Thinking about Flint: Homecomings of the absurd.
One would expect that the flame of the Spirit would inspire a more energetic response than I mustered a few weeks ago. Not that it was lethargy that brought me to this point. In fact, it was an interview on Michigan Radio in which holy exhortation came in the form of a social worker from the University of Michigan calling for social workers to come to Flint to assist in meeting the needs of residents as Michiganders and outlanders came together to respond to crisis.
Since my position as a substance abuse therapist was coming to an end, and I spent the first decade of my life on Flint's southwest side, it struck me that if the gospel calls for us to love our neighbor, tells us that prodigals can come home, and, that the Christ-centered response to suffering is to sacrifice, perhaps volunteering in Flint as a social worker is a means of embodying the gospel, my Quaker faith, and the relationships that I build as a member of the Church of the Brethren. I'm not convinced that going to Flint full time is a manner of bearing my cross. However, it will be representative of a few things I have pondered as they related to peace making, and the biblical "ethic of the cross."
My intention of ministering to Flint, and being ministered to by the people of Flint, is loosely related to the most recent set of wars the United States has fought. It came to mind that many of the folks who were protesting these wars on behalf of various interpretations of the Christian witness to peacemaking were doing little more than protesting, voting, and talking or writing. In my view, there seemed to be little sacrifice of privilege, comfort, or stability. It stands that men and women who went to war, of course, were leaving families, jobs, and entering a world of utter chaos and instability. When men and women in the armed services go to combat, despite the real reasons they joined the military, there is little question that the government and the military demand these individuals and their families make sacrifices. Others say support the troops, but such support is usually bickering about the best way to do so with little to say about actually doing it.
My thinking is, as related to Flint, that Christians who call for ourselves and others to love their neighbors, feed the hungry, house the homeless, and clothe the naked, do not actually care to do the dirty work of being in relationship with people who have such need. We rarely tend to be the two percent of Americans who sacrifice on behalf achieving favored outcomes, as is the case with individuals in the armed services. We have no domestic "unarmed" service of ministry that accepts the emptying of social or economic privilege in order to be with those seeking empowerment in an ongoing struggle against privilege. Off I go.
I am not sure what the challenges will be or what the ministry might look like. Honestly, I have no idea if any of this will work. But the First Church of the Brethren in Flint, Michigan has offered me a place to stay four days a week, and there is plenty to do. Now the thing left to do is to do, and try to do it in a manner that reflects the grace and mercy of God that we say we know fully in the life of Jesus the Christ.
