Deaf ministery members Wendy, Yolonda, and Maria recently joined the Ravens team on a Friday night outreach at a men and women’s shelter. After hearing one their testimonies at the shelter, one man gave his life to Christ!
UPDATE: The Deaf Ministry came along in preparation for their mission trip in June to Honduras. There they will be ministering to deaf and hearing children in San Pedro Sula.
A night of ministering through the vehicle of drama.
Did you ever think that something as simple as a cupcake can help you reach out to someone in need? The Ravens served cupcakes (above) as a sweet and simple token of love to the women in a homeless shelter on the east side of NYC.
Ravens Ming Xia, Ramonita, and Namyoung in the Ministry kitchen, after a night at the women’s shelter.
The Monday before Easter I popped into the Raven nest.
The first thing that Joe, a Raven regular on Monday nights, told me was: “There’s forty people here.”
What? I gawked.
“Yeah,” he laughed when he saw my face. “So many people we had to put them on stage.”
Four different teams of first-timers, seasoned veterans, and everyone in-between. The Monday night Ravens. A group of women tagging along as training for their mission trip to Alabama, at Hope’s Inn (a place of shelter, healing and discipleship for women). Young people from Calvary Chapel Bible College in California. A minister, his son, and members from Calvary Chapel of Hope in Long Island.
The group was so big, there wasn’t enough room to fit in a single circle.
So they flicked on the stage lights, gathered in the choir loft, pulled out a guitar, and simply worshiped God with one voice.
Missions Trips with Raven Ministry??? Did you know Raven Ministry is the mission field? Only one difference…It starts right here and is accessible to you in New York City. I am sure you have already heard the announcement from the pulpit. Raven Ministry will be hosting 4 separate ( 1 ) day mission trips for ALL walks of life (including families) who are interested to come along side of us and experience a home mission trip in NYC! This will be an unforgettable day as you come to feed the hungry, give an encouraging word, share how God touched your heart and tell a lonely & hurting person that God loves them. The mission field starts right here in our own city! If you have never had the opportunity to travel on a missions trip before, or would like to partake in a HOME mission trip, now is the time!!!! We are so excited that as you take this step of faith, you will allow yourself to be open & willing to let God use you. You will also be ministered to as you engage and interact into the very heartbeat of God….Feel a tug on your heart?? Log on to tscnyc.org/missions for sign-ups. Oh, and one more thing…. Come just as you are, there is no experience or qualifications required, just a willing heart to say, “God, here I am! Take me and use me for Your purposes!” : ) See you soon!
Raven Thursday Night Team October 2011
It’s interesting…The way we can embark on an experience with one kind of mindset, only to have it altered in the end. That’s pretty much the way Thursday’s Raven Team outreach was for me. As I hastened to end one part of the day I’m sure my brain had not had enough time to adequatelyEdit project some imaginary picture of how the evening might unfold. Things began rather pleasantly and ended as pleasantly, but my eyes saw differently at the end of the night than they did at the onset of the evening.
From the Theater to the Shelter
I had arrived at the jumping off point for one of Times Square Church home missions–the Raven Team–at the end of a long work day. Raven meets during the week in the hind quarters of the Mark Hellinger Theatre, which houses TSC. The atmosphere was friendly and relaxed as the team members caught up with each other and preparations were made for the night’s venture.–A night that would apparently involve a sort of dinner theater. The scent of homemade soup hung in the air as lines from Jesus’ story of a rebellious, prodigal son met my ears from time to time.
Our time of prayer was short and to the point, and before the long, crates and baskets of food were loaded into the vans along with the volunteers. I’m not sure what I might have expected. I had visited a homeless shelter perhaps once prior to this night. Though the visit was not an unpleasant one, it had failed to bring about a second or third visit. I suppose I simply expected the usual song singing and testimony sharing, but I must confess that I expected nothing beyond what was unusual.
The Hotel Barbour sits just south of 42nd Street. A stone’s throw away from the lights and busy hotels of Times Square. It houses homeless men living with HIV. Arriving there only took a few minutes. After unloading the vans we found ourselves in a small room on the top floor of the Barbour. There were just a few men who were quietly watching a television program. I looked around the room. There was a small kitchen area with a stove that had likely seen better days. Chairs were stacked against the wall in anticipation of a larger gathering. The entire room had a sort of dingy quality to itself. Perhaps the best thing about it was the large television which stood tall in one corner of the room. To this television was the focus of the men applied, except for one man who muttered derisive things aloud for much of the evening.
Life Stories
It’s difficult to explain how getting up in front of people and talking about your own life can make a difference in theirs. It’s difficult to believe that your own story can penetrate the hard exterior of a person calloused by life itself. One by one Raven volunteers shared their lives with the men gathered in that small room. One woman’s tale of struggling with drug addiction as a mother and a church goer. A young man who knew what it was like for addiction to destroy everything of value and leave you sleeping in a cold subway car in the dead of winter. I could hear some of the men respond faintly at the stories of these people who bore no resemblance to their past selves. ”I know the power of God,” says the young man dynamically. ”At one time I was in bondage and captivity.”
Dinner Conversations
As dinner was served everyone joined themselves to a conversation. I myself expected to sit and observe with pen in hand, but that was not to be. I quickly found myself in conversation with one man who asked that I pray for his daughter. He proceeded to give an account of the tragedies of his life, speaking with an almost incomprehensible voice that wobbled as he went along. Somehow I managed to make out some part of what he was trying to communicate. I learned that alcoholism had corroded his voice. His daughter had been taken away from him, his son was shot to death. He cried as he spoke. His tears fell on a face that bore the strain of alcohol and illness. It’s odd to think that all of these men were at one point in time–someone’s baby, and then think of their lives now.
When I left the Barbour that night I began to make my usual quick strides toward 42nd Street. Something felt different. I looked back on the street that I was leaving behind me..I looked in the direction of the Barbour. I thought of the brown and tan walls and the dingy looking “upper room”. Husbands, fathers, sons and brothers housed withing its walls with perhaps no one knowing that they are even there. Had I ever known that they existed? But now I know that they are there.
I was the new kid on the block, sitting snug in the back of the Raven ministry van on the way to the women’s shelter last Monday night. And as I listened to the battle of prayers and the laughter and the soulful worship of the team members, lightning bolted through me.
I was struck with clarity of their purpose, the clarity of their prayers, the clarity of their faces.
Here’s a quick snapshot of Raven faces that I’ve seen and hands I’ve shaken, both past and present: a recovered drug addict, a former high level drug trafficker, a clothing designer/theology student, a secretary, a social worker, a police officer, a man who used to be a homeless New Yorker, a woman waiting patiently “in-between” jobs, and more, more, more.
Clearly there is no “perfect” history needed to be a Raven. So what unites these Ravens from east, west, north, south? The name of Jesus tattooed on their hearts.
Bodly they go to the streets. And for whom? The mentally ill, abused, abandoned, afflicted, broken. But sometimes the lives of the Ravens are just as raw and real as the people they serve. And still, they serve. Sometimes, like the homeless, they might not know when their next paycheck is coming in or where their next meal is coming from-and even still-they serve.
In the following posts, among other things, I’d like to introduce the Ravens to you, face to face. I want to share with you personal stories about real people, real struggles, and real victories.
This is only the beginning.
Are you ready?
“As long as you pray, He restores what you lost,” says Namyoung K., a Raven ministry volunteer for several months now.
Her words coming from her own burning experiences of answered prayers.
Flash back to 5 years ago, she had it all. She had what some might call “the good life”: a great salary as a fashion designer, a nice apartment on 51st Street and 8th Avenue, the carefree lifestyle that comes with being young and hip.
But then, 2010 hit Namyoung hard with the kind of financial crisis that brought her to her knees.
On her knees, she only had strength for one prayer: “God, give me your heart.”