Local Spanish speakers network online
Couples’ evangelizing draws hundreds of residents together
After workdays as a school bus driver for the Shenendehowa School District, Pascual Feliz would change clothes, have dinner with his wife, Anabel, then grab an e-tablet loaded with religious-themed videos, cartoons and Spanish-language Bible verses.
He would spend evenings walking door to door to tell people about the Jehovah’s Witnesses. When asked if that felt like an impossibly long day,
Feliz shook his head as he smiles his impossibly sweet smile. He finds it was fun to meet new people. And folks who’ve had a bad day tend not to answer the door.
“Door to door witness is energizing; I’m sharing good news,” he said.
His bus driving job is less stressful than his previous job. For decades he was a corrections officer. The Felizes lived in the Bronx and would go door to door after his shift ended.
The Jehovah’s Witnesses teach that while Armageddon is imminent, the kingdom of Jesus will be the solution to all the world’s sorrows and violence.
They don’t celebrate Christmas or other Christian holidays due to their roots in ancient pagan rites. During World War II, their beliefs required them to be conscientious objectors to killing for a nation or state. But 25,000 were assigned non-combat duty, mostly as medics who risked their lives on the battlefield.
Witnesses are famous for going door to door in pairs evangelizing. Their determined, lengthy proselytizing is sometimes spoofed in pop culture.
On “Seinfeld,” misanthropic George Costanza tells his coworkers he’s a Jehovah’s Witness hoping they’ll hesitate to demand he attend office parties. The denomination began coaching members to hone their initial message to one and a half minutes. And Witnesses now carry electronic tablets filled with ice-breaker videos, music and Bible quizzes.
The pandemic ended doorknocking. The denomination told members to stop in-person visits for safety’s sake. Instead, members were urged to write letters, make phone calls or go online to contact individual residents of a neighborhood.
He and Anabel were caring for her mother, Daisy, who has dementia. He had been going door to door on his own for a while so Anabel could be with her mom. Phone calls and Zoom meets made it easier for Anabel to be part of conversations and meet people. Jehovah’s Witnesses bought directories of cellphone numbers broken down by streets or blocks and focused on calling people within a selected neighborhood. The Felizes focused on Loudonville where they live.
“And we looked for Spanish last names to start,” said Pascual who, like Anabel, immigrated from the Dominican Republic. When they called Spanish language speakers in the Capital Region, “they would introduce us to other Spanish speakers.”
They learned to love Zoom, using it to pray with new acquaintances. Pascual founded several Bible study groups online and by phone that are still thriving.
The Felizes’ networking has yielded a list of hundreds of Spanish-speaking Christians. Not all are converts to Jehovah’s Witnesses but what’s important to Pascual is, the people on his list enjoy talking about their concerns, studying and praying together.
And they are a part of a bigger effort whose energy many political campaigns and nonprofits would envy. Jehovah’s Witness information officer Mark Mclaughlin says the Capital Region’s 83 Spanish-speaking Latino and Hispanic congregants have written about 14,940 letters and spent 8,715 hours volunteering during the pandemic.