Outreach on the Doorstep

Sitting in the kitchen, looking out at the beautiful trees and blue sky.  It will be another hot day today, something that we have not had much of since last summer.  The past week has been a blur, and it is difficult to digest the impact of the flooding in Calgary.  It is surreal. 

Where we live is about 8 kilometres from one of the impact zones (there are many throughout Calgary and southern Alberta), and we are completely untouched by any part of the disaster.  Since Monday, however, I have driven into that zone at least once a day.  Each day there is improvement, and there is a hive of activity taking place.  It has been extremely difficult to gain access to Elbow Park, the area where our church is, and one of the hardest hit areas in Calgary.

Yesterday as I arrived at the church to begin set up for evening dinner, a wedding was taking place.  The dust and chaos in the neighbourhood was incredible.  As the streets are so narrow in that area, the City had set up a one-way system to allow the dump trucks and utility trucks to gain access.  Yet a beautiful couple and their guests were able to join together to celebrate a milestone in their lives.  There is no doubt that many of them will have been volunteering throughout the week, shovelling mud, ripping out drywall, and removing mud-soaked debris. Yesterday this was put to one side for a brief moment, to allow a glimmer of hope to shine through.

I am still overwhelmed with the stories of the neighbourhood.  I am aware that this is one of the most affluent areas of the city, and that other areas will not have the same financial resources to begin the restoration and recovery.  I know of parishioners who have lost everything, and will find it very difficult to muster up the energy to start again.  Yet optimism, for the most part, is still there.

Since Monday, the church has enabled nearly 600 people to take refuge in the lower hall, even if just for half an hour, to have a full meal (how many times did we hear people say that it was the first fresh greens that they had eaten in days?), and a free massage or chiropractic session to ease the physical pain.  Countless more have benefited from the provision of phone chargers (we were one of the only areas of the entire neighbourhood to retain power throughout the storm), as well as free coffee, and snacks throughout the day.  While we have not organized the lunches, somehow everyday someone brings in another huge tray of sandwiches that enables us to offer a mid-day break for those who need it.  I have had to turn away offers of food because we have been given so much.

And volunteers.  I have had to turn away countless volunteers, people showing up at the church, wanting to help.  Every night we have had too many people assisting with the dinners.  For those who are helping out, I have had to let them know that we will not be upset if they just sit and talk with people.  Sometimes that is more important than helping wash dishes. 

The community that has developed behind the scenes has been a critical part of enabling these dinners to take place.  The people setting up, clearing dishes, washing dishes, providing casseroles, providing salads – all of this has created an incredible camaraderie.  While struggling to deal with a situation in the kitchen, I told a retired judge to “butt out” last night.  All in good humour, of course!

And I am constantly aware of the other neighbourhoods.  Bowness, in particular, is a suburb just west of the city that took the initial impact of the raging river.  It is not filled with the movers and shakers of the financial, judicial, and oil and gas communities.  Friends of mine have been begging for help in that area, asking for people with trucks to assist with removing household debris to the dump.  Timing is critical in order to delay any onset of mould in the structure of the buildings that have managed to survive the torrent. This is where I have been recommending that people take the excess donations of food.  As much as we Canadians brag about Tim Horton's, doughnuts become hard to stomach after a day or two.

So we move on. We have sixty youth arriving from across North America tomorrow evening, part of a summer project that has been in the planning for months, and that we have already delayed for a week in order to do the recovery work that was necessary thus far. They will be immersed in the needs of the community for the next few days.  Tonight, therefore, will be the last of our community dinners – for the short term, at least.  For the long term, and based on what I have experienced over the past six days, I am certain that Christ Church and its parishioners will continue to offer extensive physical and spiritual support to the immediate community and beyond.