looking back

I struggled hard with my decision of whether or not to join AHAV this semester. My reservations were selfish: it was a long commitment to a ministry I had never previously considered before, I didn't know of anyone else who was joining, and I was terrified of the street evangelism portion of the outreach. For some reason, I had no fear of speaking about Christianity or my faith with the homeless, who were people I would see week after week, but I was afraid of the rejection I might receive from the "not homeless" people who I most likely would never meet again. On the other hand, I knew the simple fact that God had given me a heart for the homeless of NYC since 2003 when I was a freshman at NYU. With encouragement from my small group, a good amount of prayer, and the knowledge that this was something God was calling me to do, I decided on the last day to join. And it's been quite the semester.

Looking back at the past four months, there are a few major things I'll take away from having served in AHAV. First and foremost are the relationships I've built at Open Doors with the homeless and the impact we've made on each other. There is one friendship I built at AHAV that particularly left an impact on me. I met a woman, Lynne, who worked as a restaurant cook before a series of unfortunate events hit that suddenly left her homeless. It is not her story that shocked me but the love she exhibited for aspects of her life that were not taken away by homelessness. Her passion for reading, for starters, specifically of Joyce Carol Oates' writing, was something I admired and discussed with her each week despite the fact that I rarely read anything that's not required of me (or has lots of pictures). Lynne was so grateful for still having the ability to read, to get books and newspapers, and above all to now have "all the time in the world" to read that it's hard to not admire her spirit. I don't know the last time I looked at life like that but it certainly put things into better perspective for me. Beyond books, however, Lynne and I discussed our personal struggles and frustrations, our faiths (she's Catholic), and our hopes for the future. The week I met Lynne, she shared with me her story and allowed me to pray for her. The next week after praying together, she asked me how I was doing and though I hesitated at first, I told her about my struggles at work. The following Sunday she told me she prayed for me all week and asked if I could feel it, and it was seriously one of the biggest blessings I've ever experienced.

My experiences serving in the AHAV ministry are proof to me that God is good and He works in mysterious ways, always according to His sovereign plan. Through the people we've met, the stories we've heard, and the changes in people we've seen in a matter of weeks, I keep getting blown away by what God does through our small ministry. I can only imagine what He would do through all His children if they followed their calling to serve Him within our city of New York.

-Victoria Sung

From the valley to new found glory

This Sunday, routine ensued as we headed off to Columbus Circle, praying beforehand for the filling of the Spirit and to be empowered and equipped with His abilities, not our own. Yes, we prayed this every Sunday, but how much did we have faith that the supernatural could and can still happen through our very hands? I will admit that in my mind, I wondered how eternally significant and meaningful this almost “routine” evangelism would be. At Columbus Circle, so many of the people we speak to either just passing by or sitting at their respective vendor stands are stuck in their own ways. What can the words and imperfect love of man do to bring cynical or immobile people to the Almighty King?
Though I felt this spiritual burden, or rather restlessness, I, along with the rest of the team, moved out into the fields to see what of the harvest the Lord had prepared for us on this Sunday. With our beverages, Styrofoam cups, and chocolate-chip cookies, we approached the Tibetan vendors on the outskirts of Columbus Circle. Annabel and I spoke with Tabeed, Tom, and their relatives sitting by, as we poured warm cups of hot chocolate for our God-delivered strangers on this Sunday afternoon. Initially, we tried just connecting person to person, before trying to delve into a conversation on spirituality and the love of Christ. They had been here for about 5 years or so, and more than anything, I was impressed at their persevering joy in the midst of conditions that were far from favorable.
Then the question sneaked into the open: “why are you guys doing this?” For this breakthrough in the conversation, I praise God. Yet, the responses to my response convey to me many things. I just remember smiling as widely as I could, to tell them that we are here to display the love of Jesus Christ that He has shown to me, and to obey His commandment to show this love to my neighbors. They simply nod their heads and smile modestly. The breakthrough moment I had foreseen in my heart quickly fizzled out.
Was it a problem with my approach? Have I been muddling the all-powerful and all-surpassing love of Christ due to my fear of alienating these genuinely hospitable people? I don’t know what it was exactly, but something felt amiss. I have been evangelizing at Columbia University for the past three months, much to only encounter similar, apathetic responses of people suddenly retreating into tempered silence. Perhaps I had grown so impatient with fruitlessness. Even more frightening was the ever-present possibility that it was something I was doing that led to this lack of fruit. Tabeed and Tom’s genuine thanks for our demonstrations of love and their indiscriminate openness to Annabel and I have created a longing even stronger than before to lead these friends into the refreshing, overwhelming love and righteousness found in Jesus Christ.
I still don’t really have an answer to this contemplative civil war ensuing in my mind. However, just telling our new friends that Jesus Christ loved them before us, which is why we could love them as such, I clung onto a mustard seed of faith that a sliver, a morsel, even the smallest inkling of Christ’s love had been planted. And all the more was I reminded of how important it is to “do the work of an evangelist” by faith, and not by my own sight. With my eyes, it is very easy to be downcast and to think that barrenness implies utter failure. But just as God has been faithful to those who trusted in His calling, I trust that through this ministry and our acts of obedience, God is still sovereign yesterday, today, and for eternity to come.

Next up was Open Doors, and for me, this was a struggle. I have been finding it incredibly difficult to connect on a level that extended into realms of mutual trust and intimacy. Regardless, God commanded me to “go,” and what else must I do but obey! I first approached a man named Lloyd. He was born and raised in Brooklyn, and he said he always came to Open Doors for food and for a place to stay. So far this semester, I can probably say that Lloyd was one of the most terse, closed-off people I had met at Open Doors. His responses never returned with anything more than I had asked, and it seemed as if he were more vexed by my presence than curious. He said he hasn’t been looking for a job, housing, or anything else. And he was so proud in admitting this too. At this, I just about gave up; how was I supposed to show Christ’s love to a person who felt like he didn’t even need his own best efforts to stay alive?
Then the conversation became just plain confusing. I asked if he had been raised Christian or had any religious upbringing as a child, to which he tersely, sternly, and almost angrily replied no. Delving deeper into his present life, he said he did not consider himself affiliated with any religion. “Are you Christian?” “No.” “Do you believe in God, and that Jesus Christ died for your sins?” “Oh yea, of course…”
Perhaps God was testing me with my patience here, a quality I know I have fallen in many times. Clarification proved utterly useless, as I just ended up confusing myself even more. The aforementioned thoughts of futility and hopelessness crept back once more. Maybe this is a season, for God to humble me and show me what I’m really made of. And right now, honestly and wholly truthfully speaking, it’s hard to say that God’s ministry through AHAV, on my part, is done through faith. If there is one thing I despise is sugarcoating things and beating around the bush, which is why I am being, perhaps too brutally honest about myself and with this group. All the more so, because God has revealed to me the brutal truth about my condition, I am wholly, utterly, and completely at His mercy to show me grace and forgiveness. Furthermore, I know that my Potter will build me up and shape me into the form He wants me to take. Because of this, I have hope of greater beauty, revelations, and grace.

Lord, I desperately need you. Please, show me your fingerprints in this world and your transformative hand in my soul.

God at work

Prior to Ahav, I hadn’t even noticed how many street vendors there were at Columbus Circle. This past Sunday was the first time I had ever stopped to talk to them. I talked to a man whose nickname is Tsunami. He’s from Tibet, like most of the street vendors at the Circle. He’s in his mid-50s, his wife is here in New York, but his kids are in India. He makes money by selling his photos at the Circle March through about December, and takes the cold winter months off. He shared how competition is pretty fierce and how he has to wake up early every morning to make sure he has the spot he wants at Columbus Circle. He shared his favorite photo with me, which is a photo of a pub in New York. He said it is the oldest pub in the city, and very often he and his Tibetan friends go there to drink and have a good time. His eyes lit up when telling me about the unique beers that pub had; you apparently couldn’t get those beers anywhere else in the city. He lit up his cigarette and continued to talk to me. He seemed so satisfied with life. But my heart broke for him. “If only he knew God… if only he knew God,” I thought.

He said he had friends who go to church, and they’d ask him to come, but he’d always come up with excuses for not going. If he’s not out at Columbus Circle, he’d rather be sleeping, or drinking, or just be at home with his wife. That day, I could only leave him with a gentle nudge that he should follow his friends to church one day. While walking back to the fountain for worship time, I prayed for our encounter next week. I asked God, “Would you please show him that there is so much more to life than this….”

Open Doors.

Rodrigo. I remember when I first met him the beginning of this semester. I approached him with some hot chocolate and kashi cookies and he rejected them. I asked him questions, only to get back terse one- word answers. He put up a wall so high, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get through. But week after week, even if I were busy serving other people hot drinks/food, I always made time somewhere in the hour we were at Open Doors to talk to him.

God is good. He is always at work.

The past two Sundays, Rodrigo would come find me first and start talking. He’d share about his week and his struggles before I even asked. This past Sunday, he had a huge smile on his face as he approached me. He said “guess what, guess what!” as he pulled something small from his pocket to show me. It was a key. He had gotten a small apartment for him and his wife. I felt blessed to be able to share in his happiness. Praise God.

Kevin. Definitely not your typical homeless person. He reads the news more than I do. He’s aware of what’s going on in the world today more than I do. We talk about current events. We talk about finance. He talks to me about clips he’s seen on YouTube of my CEO in various interviews. We talk about politics. We talk about God. He’s not a Christian. He’s actually very skeptical of Christianity. But he’s curious.

God is good. He is always at work.

When I first met him, he’d just share about why he doesn’t believe in Christianity. How things just don’t make sense to him. He had his reservations and that was that.

Now, my time with him at Open Doors is just not enough to cover the types of questions he has… what is grace? What is the difference between grace and faith versus works? Why is the Bible filled with so many “contradictions”? We correspond via email throughout the week and he’s quoting bible verses across the Old and New Testaments and asking why different verses seem to contradict each other.

Praise God for instilling in Kevin this curiosity. He wants to make sense of the Word, and that is so encouraging to me.

God is good all the time. All the time God is good.