Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Report on worship at City Hope Ministries
The following report about worship at City Hope Ministries, a Worship Renewal Grant recipient in 2006, was published in the “FYI” newsletter of Christian Reformed Home Missions. It was written by Jim Steenbergen, CRHM’s development officer. It is printed here by permission of the author.
I love the LORD, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy. Because he turned his ear to me, I will call on him as long as I live. (Psalm 116:1-2)It has been a long time since I have been to a church where people laughed, smiled, hugged, danced, held hands, spoke to one another, prayed upon each other, and just plum had a good time all in one service. But this was just another Sunday at City Hope Ministries, a newer ministry that is partly funded by Christian Reformed Home Missions.
Except this wasn’t just another Sunday. It was a Sunday where I witnessed three people give their lives over to Jesus and accept Him as their Savior. It was a Sunday where a woman, seeing me there alone, came over and sat with me and asked me if I knew Jesus. Only afterwards did I find out that she was on the very fringe of our society, just fighting to make it everyday. And she cared about me and wanted to know if she could help me in my walk!
Her story is like so many others from the Burton Heights Neighborhood, where City Hope is located. This neighborhood is home to some of the most marginalized residents in the city of Grand Rapids. Crumbling, gutted-out homes pepper the struggling community. Overgrown alleys, empty lots, trash on curbs, and graffiti serve as constant reminders that this place is, in many ways, forgotten. Parents walking their kids to nearby Jefferson Elementary School pass by hoodlums and dope dealers standing on corners. The sound of gunshots is all too familiar; in fact, the weekend before my visit, a fifteen-year-old was arrested for shooting into a crowd of teens a block or so from the church. And the weary expressions on the faces of many of those attending City Hope bear the signs of the obvious struggles they face each day just to make it.
Yet, in spite of it all, these folks exude joy, peace, and happiness. It practically spills from their pores. During this service, they rocked the house for a full thirty minutes, just singing out praise to their heavenly Father. Prayer wasn’t a fancy affair; it was an honest conversation with God. Testimonies were not eloquent, but they sure made sense. The message wasn’t watered down like bad church coffee, but neither was it scripted and pre-planned. The message was real and it was moving and it hit me so hard I forgot to breathe.
I grew up with a very different worship experience. Some people called it quiet reverence to God, but to new believers that reverence was probably indistinguishable from somberness. I am not trying to suggest that there is a right way to worship, a right way to sing, or a right way to evangelize. But I can tell you they are doing something right at City Hope Ministries. It may be because each week they welcome the women of Mel Trotter Ministries to worship side-by-side with them. It might be the fact that many of the members have so very little, but are still so willing to share with others. It may be the fact that for a full 45 minutes, Pastor Rik Stevenson eloquently incited the words of the psalmist who wrote Psalm 116, and had people laughing as he related those words to real life. Or maybe it was the one-man-band musician who easily handled drums, piano, and guitar (obviously no budget for a big production) and was mind-blowing in his ability. Or maybe it was the strangers hugging me as I entered the building on that Sunday morning.
I am not exactly an emotional person. I tend to be quite reserved, even dead pan at times. Yet as I worshipped on that Sunday morning, tears flowed freely from my eyes. I cried as I sang, I cried as I prayed, I cried as I listened. Every one of those tears was a tear of joy. I know worship is just one small part of our Christian life, that there is so much more to it all. But I wondered if it should start like this.
Again, it wasn’t just another Sunday at City Hope Ministries; it was a moment in time where the transforming power of the Holy Spirit descended upon a group of ordinary folks and our Father said: I am here, I am listening.
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