been easy to be inattentive because of the familiarity.

The readings are about hope and renewal, and our growth in faith (Isaiah 55:10-11, Romans 8:18-23, Matthew 13:1-23). Those themes were wonderfully apparent throughout today's Mass, beautifully relevant for the St. Michael parish, and thoughtfully related by Fr. McGinnis in the homily. In fact, I would say even my understanding of his homily was renewed; even though I heard it just on Friday, the message was completely renewed and I was re-inspired. I can't say enough how beautiful that is.

St. Michael's has a reputation as a dying parish in Flint. It's the mother parish of Genesee County, founded in 1843, and the popular prognosis is that a shrinking congregation and the absence of a dedicated pastor signal the end of the parish, like several others in Flint that have already closed. Fr. McGinnis emphatically challenged that notion, intertwining Christ's parable of the Sower and the Seed with his assertion that St. Michael's can begin anew. And he pointed out that renewal at St. Michael's can't happen without the congregation's willingness to change.

At this point in the homily, Fr. McGinnis asked something of the parish that was an astonishingly simple request, an obvious suggestion, but something that threatens the comfort of one's habits -- something that was challenging and uncomfortable to put into practice. He asked the congregation to move closer together -- to congregate. To sit with each other, as a community, in the first few rows of pews.

There were perhaps sixty people spread throughout the sanctuary. They looked a little astonished, and but almost everyone agreed to move. And the sense of community, of togetherness, immediately increased.

In today's Gospel, Christ says the the seeds in rich soil "produced fruit, a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold" (Matthew 13:8). After the congregation moved together, its "Amen" and its other responses through the rest of the Mass resounded louder and longer throughout the sanctuary -- as if the community, or at least its sense of togetherness, had increased thirtyfold. The rest of Mass felt noticeably more joyful, more intentional. It was beautiful. Hopefully it's another step toward renewal at St. Michael's.

At the conclusion of Mass, a couple celebrating forty years of marriage received a blessing for the anniversary. The husband and wife professed their vows again, firmly promising their continued love, and demonstrating that today's message of renewal carries hope not only for a parish community, but also for two individuals.

You should come to St. Michael's some time.