The Homeless

"Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe him,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?"
Isaiah 58:7

At the beginning of our internships, we were given business cards for the Love Kitchen (which serves free dinner every weekday from 4:30 until 6pm) to give out to homeless people we encountered on the street. I had a whole stack in my wallet that sat virtually untouched for three weeks; in my daily travels from the Bronx to Manhattan, there are no homeless people. They don’t really hang out down in the corporate empire, since no one will even look at them, nor do they frequent the ghetto where people might not even have anything to offer them. They’re just somewhere else.

My new friend Jon Kwan, from Hong Kong, asked me for some of the business cards the weekend before last, because he had run out. As I gave him half of my stack, I noted my lack of transient encounters. He pleasantly assured me that they were out there. We parted ways for the weekend, and I prayed God would give me the opportunity to bless someone with the knowledge of the Love Kitchen. God had unmistakeably heard my request...

During a Chinatown excursion one weekend, my new friends and I saw two homeless men near the subway. Without even really thinking about it, I slowed our group down to talk to them. We told them about the Love Kitchen, and we prayed for them. It was a strange interaction, because it was so quick and to the point. Their situation wasn’t necessarily on my mind, I just figured I’d be obedient; I asked God to cross our paths, He did, so I would direct them towards nourishment.

I saw two more homeless men on the following Sunday, during a day of introspection. Once again, I figured I’d obey Jesus’ command to feed the hungry. The first one was right after I got out of the subway. I had really high hopes for this encounter, because this skinny little man gave me a big a hug and told me that I was the only one who had ever stopped to listen to him. He was allegedly diabetic and had stomach cancer, and was apparently starving. I offered to buy him some food from the cafe we were standing outside of, but he refused my offer and just continued to beg for money. I went inside the cafe to "get some cash from the ATM", but really to look at the menu, and came out again to make my final offer. I told him that I would treat him to lunch, but I would not give him money. The man pretended to cry and then stormed away, furious that I would not entertain his request.

I sent Jon Walton a discouraged text message, reporting my failure, but was met with a proverbial "plenty of other fish in the sea" kind of response, noting that there were 36,000 other homeless men and women I could potentially bless. Closer by to the park, was my chance at redemption sitting outside Chipotle. A man was sitting on the sidewalk, with a cardboard sign indicating his hunger. Without any introduction, I asked the man if he liked chicken and proceeded to buy him a burrito. He gratefully accepted.

The night we found George, we also ran in to another man sitting with a sign indicating his needs. At first, we weren't going to stop, because we obviously had our hands full with our poor intoxicated 17-year-old. Still, Jesus' words rung in our heads, so we stopped for a shirtless tattooed man named Jeremy. He was covered in sweat and was bobbing back and forth with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. We asked him if he needed any help; he had been blessed with food and water from other strangers earlier, but he would appreciate prayer for his newly diagnosed cancer. We laid hands on him, prayed for healing and gave him a Love Kitchen card in case he ever needed food. He thanked us with a drunken smile and bid us goodnight.

During Feed 500, I opted out of any active service. I was exhausted from the week, and I was still recovering from my cold, and it was unbelievably hot outside. I decided to sit in the shade with our “customers”. I ended up having a really cool time talking to this delightfully cheerful guy named Sydney. He was from North Carolina, and came up to New York when he in his twenties. Sometime along the way, he met Jesus and changed his life. He talked a lot about the evils of hatred and racism, and how we are all God's children. He loved history, martial arts, his 7-year-old daughter, and playing mafia wars on facebook. Apparently, he was having some trouble with his daughter's mother not letting him see her, so my friend Niki and I prayed for him.

Ask and you shall recieve. I was truly challenged and blessed by these interactions. While I loved to see these men's faces light up with appreciation whenever they were noticed, I couldn't help but think that these kinds of encoutners should probably be normal for the Christian life...

"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.
Matthew 25:34-36

Interestingly enough, when you look at Matthew 25:34-36 in the original Greek, an aorist tense is used when noting the various activities believers have done. This tense, not featured in the Enlgish language, doesn't indicate a time but rather a perpetual condition. Jesus didn't mean for us to do these things as a task once, or even a couple times, but rather a part of life. I'd like to humbly submit that Jesus was talking about a lifestyle of feeding the hungry, of clothing the naked and caring for the sick. Something as normal as a handshake or holding the door open for someone.

I want this to be a normal interaction for me.

Week 4

This last week, Raja came to visit me at work to help me find Hindu resources for the Curriculum. A side from statistics and current events, I was also supposed to look up some eastern religious exhortations to help the poor. Matt had already found all the easy ones (i.e. Christianity, Judaism, and Islam) so he had me look for Buddhist and Hindu teachings. Unfortunately, neither religion has a single sacred text. Lucky for me, Raja was raised in the Hindu faith and had a solid background knowledge to help point me in the right direction.

That Monday night, we had a stewardship talk from Jonathan Walton. We dug into the scriptures and talked about what God had to say about money. I felt really convicted. In a good way. I was definitely reminded that my job and the money I get from it is purely a gift and resource from my Father in Heaven, not something to be squandered or hoarded. The biggest key point I took away was the idea that you want to direct your money where it's going, not wonder where it went. I know that's really simplistic, but I felt like it was equally powerful. There are a lot of things to think about regarding this issue. I definitely wanna start doing some budgeting when I get home.

Tuesday, I got off of work a little early and made Shepherds Pie for dinner. Wednesday was a nice change of pace, though. Matt had sent me down to Brooklyn to volunteer at one of Habitat's construction sites. It was so nice going to work in normal clothes. No ironing or tucking in my shirt, and thanks to Anson, I had proper footwear. It took forever to get there, though, because I had to take an hour-long train ride across the river, and then take a 20 minutes bus ride to the building. This particular volunteer day was special, however, because former Mets player Daryl Strawberry came to do a press conference and help out with the project along with a large group of volunteers from Citibank (one of Habitat's most generous supporters). The press conference took a good chunk of time out of the day, and Citibank bought everyone lunch, so I only ended up doing any real work for about three of the five hours I was on site.

I kind of wish we had done more, but what we did do was pretty awesome. We dry-walled the entire ceiling of a living room, via screw-gun. It's a lot more complicated than it sounds, but much easier than it looks. We had to measure and saw the pieces of drywall to fit the shape of the room, and even had to cut out holes for outlets and whatnot. We would then hold the pieces of drywall in place while someone would screw them in to the beams.

Apparently, every year the entire Habitat office goes to a Mets game together...so I got three free tickets to go see the Mets loose to the St. Louis Cardinals. There was but one Mets fan in the entire NYCUP house, and one avid baseball fan (who didn't have to cook or clean that night) who I brought along with me. Poor Francis was heartbroken when we arrived to see the Mets down by six at the bottom of the first inning. The game didn't pick up until the ninth inning, when we had left to make out curfew, but we had fun all the same. Francis and Niki made it onto the big screen for a few moments during

Thursday I went to lunch with Matt and Jonathan on the pier downtown, and later afterwork had our bible study back at the house. I know I've said it before, and I'll say it again: that Bible study deserves a post of its own. I'm gonna do a post exclusively for the book of Isaiah when I get the chance.

Friday night, after a presentation about Human Frafficking, a few of us went out on the stoop to hangout because the weather was beautiful. The humidity had curiously dropped and there was a light breeze fanning the streets of the South Bronx. It was very California. Bethany, Anson and I listened to some awesome stories from Raja, Elle Park (NYCUP's official blogger) and Viji (Raja's twin sister.) We started talking about how God has revealed Himself to humanity; how some people instinctively know Him, and how others just have earth-shattering encounters with Him.

The stories I heard were so incredible, and definitely deserve their own post. To be sure, though, these stories gave made me excited about God. They made me want to know Him more. Raja recommended a book to me, that expanded on the "indigenous Christians" of African and South American tribal communities. I can't wait to order it.

Saturday we woke up early to pray for the Hope Fair. Afterwards, I went to Shake Shack (again) with Anson, Bethany, Stephanie and Rachel. It was quite the pilgrimage, because we had to walk really far and two out of the five of us hadn't had it before. It was exquisite, as usual. Rachel went home, and the rest of us walked around Riverside (again) I took a nap on the lawn, and read some more of Irresistible Revolution. I also went on a walk and did some praying. Around dinnertime, we wandered over to this massive cathedral outside the park called St. John the Divine. It was the biggest sanctuary I have ever seen. Dimly lit with hundreds of candles, surrounded by colorful stain glass windows and lined with colossal pillars of marble...St. Johns was breathtaking. I didn't have my camera on me, unfortunately, but it was truly an architectural masterpiece.

We went back to the park for a relaxing sunset Jazz show right on the water. After that, I met up with some other people to go to a notorious jazz club known as Fat Cat, where we shot a round of pool before turning in for the night. I wish we had gotten there earlier, because by the time we got there we only had an hour until curfew. Oh well, it was still a good time. Whenever I come back to New York, I definitely wanna come by this place again. Fat Cat is basically a game hall (with live music) with a plethora of activities to enjoy while you listen to the jam session. They had ping pong, shuffle board, billiards, scrabble, go, playing cards. I definitely wanna come back sometime.

Sunday was the Hope Fair. At long last, Melissa and Michelle's hard work would be put into action. After church, NYCUP set up the sanctuary of Manhattan Bible Church into an exhibition hall. We moved the chairs and set up tables for all the non-profits that would be represented. Like I mentioned earlier, I was assigned to man a table for Habitat. I got to talk to a lot of people about the programs available in New York. Around 8-10 people stopped at my table. Some people I talked to didn't qualify, which was discouraging because they were so disappointed. Thankfully, though, a lot of people did qualify. I loved seeing the hope rise up in families' eyes as I explained the specifics of the program. They were very impressed with what Habitat had to offer, and lots of applications were given out. After the Hope Fair, which ended around 6pm, we went out to a Puerto Rican restaurant for dinner. It was the perfect way to end such a long day.

George

This is how I spent my Saturday night, in New York City.

I had been hanging out with Jon and Niki at a coffee shop this last Saturday, and our midnight curfew was rapidly approaching. After debating whether or not to go play pool, or do karaoke, or see a movie, we ended up near Union Square. We were on our way to the subway to take the D train home, when we all stopped in our tracks at the sight of some guy hunched over and travailing in a puddle of his own vomit. He was sweaty and wreaked of alcohol. We all looked at each other uneasily, but the compelling words of Jesus echoing in our heads finally behooved us to approach him. Admittedly, I was hesitant to do so, because I wasn’t sure if it was safe. I knew, however, that I had been praying for opportunities to help the needy. Here was an opportunity.

I didn’t realize how young he was until we got closer. He was about seventeen, wearing a red t-shirt and skinny jeans. Jon immediately knelt down and produced some napkins from his backpack, and offered it to the guy to wipe himself off. Jon began asking him questions about how we could help him, while I watched Niki quietly assessed the kid’s level of intoxication. There's something inside me that wants to be significant, to be special, to be useful and indispensable. So there was an innate desire to impact this situation.

But...I wasn’t sure what to do. Unlike my two roommates, I had no background or experience in caring for the drunk. I quickly realized that this divine appointment was not about me being able to help someone, but it was about this kid getting help. From here on out, I decided I would just make myself available to assist however I could. Whether that was holding the guy's water, or helping him stand, or guiding his drunken footsteps, I was ready to be of at least some help.

Niki ran into Dunkin Donuts to get some water and a banana, while Jon continued to talk with the kid. He was completely incoherent, and couldn’t even stand up. He was convinced he was in Brooklyn, but we kept telling him he was in Manhattan. When Niki came back, a crowd of scantily clad Jersey girls swooped over us and demanded what was going on with the kid. Apparently, these girls had seen the drunken teenager earlier that evening, falling out of a subway car. People exiting the train walked over him, but they rescued him from the platform and called the police. They said that they had left him with the police, and thought nothing more of it, but were completely shocked to find him in the same place they’d left him.

The Jersey girls were being extremely overbearing, and scolding the poor kid for his misbehavior. They had good intentions, though. One of them fed him the banana and gave him a big sticky, pukey hug. They were celebrating someone’s birthday, so we insisted that we’d take care of it. Despite this kid’s protests and assertions of his increasing sobriety, we did not listen to him (he was convinced he was in the Bed-Stuyvesant neighborhood of middle Brooklyn, near his favorite pizza place.) They left, Jon called the house to tell them we’d be late, and we all sat down and got to know our new friend. Empty handed and speechless, I simply sat beside this young man and listened to him tell his story.

His name was George. He lived in Queens, and had just graduated from high school. He was on his way to film school in the fall. That afternoon, however, he broke up with his girlfriend down in Brooklyn and decided to drink his sorrows away with his friends. Unfortunately, George hadn’t eaten anything all day, and he had been drinking continuously since about 3pm. His supply of alcohol had run out around 10:30pm. Therefore, Niki had confirmed, he was absolutely wasted, and could possibly risk alcohol poisoning. At this point, George had no idea how he ended up in Manhattan, and he didn’t know where his friends were. He didn't even remember being rescued by the Jersey girls. What he did remember, however, was that he had forgotten his cell phone at home. ..and he was far to drunk to remember any phone numbers to call on someone else's.

As a strict follower of the straight-edge philosophy, I could not even begin to imagine being in this situation. I would have been so scared. Having no phone and no money and not even being able to walk straight or remember my house number...the very thought made me anxious. Perhaps if it ever did happen, God would send his sons and daughters to rescue me like He had done for George. I was surprised at myself for not looking at George with the judging eyes I usually have with my friends back home who indulge in alcohol and drugs. God gave me His heart for his son. I was filled with compassion and love for him.

As he told us his story, I could tell he was pretty sad about the whole ordeal. He had been with his girlfriend for a couple years, and they broke up because they were going to different colleges. He said he really cared for her. He knew that drinking wouldn't take away his pain, but he had just hoped he could stop thinking about it.

George was slowly recovering, and was feeling much better after drinking some water and eating the banana. Niki, who used to be a binge drinker and a drug addict, began educating him about the nature of alcohol and drug use. She told him that the reason he’d been so heavily affected was because he hadn’t eaten anything before he drank. Niki started telling him about her experiences drowning herself in substances to escape her problems. She noted one specific occasion when she was sixteen when she had drunken herself into a coma. Niki came to leave it all behind by realizing that drugs and alcohol would not solve her problems. The only thing that would truly satisfy the hungers of her soul, she said, was Jesus Christ.

He agreed with her; he believed in God, but he had been turned off by his parent's religious upbringing. He felt like Jesus was always being shoved down his throat, so he never took it to heart. We told him that Jesus, Himself, doesn't want to do that to him; Jesus wants George to choose Him, because He chose George. We asked him if we could pray for him, and he accepted. We prayed for God to show him His love and satisfy him in this hard time, and that God would bring him back to reality so we could get him home.

He had to use the bathroom, so Jon and I helped him up and walked him over to KFC where he could use the bathroom. All along the way, George kept telling us how “fucking cool” we were and how much he appreciated us helping him. I couldn't help but imagine how many people had walked by him that night, thinking he was some filthy vagrant, not even batting an eye. George said he couldn't believe we stopped for him. I could. What I couldn't believe is that we've come this far. This was the kind of thing I had only wished me and my friends were cool enough to do. This is the kind of thing I pictured only Jesus putting up with. Yet here we were. In response to his amazement, I told him he was our brother; if we are all God's children, then we are all a family. He smiled.

George emptied out his bladder and washed his face, while Jon went to get him some pizza (we were all very hungry.) He walked with Niki and I and sat down on the sidewalk a few blocks up, waiting for Jon, who brought back four delicious slices of artichoke and spinach pizza. It was a marvelous dinner. People passing us looked at the four of us curiously as we dined on the sidewalk, laughing and talking in the name of Jesus. We talked a lot about the movies that he wanted to make. He apparently had numerous odd jobs lined up this summer, filming baptisms and weddings. When we were finished eating, George said he was feeling nauseas, so Niki suggested that he throw up again. She insisted that he get as much alcohol out of his body has possible. Jon and I led him over to a garbage can, where we consoled him as he tried to gag the poison out of his body.

Niki excused herself for this activity, and started pacing up and down the block interceding for God's healing hand to be on George. I could vaguely hear her mouth racing, and I could almost see the tongue of fire over her head as she went to war for George.

It was time to get George home. We walked him to the subway, which was at least 90 degrees, and waited with him for over an hour for his train to arrive. George, at this point, was feeling much better. He was still pretty air-headed, but he could walk now. Much to my amusement, George asked for a piece of gum because he had a bitter taste in his mouth. It this kid's lucky day. I had a full pack in my back pocket. I couldn't help but notice what a perfect situation we were in. What if we had gone to play pool, or sing karaoke? We wouldn't have been anywhere near where George was. And what better people to stumble across him than an NYU student who knows the city like the back of his hand and could get him home, and a former binge drinker who knew exactly how to treat his symptoms?

We found out we had missed the local R-Train, so we had to wait for the sporadic N-train. I was starting to fade. We all were. I was exhausted and overheated. I excused myself outside (where it had begun to rain) a few times to refocus. Jon was a trooper. He never left his side for the rest of the wait.

Finally, we got George on the train. By this point, I was ready to pass out...so I offered to pay for a cab home. On the way, we prayed together, thanking God for this opportunity to love his son.

Overall, we had probably spent ten dollars on our new friend. We calculated that the water, banana, pizza and bagel and metrocard came to about total of ten dollars. Sometime after we arrived in the subway, Niki and I found a $10 on the steps leading down to the platform. Thanks, God.

Week 3

This week was unfortunately not very enjoyable, at least for the first few days. Like I mentioned in my last post, I woke up on Monday morning with a cold, which became progressively worse as the week went on. It made working at the office pretty despicable, and I barely got anything done until Friday. It was also really hard to get to bed at a decent hour because I’d be coughing and blowing my nose all night. As you might imagine, I was never really in the mood for our guest speaker on Monday, and I definitely wasn’t in the mood for a liturgy session on Wednesday either.

Even though I felt like a zombie for the majority of the week, I thank God for bringing two aspiring chefs to NYCUP. I humbly submit that Jon Kwan and Niki Brooks put us all to shame this week when their dinner team fed us three course meals every night when we all came home from work. While these two may have not been in charge of each meal, they certainly enhanced the quality with their knowledge of the culinary arts. I thoroughly enjoined dinner this week. It’s been good every night of NYCUP, but this week was especially delicious.

On Wednesday, Matt took me to a Habitat outreach meeting with a Hasidic community in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. What a trip! This neighborhood had signs in Yiddish, and everything was Jewish; from the delis, to the bakeries, to the health centers. It was so interesting to see, what I call, real Jews. I say that because, in the Bay Area, the Jews just don’t seem that into it. They’ll go to temple and take off school for the holidays, but other than that, they don’t really care or believe in what they claim. These guys, on the other hand, were legit. And I even think that they were from Israel. They wore conservative formal attire, complete with a __. They had untrimmed beards and bore the curling side-locks. The spoke with heavy Yiddish accents, and offered us pastries when we sat down.

Matt and Yaka (another Habitat representative) explained the program for them, while I took notes. Before the meeting, Matt had given me a little background information. Apparently, Habitat rarely works with Hasidic Jews because of the difficulties their religious and cultural traditions bring. For example, Jewish homes (according to this particular sect) need to be within a certain walking distance of a synagogue. If it is too far away, it will violate the Sabbath because they can only travel a certain distance on foot, and are not allowed to drive on this sacred day of rest. Another complication is the allocated volunteer time slots for religious organizations. Since most of the religious communities that Habitat works with worship on Sunday, they request volunteers comes on Saturday. The Jewish Sabbath, however, is on Saturday. Another prospective complication is the green architecture employed by Habitat's developers. You wouldn't think it would be a big deal, but automatic lights actually violate the Sabbath also. When the sun goes down on Friday, the Jews cannot use electricity until the Sabbath is over.

Overall, though, these guys were very impressed with Habitat, and were interested in working with them.

I ended up taking the day off of work on Thursday to catch up on my sleep and just to relax. I slept in until about noon, and then started practicing spoken word poetry…which we’ll get to in a moment. I read some more of Irresistible Revolution, and did some praying over NYCUP’s ministry.

Something that God has been showing me over the summer is that, while there is a tremendous darkness permeating New York City, Jesus is fighting back. Despite the diseases of society that infected this area – poverty, homelessness, institutionalized racism, human trafficking etc. – God is rising up His sons and daughters to bring healing to those places where the sickness is strongest. I was so encouraged to think about everyone’s internships and how God is using them to bring His healing to this broken world. In turn, I just want to thank my roommates for their obedience to the Word of God.

Nathan and Bethany, thank you for feeding the hungry. Will, Jon and Niki, thank you for dreaming up a gift for the poor. Francis and Stephanie, thank you for loving and guiding the children. Mike and Anson, thank you for fighting for freedom for the slaves. Melissa and Michelle, thank you for exalting these things before us to give hope to the poor and disenfranchised

Friday was good. I was finally feeling alive again, and got a lot of work done at the office. I still have a long way to go, but I’m gaining some real momentum on the Appendix, as well as a Community Resource Manuel for the future residents of the Hart-Lafayette Apartments. I was also asked to run a informational booth at Melissa and Michelle’s Hope Fair on August 1. I have to confess, though, I spent the last hour of work on Friday looking up things to do in New York City for the weekend. After work, we had catered Italian again, and went over to Casa Promesa for a worship night.

Four of the interns, including myself, had to opportunity to share some things on our hearts. Mike and Bethany played songs that really impacted them, while Niki and I shared poems about things God has been speaking to us. My poem was called “Emmanuel” and it talks about God’s immediate presence in our life. To enhance my debut spoken-word performance, Jonathan Walton played what he referred to as “raindrops” on his drum. I was so unbelievably nervous, but I’m glad I did it.

Saturday was exhausting, but so blessed at the same time. NYCUP was to help out at the Love Kitchen’s Feed 500 event, which is a bi-weekly cookout for the local poor and homeless. A bunch of Americorps volunteers and Intervarsity Staff came to help out, as well. Half of the volunteers took bagged lunches and roamed the streets while the rest manned several grills at a local park along the Hudson. It was really hot and humid outside, as usual, and I was still recovering from my cold. I opted out of any active labor, so I retreated to the shade where many of our “customers” had sat to eat their free meal. I met this awesome guy named Sydney, who I’ll talk about later. I was really encouraged by his love for people, and the joy he took in getting to know strangers and turning them in to friends.

Afterwards, everyone went their separate ways to later regroup for dinner in the Village. I went back to the house to relax, while most everyone else went kayaking in the Hudson. Mike and Stephanie went to a Bachata studio. We all reunited at a Korean restaurant on St. Mark’s Ave (the New York equivalent of Haight and Ashbury.) It was exquisite. I’d say it was much more flavorful and spicy than Chinese or Japanese food, and perhaps more complex in composition than Thai food.

There was much debate out what we should do for the evening. Some wanted to go to this pool hall in West Village, some wanted to do karaoke, some wanted to Inception (which was sold out), and some wanted to go shopping. No one could really agree so we all split up for the night. Jon, Niki and I ended up visiting union square, where we saw street performers doing gymnastics and jumping over people. After we relaxed at this fair trade coffee shop, and talked about life until about 11:30pm.

On our way to the train, we stumbled upon this dangerously intoxicated high school student lying on the sidewalk. He was lost and without any money or a cell phone. We subsequently helped him get home, and arrived back at our house around 2:30am. This, my friends, deserves a post of its own, because it was quite an adventure.

Sunday we went to Manhattan Bible Church, in Washington Heights, and then to Shake Shack for lunch. I didn’t have to wait in line for an hour and a half this time.

Week 2

This week started off with a bang, but then sort of died down. Monday morning, the entire advocacy department went to a protest outside of City Hall. This coalition called Real Rent Reform (a.k.a. R3) organized a civil disobedience rally to pressure the local legislators to repeal something called "vacancy decontrol." Armed with megaphones, and accompanied by dancers and a marching band, the protesters voiced their cries of discontent, and 13 were arrested for blocking the doors of an office building.

Basically, here in New York, landlords have little to no active regulation regarding their activity. This gives very little restrictions when it comes to rent and evictions. They've been able to (illegally) double or even triple tenants' rent for various reasons (i.e. painting, minor repairs etc.) without notifying them in advance. The law says you can only raise someone's rent by 1/40th for major alterations such as modernizing kitchens of installing new air conditioning. But because of these unscrupulous landlords, many people loose their homes because they can't pay for them anymore. To fight this practice, about 200 people flooded the park outside of City Hall to join in the true American way. I must say, I sympathized, but I didn't like the anger and hatred that they conveyed in their speeches. But then again, I thought, maybe they should be angry. Families are loosing their homes.

Paige was cracking me up during this whole thing. She definitely showed her true San Francisco colors as we walked over to City Hall. With an air of sophisticated professionalism she told us "Now, we're not going to participate in the protest..." and as she produced a large Habitat for Humanity banner from her purse, she promised us that, "...and we're not going to identify ourselves, we're only going in civilian wear..." while she gleefully accepted and dawned a t-shirt from a passing R3 representative, "...we're only going to observe." She concluded, and finally accepted a whistle from the R3 rep.

You can view a video of the protest here. Try and find me in the crowd!

The rest of the week was pretty monotonous. I mostly just worked on finished up my research for Matt's curriculum. After work, Anson and I have been running. At the very least, attempting. We’ve been only going for a quick mile or so. The Spartan-300 workout Jonathon has been doing with the other guys just doesn’t sound very fun (by sound, I am literally referring to the agonizing howls and groans I hear from downstairs when everyone works out.) Tuesday, no one was at the office for some reason, and I was falling asleep on my keyboard, so I went home early to take a nap. Later on, we watched a documentary about charter schools in New York. It made me rethink my high school experience. I’m gonna elaborate on that later. This post might be kind of long already. We didn't have the boys over on Wednesday evening. For that, I was relieved, because I was unbelievably tired from all of our running around and staying up late. Thursday, I went to lunch with Lauren Majewski's childhood friend, Mandi, a graphic designer who lives in Brooklyn. While I would say she is very Brooklyn, she is very, very Parma, OH as well. It was cool, we talked about music and why we were in New York. We also had our Bible study, again. I don’t think I went into it last week…but there’s four of us: Mike Robinson (our leader), Jon Kwan, Anson and I. It’s been really cool reading Isaiah with them and talking about how it relates to our lives. I wanna go more in to these things, too. Again, another post. One day. I promise.

Friday, Matt and I met to discuss the progress of the curriculum. I had finished looking up various statistics for his program's appendix, and had accrued numerous articles to give examples of current events regarding the housing crisis. He seemed pleased with my research, for which I was glad because half the time I honestly wasn't sure what to look for. After that, he asked me how things were going for me as whole. I admitted to him my insecurities about working in an office, and the newness of a 9-5 schedule, to which he greatly empathized and offered encouragement. In response to my feelings of tediousness, he challenged me to recognize the purpose behind my work and to recognize the intersection between justice and faith.

I’m not just looking things up. I’m not just writing things down. I not just learning about the politics of New York City. I’m helping to piece together a puzzle of knowledge for faith-leaders to use to inform their congregations about the injustice around them. I’m going to help Habitat elevate the conversation of foreclosures, and mortgage rescue scams, and rent stabilization in the religious community of New York City. Hopefully, with God’s help, this educational experience Matt is planning for the fall will start to stir the political agenda regarding the Housing Crisis.

After work on Friday, the NYCUP interns and I all went to this high-rise office near Time's Square to hear a presentation about the Nomi Network, along with a bunch of anonymous socially-conscious entrepenuers, who we overwhelmed with our attendence. In short, it's a non-profit started by these two fashionistas from the West Coast which bridges the private, public, and non-profit sectors through enterprise and education to end human trafficking in Cambodia. They mainly sell purses crafted by liberated slaves, and send 100% of the profits to Cambodia to keep women out of brothels. The purpose of the meeting was to network, recruit, and brainstorm new ideas to expand their orginization. I must confess, I was slightly tired by this point, and didn't want to go, but it was cool to see how God is using these two girl's love for fashion to fight injustice in Cambodia. Very encouraging.

Once again, I had an amazing weekend. Once again, I got a delightful amount of extra rest. Some of the interns went home on Saturday, but the rest of us took the ferry to Governor's Island and rented bikes. We rode around for a couple hours, enjoying the weather and one another's company. Around 5ish, Melissa showed us around her neighborhood in Chinatown and we got bubble tea and tempura. We went in a couple shops, and bought some Chinese sweet bread. We reached out to a couple homeless men here and there. We gave each of them business cards to the Love Kitchen, where they could get a free dinner.

Some of the girls wanted to window shop in SoHo. Mike, Anson, Stephanie and I were on the same page, however: we just wanted to sit down after biking and walking around all day. We chilled in Starbucks on Broadway for 20 minutes, while the other girls shopped til they dropped. We had an impromptu, and unfortunately very short, game of hide-and-seek in a three-story Hollister where two shirtless male models stood guard at the doors. We got dinner to go at a Mediterranean place, and ate it on this park in the sky in the Chelsea neighborhood. It used to be a subway line, but it was turned into a suspended walkway lined with wild plants. Finally, we went home and watched the Book of Eli.

Sunday, some of the interns lead worship at Casa Promesa. Bethany and Mike were on guitar and vocals, while Anson tore up the piano and Jon played the flute. I decided to head back over to Riverside Park, again, and go read or something. On my way over here to Starbucks, an elderly toothless homeless man approached me. He told he was diabetic and had stomach cancer, and needed some steamed vegetables to eat. He begged for money, so I went in the cafe we were standing in front of to "get some cash", but really I just looked at their menu and subsequently offered to treat him to lunch. He declined, and stormed away when I told him I don't give out money.

My time in the park was really peaceful. It’s so beautiful there. I sat in the sun and prayed and read Irresistible Revolution. I didn’t have a pen, so I couldn’t write anything. But overall, I’m really glad to have had some time alone. Too bad I woke up on Monday with a cold!

Prayer Requests:
-Healing. I've got a sore throat, runny nose. I don’t know where it came from! Rebuke it from afar, my friends, in Jesus’ name.
-Coolness. It’s so hot here. I’m not used to the humidity, and it makes my experience here slightly less enjoyable because I’m perpetually sweating.
-Focus at work. Like I said earlier, I’m not used to the 8 hour shift, and it gets so old reading articles and executive reports all day.
-God’s eyes. That has been the cry my heart lately, just to see things the way He does. Whether that is a situation that I’m uncomfortable in, or a person who I may be weary of, I want to look at things with God’s holistic and transcendental perspective.

Week 1

Because of the holiday, most of our internships didn’t start this last Monday. We didn’t have anything scheduled, so we went exploring in the Heights. This neighborhood was mostly the same as the Bronx, but slightly more wealthy. Because the Heights are in wealthy and corporate Manhattan, it is automatically given higher revenue. It was so hot that day. I have to confess that I wasn’t really up for another day of walking around in the sun. I was still pretty jet-lagged, and my body wasn’t used to the high level of moisture in the air. Thankfully, we all took a nap in a park for 2 hours. Praise God.

When we came back, the kitchen team and myself had to go shopping for dinner. Afterwards, we all went down to the nearest public school to play ball with the neighborhood kids. We played handball, and knockout. I tried to teach them hacky-sack, but to no avail. I think they were too young.

That Tuesday, finally, was the big day. My first day in the office! I got up really early, so I wouldn’t be late for work. I ironed my business casual attire the night before, and hopped on the 4-train around 7:45am to ensure my arrival by or before 9am. The subway was packed in the morning, so much so that I couldn’t sit down at all for the half-hour ride. I must say, after being in the ghetto for a week, it was a little shocking emerging from the subway into the bustling and affluent Financial District of lower Manhattan. Such a contrast to where I’d been. I saw white people. I saw people in designer business clothes. I heard the English language. I saw Starbucks and CVS. So strange.

When I got to 111 John St, I took the elevator to the 23rd floor and met my supervisors Paige Bellenbaum and Matt Dunbar, who were interestingly both from California. They started me off with an orientation of their organization. I spent the first 4 hours of work reading about Habitat for Humanity; what they stand for, what they do, why they do it etc. It was grueling pouring over all these pamphlets and fact sheets and web pages, but so eye opening. I’ve grown to quickly respect this non-profit. Habitat for Humanity acts as a counter-attack against the housing crisis, by building affordable homes. Like they say in their literature, they are not “a hand out, but a hand up.” Habitat doesn’t give out free housing, but they partner with people to build affordable, high quality homes that they will own. The families’ payment is their “sweat equity”, meaning their minimum hours working on their own future house. I love that concept. They do have to pay off a mortgage, but Habitat ensures that it’s at a rate that is 30% of their income or lower.

Then there’s the Advocacy Department, which is Habitat’s watchdog. They monitor the local politics of housing, lobby for specific bills, then educate and empower people to fight for the cause of affordable housing. I got to see what exactly they’re fighting for that coming Friday.
We had one hell of a time trying to make dinner for everyone after work. The idea was “breakfast for dinner” so we made eggs and pancakes. What an ordeal! We didn’t have enough pans, or spatulas…and we gave everyone the option of personalized orders. It was so insane. The four of us were hurrying around, in and out of the kitchen, sweating our faces off as smoke from burnt pancakes billowed throughout the whole house. Everyone got their pancakes like an hour after they sat down to eat. Fortunately, the rest of the interns were so gracious and commended our efforts for being the first team to cook. It may not have gone smoothly, but it turned out pretty well. After dinner we watched District 9, in an attempt to discuss the realities of racism and immigration. Everyone was a little tired, though…so it didn’t last too long.

I went to work in the morning, and came back later on to face a very familiar challenge: middle school boys. Yes, middle school boys. Every Wednesday evening, the male interns will be running a bible-study for the neighborhood boys, while the girls do one for younger kids 10 and younger. And to think, I just quit middle school ministry! It looks like the Lord still has something more to teach me in this arena, doesn’t it? I still can’t believe it. This is definitely going to be a huge challenge for me; these boys from the next block are wild. They fight each other, they cuss, and they’re loud and obnoxious. They definitely don’t want to learn anything about Jesus…so they seem to convey. I don’t know why else, they’d come, though. No one is making them, not even their parents. I figure their apathy is just apart of the image, just like it is in California.

Thursday, I had a bunch of meetings at the office, but none that pertained specifically to me. My presence was more for my own exposure and education than anything else. They talked about fundraising and networking for the Advocacy Department. Later on, however, Paige, Matt and I tried to come up with a name for the faith-based advocacy training. I’ll have to post the names later, they’re pretty hilarious. My contribution was “F.A.I.R. = Faith Advocacy Is Rad."

After work, we had a bible study in small groups and we read through Isaiah 6. We talked about things that God needed to redeem or change in us, as well as where we are being called to. Again, this is something that deserves a post of its own.

Casual Friday was such an awesome day! I met up with my supervisor, Matt, in another part of the South Bronx to check out one of Habitat’s current projects. First of all, I’d like to point out the goodness of God by revealing to me that my boss is a total hipster. He’s a surfer who plays the drums, and dresses in plaid and skinny jeans. And he at least recognized the name Sufjan Stevens. Can it get any better? Oh, yes it can. After we checked out the projects in the Bronx and later in Brooklyn, we went to lunch at a coffee shop called Tiny Cup. It was amazing. Vegan entrees, art on the wall, the Rolling Stones and the Beatles playing in the background, abstract mobiles hanging from the ceiling. And of course, a young unshaven woman in a cowgirl hat jadedly manned the cashier. I think my boss and I are going to get along quite nicely.

Now that that’s out in the open…the apartments that Habitat builds are huge and environmentally friendly. Not only are they spacious, but also they conserve energy. I was very impressed. I guess because I knew it was non-profit, and was funded by donations, I figured they would be pretty small homes. Not at all! Habitat’s family partners really earn themselves a nice place to live. It was really cool to see an example of that I’d be helping work towards this month, especially after a week of data entry.

This first set of apartments was different, though, than Habitat’s usual model for development. They normally build up from nothing, but this project is being accomplished through a partnership with another developer. The developer was already building a 60-unit apartment complex, but gave Habitat 14 of them to use at their disposal. Over in Brooklyn, however, they had three four-story town-homes in the making. They were equally as impressive.

Saturday was equally as amazing. I got to sleep in until almost noon. Afterwards, everyone went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, outside of Central Park, where we spent like three hours walking around looking at all this art from various time periods and cultures. Specifically, we saw ancient arms and amor, musical instruments since the dawn of time, and then jumped over to the modern art exhibit for some delightful abstract paintings. Later, we saw the movie Despicable Me, and went for pizza afterwards. Nathan, who grew up in Harlem, took us to a sweet park on the edge of the Hudson River to watch the sunset over New Jersey. It was beautiful, even better than Central Park; right on the water, facing the sunset, three levels including a walkway, a grassy area and then various ball courts. We found this adult-sized playground, and pogo sticks. After we got back to the house, Mike and Frances taught everyone Salsa and Bachata, so we danced late into the night in the living room. Good times.

World Cup party! The interns – as well as that same crowd of random people who came to the 4th of July BBQ – spent the whole day after church at some upscale coffee shop in the Village watching the game. It was a good time. We had a private room with a huge flat screen and couches and everything. Most of you know, I don’t really follow sports…but the game was so enthralling. Everyone was going for Spain, but I was going for the Netherlands. The teams were so evenly matched…it definitely wasn’t boring. Especially with all those yellow cards the Dutch got. After 120 minutes of no scoring, however, I was getting a little fidgety. I must say, I did enjoy watching the Dutch employ gratuitously aggresive defense on the Spanish. Anyone see that kick to the chest?

Things are going really well here. I can’t believe how short the time has been. It’s gonna be an awesome month.

Prayer Requests:
-Safety
-Good rest
-Purpose-driven focus and mindset at work
-Authentic relationships with my fellow interns, my leaders, and the neighborhood boys
-Security in God’s word
-Finances

Orientation

Forgive me for the delay. I haven't had time to write any of what's been going on down and post it. But I brought my laptop to work, so here is a rather lengthy update...

Our first night was pretty low-key. Everyone arrived and got settled, and was welcomed in with a delicious BBQ. We played hacky-sack and soccer with the neighborhood kids who were connected to the ministry. The BBQ was advertised as a free cook-out, so passer-bys would actually come to eat with us. There was actually another church group, who had been doing construction on the church, who joined us. Because they were there, we weren’t able to sleep in our actual rooms. But they were leaving the next day, so it wasn’t a big deal.

That next Friday was a long day. After breakfast, we moved into our permanent sleeping quarters and then met in the living room and shared our life stories. Yep, all 12 of us. Plus our 5 staff members. We were given a poster-board and colors to make a visual as well as give a 10-minute synopsis of our lives. It was such a cool experience. It took 6 hours, but it was so worth it. I loved hearing where everyone had come from. What really stuck out to me was that, despite our differences, we all shared a common thread: we loved Jesus, and we were trying to follow Him wherever He was leading us. Unfortunately, I don’t think I did a very good job at explaining myself. It’s hard for me to be completely authentic in a room full of strangers. I didn’t necessarily feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable to the extent that everyone else was. Oh well, I know I have 6 weeks to get to know these people. I loved hearing everyone else’s story, though. In between all of this, we ordered subway for lunch and ate some amazing catered Italian food.

Saturday was fun. We split into teams and explored the neighborhood via photo-scavenger hunt. It was very telling of the nature of our setting. I’m starting to realize that the institutions and services available in a community reflected the socio-economic statuses present in the residents. Everything is all very close together in the South Bronx. You could walk a couple blocks and find everything you’d ever need. There are liquor and grocery stores, as well as Laundromats and pharmacies on pretty much every corner. Most things are discounted, and there are quite a few 99-cent stores. Many places sold trendy belts and sunglasses outside of their doors as well as prepaid phones. I noticed quite a few check cashing stations with wiring services to Latin America, but very few banks. There are a lot of small churches, as well as mosques and at least one psychic who reads palms. We discussed the meaning of all this later at the house. Basically, everything we found was representative of a low-income, predominately Latino neighborhood. It was interesting the learn the double meaning of some things. For example, prepaid cell phones were not only indicative of a lack of money, but indicative of a presence of drug dealers, who use multiple phones to avoid being tracked by the police. Learn something new every day.

After this day of investigation, a lot of my anxieties about the South Bronx had been put to rest. I can’t really explain why. There are still drug dealers. There are still gangsters. But I guess I know my way around a little better now. For some reason, that puts me at ease.

On the 4th of July, we had yet another BBQ, but this time at Jonathon’s house in Washington Heights. Some of his Columbia Alum friends came over, as well as former NYCUP interns from past summers. It was chill. We played cards and ate lots and lots of hot dogs. Overall, pretty mellow, for a 4th of July party…but I think everyone was lethargic from the heat. Ever since I had first arrived, it had been steadily getting hotter and more humid by the day. As you read this, I’m probably still drenched in sweat.

Earlier that day, we attended our first church service. For the duration of my time here in New York, I will be attending a squatting church service held in a care center for the terminally ill. We all worshipped with AIDS and cancer patients, who were literally on their deathbeds. I was so challenged by their faith. All of them were in pain, and didn’t even know if they’d see tomorrow, but they sung at the top of their lungs with an indelible joy and hope I had never seen. I cried the entire time. I wanted a faith like that. I wanted a faith that was strong enough to face anything.