Consider this. You’re standing at the end of a street of more than a hundred houses. It looks like it’s going to rain – in fact, you just felt a few drops on your head. There’s a noisy gang of lads working on a white van in front of a house on the other side of the road. You’re about to open a gate and walk through the manicured front garden up to a house with a new front door and double glazing. Through the windows you can see a neat room with new-looking furniture.
You take a deep breath to try and calm your thumping heart and you reach your finger out to poke at the doorbell.
Inside the house a dog barks. A few moments elapse and a figure, vaguely seen through the front door’s reeded glass, reaches for the latch.
What are you feeling?
I know what I felt the first time I did this. Scared! Anxious about how the person who opened the door would react to my intrusion into their privacy.
Knocking on doors out of the blue – cold calling – is not something I would normally do. But then intensive teaching projects are not ‘normal’.
Preparation
A group of us got together for some hours with the project coordinator a few days before the project began. We prayed and we studied the presentation of the Bahá’í Faith that Bahá’ís the world over refer to as “Anna’s Presentation” – from the example presentation that appears in Book 6 of the Ruhi Institute.
As I understand it, the point is not to learn this presentation off by heart, as some have been trying to do, but to become familiar with the concepts in the presentation so that we can present them in right order.
I say “right order”. That doesn’t mean one can only present the ideas and teachings of the Bahá’í Faith in a particular order, but there is a logic to the presentation that seems to work.
Teaching booklet
We also pick up a copy each of the spiral-bound teaching booklet that we are going to use to help us to make the presentation.
Teaching booklet
Prayer – and lots of it
On the days we went out, we gathered in a Bahá’í home at 8 a.m. for 30 minutes of private prayer, followed by an hour of collective prayer.
Now, I usually find it difficult to stay focused for 20 minutes of prayer, so an hour and a half of the spiritual stuff is pretty daunting.
So I was amazed to find that praying together for so long added a dimension and an intensity to my prayers that I’ve only rarely experienced before. I could hardly get through the Fire Tablet and kept thinking of the small room in the House of Aboud where Bahá’u'lláh revealed the tablet. (He also completed the Aqdas in that room.)
Study
After prayer, breakfast. And then study of passages from the Bahá’í sacred writings about the sacred duty of teaching. And it’s then that we focus on what it is we are setting out to do.
We’re not selling double glazing. We’re not trying to sign people up for a club. We’re seeking a response from the soul of the person we’re talking to.
Consort with all men, O people of Bahá, in a spirit of friendliness and fellowship. If ye be aware of a certain truth, if ye possess a jewel, of which others are deprived, share it with them in a language of utmost kindliness and good-will. If it be accepted, if it fulfil its purpose, your object is attained. IF any one should refuse it, leave him unto himself, and beseech God to guide him. [Bahá'u'lláh]
Hit the streets
Lunch follows study, and walking the streets follows lunch.
We decide to start knocking on doors at 1.30 p.m. and to stop just before 8.00 p.m. It’s a long time!
First door. Deep breath. Smile. Ring the bell. No reply.
Second door. Deep breath. Smile. Knock. No reply.
Third door. Deep breath. Smile. Ring. A short delay. The door opens. A face looks out, enquiring. “Hello, I’m Barney and this is Niamh. We’re visiting homes in the street to offer people the opportunity to learn about the Bahá’í Faith. Have you heard of the Bahá’í Faith?”
Yes? No? What will the person say? Most say no at this point. “I’m not interested.” Or “We have our own faith, thank you.” Or “My partner’s father is a vicar.” This brush-off from a smiling young mother. My partner’s father is a vicar? What’s that got to do with anything?
Time to regroup. Time for a prayer. And on to the next door.
This is the house of a group of Latvian migrants. They invite us in. We begin the presentation and they listen for a time. They ask questions and we work our way around their relatively poor English and our non-existent Latvian. But in the end they don’t want to take the discussion any further and we bid them farewell.
Break
I’m desperate for a cup of tea. The various teams meet up in the coffee shop in Asda to refresh themselves and plan the next section of the day. It’s about 5.30 p.m.
Tea break in Asda
Back to the streets
After our break , we reform into new teaching teams and move on to different parts of town.
My partner and I find ourselves on a street of 1960s terraced houses. A young Indian girl of about 7 or 8 opens the second door we knock at.
“Is your mum or dad in?”
She fetches her mum, who looks to be in her early 30s and who listens to the opening of the presentation before motioning us to enter.
We learn that her name is Madhu, she has a wonderful smile, and she’s from Gujarat. Her English is not strong, but she listens very carefully to the presentation.
The air is full of the wonderful spicy aroma of Indian cooking. The living room looks like it has not been redecorated for many years. The brown wallpaper is torn in places and the furnishings are very simple. But the house has a welcoming spirit. It is a true home. The little girl who opened the door and her younger brother dash in and out as Talieh and I talk to their mother.
Madhu finds a point too difficult to understand and sends the little girl upstairs. A few moments later, the girl returns with a young guy, who turns out to be one of Madhu’s cousins. He looks like he’s just woken up, but he listens as Talieh repeats what she wants to say to Madhu. The cousin says something very brief in Gujurati and Madhu nods.
Shortly he has to leave and go to work. As he goes a young woman comes into the house. She’s another cousin, just returned from her shift at Tesco in St Albans. She listens intently to the presentation and, as she does, the house begins to fill up with cousins returning from work at various supermarkets in Hatfield and St Albans. In the end there are about six cousins in the living room, listening with varying degrees of attention to the presentation.
As each one comes in, he or she greets us as if we are old friends of the family. Is this just politeness? Or are we being genuinely welcomed? It feels genuine, but we don’t want to presume on their hospitality.
After a couple of hours, we’ve repeated the main points of the presentation I don’t know how many times and we’ve arranged to return the next day.
We take our leave. Outside, as we head for the car, another cousin, Parag, comes up and greets us. We introduce ourselves and our purpose in being here. It seems that he will be around when we come back the following day, so we reserve the presentation for then.
Dinner and debrief
We all gather at Niamh and Martin’s for dinner and a debrief. We share stories and try to draw out “the learning” from our experiences. Pretty much everyone has had a similar mixture of joy and disappointment. It is clear that some streets were not at all receptive to this direct approach by Bahá’ís. Others, though, were definitely promising. Nobody had experienced outright rudeness. Those who had turned us away from their doors had generally done so reasonably politely.
Everyone had been apprehensive about knocking on doors; everyone had experienced varying degrees of stress. On the other hand, everyone reported that things went best when they felt able to let go of their fears and to rely on Bahá’u'lláh as they talked to people. And everyone had experienced at least one encounter that they had thought would end in rejection but which turned out to lead to some very interesting and propitious conversations.
Mostly what we learned about was ourselves, our capacity to persevere when we felt discouraged, and about the importance of prayer and preparation before and during our time on the streetgs.
Is this the right thing to do?
I had my doubts about involving myself in the teaching project in Hatfield. I’m not all that fond of having religious characters knocking on my door to tell me about their particular beliefs or, even worse, to try to persuade me to adopt their faith.
So why would I go knocking on other people’s doors to tell them about my faith? Am I guilty of hypocrisy by doing what I don’t want others to do to me? Am I being a religious imperialist in trying to find those who will respond positively to Bahá’u'lláh’s teachings? After all, in the inter-faith world in which I spend so much of my time, this would be considered poor form. These questions nagged at me every time I approached a front door.
However, as Bill pointed out in his comment on my first post about teaching at people’s door, the answer to this question may have something to do with justice. Bahá’u'lláh’s teachings for the future of the world are strong on social justice, based on a deep realization of human oneness and the reduction of inequality. But those teachings aren’t going to make a whole heap of difference to the world if the majority of people don’t at least have a chance to consider them.
We would never, in the proverbial month of Sundays, meet some of the people we encountered unless we knocked on their doors. They don’t belong to the clubs and associations we might belong to. We’re not part of their family or ethnic networks. They work long hours. And they certainly don’t go to the public meetings we used to organize as our way of meeting people. We have to go to them.
If we believe, as Bahá’ís do, that the teachings and actions of our faith are essential to the transformation of the world from its present troubled state into a civilization in which every individual can develop his or her potential and put that potential to use in service to all our fellow human beings, then we have a pressing obligation to share our message.
Seeking the knowledge of God – deeds and words in harmony
I find the answer to my questions in the message that the Universal House of Justice, the Bahá’í community’s world governing council, addressed to the community at Ridván this year:
Humanity is battered by forces of oppression, whether generated from the depths of religious prejudice or the pinnacles of rampant materialism. Bahá’ís are able to discern the causes of this affliction. “What ‘oppression’ is more grievous,” Bahá’u'lláh asks, “than that a soul seeking the truth, and wishing to attain unto the knowledge of God should not know where to go for it and from whom to seek it?”
Well, if people are going to find what their souls yearn for in the teachings of Bahá’u'lláh, those of us who claim to follow Bahá’u'lláh have to strive for a very high standard of conduct. As the Universal House of Justice says:
So free must be your thoughts and actions of any trace of prejudice – racial, religious, economic, national, tribal, class, or cultural – that even the stranger sees in you loving friends. So high must be your standard of excellence and so pure and chaste your lives that the moral influence you exert penetrates the consciousness of the wider community. Only if you demonstrate the rectitude of conduct to which the writings of the Faith call every soul will you be able to struggle against the myriad forms of corruption, overt and subtle, eating at the vitals of society.
And I find this admonition particularly inspiring:
Only if you perceive honour and nobility in every human being – this independent of wealth or poverty – will you be able to champion the cause of justice.
Technorati Tags: Baha’i, Bahai, teaching, Hatfield, unity, justice, truth, honour, nobility, prayer, study, prejudice
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{ 8 comments }
This is interesting. It would be really good to hear what happens in the long term. Does this lead to interest in the Faith or hostility towards it? I suppose it may depend on what society you live in.
Good questions, Pauline. I’m sure a lot will depend on where in the world we do this kind of thing. Only time will tell, but we have to give it a go. Would I do it again? Yes – but only after lots of prayer.
Barney, Your pieces on the “Hatfield experience” are extremely valuable and inspiring. It brought my mind back to our experience some months back in Coventry when we spent some afternoon moments together on the streets of Coventry. There is no doubt in my mind and heart that the element of prayer and spiritual preparation is key to all advancement in this process!
Full of admiration for your efforts in Hatfield. Mole Valley could use you too!
T & R
Thanks, Jim, Thelma and Ron, for your comments. I would certainly do this again, but only after a great deal of prayer and preparation. Mind you, I’m not the best at this – I feel more at home in external affairs-type surroundings – but I feel I need more practice at this kind of direct teaching.
One of the preparatory steps the Baha’is in England will need to take is determining what constitutes a “receptive neighborhood” in your country. Door-to-door teaching should definitely not be done everywhere. It works when carried out in neighborhoods that have a receptivity to unannounced guests with a message to share.
In the U.S., we lo0k for distinct characteristics: low income, immigrant, many children playing outside. And we look for specific populations: African-American, Hispanic, immigrant, and Iranians. A possible receptive neighborhood receives a visit from a single team which does a test knock at a few doors to determine response rate. If the response is good, then we schedule door-to-door teaching in that area as part of the expansion phase of our program of growth.
The key is to be systematic and to recognize that some neighborhoods will not have a positive response and should not be the focus of this kind of teaching.
We are still learning what the receptive neighbourhoods and populations are likely to be in the UK (and not just in England). Until we try things out we won’t be able to learn. We are applying the ARC pattern: Action, Reflection, Consultation – leading on, of course, to further action.
I don’t suppose you in the US got it right from the outset – and you probably don’t get it right a hundred per cent of the time now. We are all learning – and the UK has to learn what works here.
Believe me, we are being systematic.
You’re right, Barney. In the States we didn’t get it right for some time and we don’t always get it right now. But we are learning fast. I think you are going to find a slightly different set of responsive populations.
And, we always discuss extensively with the prospective door-to-door teachers that we are not simply trying to count numbers. We are engaging real human beings in relationships that we will have to sustain. We are after quality of interaction, not quantity.
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