We’re Part of the Neighborhood: A Parish Story from Olympia, WA

In the Eastside Neighborhood of Olympia, WA, First United Methodist Church Olympia is discovering what it means to truly belong to the place they call home. Not through bigger programs or flashier services, but through slower walks, smaller gestures, and deeper roots.

Noticing What’s Missing

The neighborhood is made up of educators, environmental scientists, and state workers. People who, as Pastor Alexa Eisenbarth puts it, “don’t want to ruffle too many feathers, but who fiercely care about doing things right.”

For a time, the church wondered if their presence was more of a bother than a blessing in a place known for its spiritual disaffiliation. One neighbor regularly complained about the parking lot lights being out. “It felt like we were a nuisance,” Alexa recalls.

But thing began to shift when Alexa and a few others began slowly walking their streets, paying attention to what was around them. Sparked by simple weekly “neighborhood pilgrimages,” they began practicing presence and paying attention to what was around them. By October, it was getting too dark to continue their walks. And that’s when it hit them—the only lighting on their block came from the church parking lot.

“It wasn’t an adversarial relationship we were experiencing with our neighbor,” Alexa says. “It was an interdependent one.” What felt like antagonism turned out to be an invitation.

A Shift in Perspective

Their neighbors actually needed their light. Literally. A working parking lot street lamp was important to the neighborhood. That small realization changed everything. They saw how their presence mattered in ways they hadn’t seen before.
“Feeling like we belonged changed the question,” Alexa reflects. “No longer did we hide away, ashamed of being who we are. We started believing: ‘We’re part of the neighborhood — let’s pitch in.’”

So they did.

Deepening Neighborhood Ties

From there, relationships with their local elementary school began to deepen. One congregant’s daughter enrolled and was greeted by a principal who already knew her name. The church shared their parking spaces with the school, donated school supplies, and when the school faced closure—they showed up in force. Together, they helped keep its doors open.

As they listened more closely to their neighbors, they learned about food insecurity among families in the area. In response, they built Little Free Pantries, crafted by teams of youth and woodworkers. During Lent, they filled an entire chapel with donated food.

When they started to hear stories of how the toll of addiction was impacting local families, the response was instinctive: “We’re part of the neighborhood — let’s pitch in!” That year, they hosted a sober New Year’s Eve party with mocktails, karaoke, and sparklers for anyone who needed a safe, joyful place to celebrate.

Lighting the Way Forward

Since then, they’ve organized Trunk-or-Treats, Easter Car Hops, and replaced all their parking lot lights with energy-saving LEDs that now light up the whole block.

What changed wasn’t their budget or their programs — it was how they saw themselves. Not as outsiders hoping to be accepted or trying to change people, but as neighbors, walking the same streets, ready to listen, ready to love, and ready to share their parking lot lighting with people walking in the dark.

Reflection

This story isn’t just about one church in Olympia — it’s about all of us. It’s a reminder that frustration can sometimes be an invitation, and belonging begins by paying attention.

Where in your neighborhood might a frustration actually be an invitation?

Take a small step this week: walk your block, listen closely, and see what surprises you.