The Lord's Rain at 6: "We couldn't get by without it!"

In the flurry of events over the past two months, it was anti-climactic for us to look at one another last Friday (May 2) and say, "Oh! The sixth anniversary was on Wednesday!"

Nonetheless, April 30 marked six years since we fired up the water heater, put on the coffee and switched on the ersatz neon "OPEN" sign for the first time. Now, more than 6100 showers have been taken, which, given our limited opening times (especially in the early going), is a pretty impressive figure. The space has also served as a place where people with disabilities can take part in the services -- particularly the Sunday afternoon services -- thanks to our closed-circuit TV system.

It was Marty, the once and future teacher -- still working towards his ESL-teaching ticket -- who gave the frank assessment of the way The Lord's Rain meets a basic need on the Downtown East Side. "There are so many places around here, where the showers don't work," he said. "One place I was in: I would wait until 3 or 4 in the morning, when the cleaning guy would do my floor, and as soon as I'd hear him go, I'd get up and rush in there and have my shower. Otherwise, you're stepping over needles and feces and ..." He trailed off, seeing that I got the picture.

It all comes back to the initial thought that got the ball rolling -- the summer evening 10 years ago, when I walked into Rainbow Mission for the first time and was hit by a human stench like a 50-lb sack of poi -- "how can people live like this?" Answer: they can't, and when the Lord brought all the elements together -- the people, the finances and the supplies (the people, especially) -- to make it a reality, starting in the fall of 2007.

No, that's not true: we only started to see it in the fall of 2007. In preparing presentations for various groups (most recently, a youth group at Hope Chapel on Maui -- hence the reference to poi, above), I've spent quite a bit of time reverse-engineering the process that led to The Lord's Rain being built, and I've realized that elements were put in place decades ago. I like to refer to the directions for the building of the tabernacle by the Israelites after they'd left Egypt. Huge amount of pure gold are required, but where would they get it? Answer: it was the gold they'd taken from their Egyptian neighbors. They may have thought it would be for trading once they reached the Promised Land, but in reality, God intended it for the tabernacle all along. In the same way, the preparations of one's heart, the connections and the "chance" encounters over many years have led to this point -- and who knows what else?

If you look back over much of your own life, you'll probably see how the connections have unfolded -- seemingly unrelated connections, too -- that all fit together. In other words, God puts His ducks in a row long before we even know there's a pond.

The Lord's Rain has meant different things to different people, as you can see in this clip. We've also seen people grow out of their past lives and become the servers where they used to be the servees. Herbie, Gary, Danilo, Joanne ... all have stepped into roles that are showing them that they're able to help others, and do so with a measure of compassion because they've Been There, too.

The Lord's Rain has also afforded Janet the opportunity to grow into the role that God has for her. She took on the job of Assistant Pastor and leader of The Lord's Rain in the fall of 2012 and has helped develop Ladies' Day (Monday mornings) and opening times in afternoons and middays. She is one of the most loving and compassionate people I know, dedicated to the Mission and its people; her ability to speak into people's lives astounds me.

"Pastor, come out here!"

Barbara is a 50-something woman who gets around on a walker. She usually just comes in to get a coffee and leave, but this time, she only stuck her head in and called to me. She evidently figured the street was more "private" than The Lord's Rain, and she's probably right. I came out and joined her and Lisa, a woman who looked only slightly younger. 

"We're burying my brother today," she said. "Will you pray for me?" Of course. "And I also found out my other brother died around Christmas and they didn't tell me because I have a bad heart."

As we talked and prayed, it turned out that Lisa was Barbara's granddaughter. 

Granddaughter?

I had taken Lisa to be a good friend or possibly a younger sister. Such are the ravages of drug use - premature aging, losing teeth, etc. This is why I have little time for those who promote any kind of treatment for drug abuse that doesn't get the person off drugs. It's chic to sneer at the Americans' "War on Drugs", but -- and I know I've said this before -- the "non-aggression pact" Canada has pursued with drugs hasn't been much use, either. 

I can't remember seeing Barbara come to the Mission services, either upstairs or on the TV hookup downstairs. But even though we've made a point not to be overtly evangelical at The Lord's Rain, people still know they can get comfort -- or just unload their troubles on someone -- there. It's an ongoing "service" that we never thought we'd be providing -- along with the showers.

Connections ...

Pastor Reggie, outside the strip joint in the Bronx
(nicked from NY Daily News)

Reggie Stutzman, who was pastor at the Bowery Mission when I made that "fateful" visit in 2007 and saw their showers facility, has a challenge in front of him: trying to claim a building for the Lord in South Bronx. Reggie's current church, Real Life Church, in Hunt's Point, needs a permanent space and they've been trying to raise the money to buy a building currently occupied by a strip club.

It's not dissimilar from the way The Lord's Rain came into being. Our storefront space at 327 Carrall Street was formerly occupied by an anarchist organization (isn't that an oxymoron?) and before that, a drug-needle exchange and supervised injection site (prior to the opening of InSite, further up the street). Truly, God claimed this building for His own purpose, so there is a precedent for Him to do the same in the Bronx. I'll pass along any updates.

"You Can Do It" - and the Love Stimulus

The past five weeks have been taken up with people involved with Gospel Mission Society, stepping in to help sort through the various tasks that needed to be done following the sudden passing of Pastor Barry. On top of that, there's been the need to reassure the people we serve in the Hastings Central area that Gospel Mission and The Lord's Rain will continue. Certainly, the Mission has survived since 1929 through all sorts of challenges and it will survive the next few months as things get sorted out; but humans tend to look at any current situation as being permanent and need to be reminded that things do change and in faith, difficulties are overcome: stumbling blocks, in fact, turn into stepping stones.

We held the Annual General Meeting of the Gospel Mission Society last night, and as I left, I ran into Joseph, one of our native brothers who often comes into The Lord's Rain. He's one of many of whom I can truly say I have seen at his best and at his worst. A few years ago, he stumbled into our Saturday night service and promptly fell asleep on one of the benches. We finished the service and cleaned up, figuring we'd wait until we were ready to close up before waking him. But when we couldn't wake him, that was when we saw the row of staples in his scalp. Our natural reaction: "head injury! Won't wake up! Call 911!" Which was what we did. 

But Joseph has also come into the Mission and The Lord's Rain, asking questions about the Bible and definitely contemplating the world around him in that context. Whenever I talk to him, he tends to contemplate a lot before responding -- although he does have a quick laugh with a tendency towards sardonic humor -- and his responses are well-considered. It often feels like he sees the world around him as terribly out-of-joint with what he knows from the Bible, and he has no idea what to do about it -- rather like Jackson Browne's heart-wrenching lyrics, "I have done all that I could/To see the evil and the good without hiding/You must help me if you can." 

Indeed, I've often thought there's something of the evangelist in him, because he certainly knows his Scripture and has a very engaging personality -- even when he's drunk. (You have to understand some of the dynamics of the people in the Hastings Central area to know that you can't really dismiss the notion of someone who's an alcoholic leading others who are alcoholic. It's not a case of the blind leading the blind, as much as it is the "can't-see" being led by the "want-to-see". I think that makes sense.)

So when I came out of the Mission, Joseph wanted to know what I was doing in the 'hood. I told him about the challenges. "You can do it," he said. "Nothing is impossible."

It's not unusual for one of the "street people" to say something that absolutely boosts one's confidence. It's one thing for us in the Ministry to encourage one another, but when one of the people we serve speaks even a couple of words straight from the heart like that, it reminds us what we're there for.

***

"Have you got a place for the night?" I asked Joseph.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Blood Alley." He paused, and then broke into a grin. "I've beat up enough people there, I might as well sleep there!"

(Despite its rather violent-sounding name in an area known for lawlessness since the Gold Rush days, Blood Alley actually got its name from the butcher shop that would toss entrails, etc., out the back door. It's tempting to say that the place was pretty "offal", but we must respect our boundaries, so I won't.)

Evidently, Joseph, Bruce and Jeremy -- two other native chaps who were with him last night -- fall into the category of "street homeless", which, apparently, has grown in number in the past year, despite the hard work by very dedicated people like my dear friend Judy Graves, who "retired" as the city's housing advocate a year ago but still champions the cause, and Mayor Gregor Robertson and his staff. There are a number of things on which I don't agree with Hizzoner, but there's no denying progress has been made. Sadly, the newspaper reporting on the prediction that the annual Homeless Count would be up from last year focused on the political reaction, given that Mayor Robertson had promised to eliminate street homelessness by next year and this is an election year. His opponents were quick to sneer at this "broken campaign promise"; as I've often said, the view from the press box is always better than the view on the ice. But for all the political jousting, the fact remains that there are still Josephs, Bruces and Jeremys in our town who spend their evenings choosing their alleys, park benches or patches of grass.

"Better pray for him, Pastor," Joseph said, motioning to Bruce. "Welfare screwed me around, man," Bruce said, more in bewilderment than anger. I'm not sure what exactly happened, but the bottom line is, he didn't have a place. "Me too," put in Jeremy. And so we did. 

***

Responds well to stimuli ... 

Jeremy often comes into The Lord's Rain right at opening time -- 6:30 or 7 -- and lies down on one of the benches and goes to sleep. Probably the best sleep he gets, and we certainly don't try to roust him out. He has a violent streak and has the build of an MMA fighter and I must admit, I'm a bit leery when he comes in (probably a good reason to let him sleep). But this past Saturday, I got to see a different side. I had taken him upstairs to the Mission so he could use the washroom; when he came out, he saw me leafing through one of the Bibles. "Read me something," he said. I turned to Psalm 91 ("He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High/Shall abide in the shadow of the Almighty"). It's about the way the Lord protects those who put their trust in Him. Jeremy listened carefully, and when I had finished, said, "thanks!" "You understand what it means? Stay close to Him and He will protect you." He contemplated that, then nodded and hugged me. 

One never knows what fruit the seeds we sow will bear. But this I do know, Jeremy has a less threatening demeanor: he responds well to the "love stimulus".

Homelessness, politics, and what would Jesus do?

Today's Vancouver Sun has an item that would be of great concern to the people who have been working so hard to end homelessness in the city -- and who have made a political stake in that effort. The annual homeless count is expected to show a sharp increase, despite the efforts of the past few years and Mayor Gregor Robertson's campaign promise of 2008 to end homelessness by 2015.

I've pointed out in the past that there is a subtle difference between that campaign promise and the stated goal today; the Mayor talks of street homelessness, but his promise in 2008 was to eliminate homelessness, which I contend is decidedly different. But today's item points out what a complex task this is, relying as it does on different levels of government, each with its own agenda, and ultimately on the good will of the people who actually have the money to build housing. It's easy to make a campaign commitment; it's even easier to point and sneer when that commitment isn't met (behold the turtle, who only makes progress when he sticks his neck out); there's no shortage of reasons why things haven't gone as planned.

But what about the people who are really affected by this -- and I don't mean Gregor Robertson's campaign workers or Penny Ballem's staff? We're talking about people who need a place to live -- the homeless, drug-addicted, mentally ill -- who have become, once again, socio-political footballs. Once again, The Man has let them down, as he always does. The inconvenient truth is that we need to wean people off the idea that their problems are going to be solved by any kind of worldly means.

What would Jesus do about the homelessness situation? Would He blockade construction sites or picket incoming businesses? Would He demand politicians do something? Did He make claims about "rights" or condone law-breaking?

Throughout the Gospel, Jesus reminds us about our responsibility to the poor. But at the end of the day, people who are convicted and motivated to live up to that responsibility are not moved by shame or guilt, bullying or threats, but do so out of love -- because Jesus is God and God is Love. Love -- not money, jobs, cheap housing, addiction programs -- is THE MOST IMPORTANT THING (what could be more important than God?): love your enemies; pray for those who use you spitefully.

So when you see and hear about demonstrations and protests and activists vowing to block development until they get what they want and saying things like, "we don't want those kind of people here" (referring to developers and higher-income folks moving into new projects in the Central Hastings area), we need to ask where the love is. If the love isn't there, then neither is Jesus ... and neither is God ... and neither is any blessing.

Trust me: developers and politicians -- like any human being -- respond really well to love.

Some might compare activism like protesting and blockading to Jesus' clearing out the Temple, but His actions in kicking over the tables and driving out the merchants were only half of what He did that day. He then "taught them ... 'Is it not written, "My house shall be called of all nations the house of prayer, but ye have made it a den of thieves"?'" (Mark 11:17 KJV). Matthew records that He then healed people.

Do we have something to teach those we disagree with? Are we able to heal?

Do we know better than God, what the solution to a problem should be?

If we approach the situation in love, with forgiveness and meekness of heart, we allow God in. Situations that don't look right to us start to gain meaning and we start to see what God is up to by putting us and others into those situations. Sure, they don't look right, but remember that, when Jesus was crucified, that didn't look terribly "right" to a lot of people -- but look what happened next.

Farewell to the leader - Barry Babcook, 1957-2014

Over the past several years, I've written quite a few "farewells" to people we have known through The Lord's Rain and Gospel Mission and who have passed on, like Barry Smith, "Junior", Tina, Pete, Richard's "ol' lady", and others.

I never thought I'd be writing this one.

Barry Babcook, senior pastor at Gospel Mission for the past 18 years, died Monday night at the age of 56. About a month ago, he was diagnosed with cancer in multiple parts of his body. It's hard to say why it went unnoticed for so long -- what symptoms were noticed were put down to other things; but by the time he went for surgery to remove the tumor from his colon, it was so far advanced there was nothing doctors could do except leave him sedated and on life support.

That was on Saturday. This afternoon, they removed the life support, and just after 7 pm, he was gone.

Barry had actually ministered on the Downtown East Side since he was a teenager, freshly delivered from some pretty evil stuff, himself. He started out as a street preacher -- his wife, Judy, recalls that their first date was preaching in Gastown on a Saturday night. Barry's "sermons" mainly consisted of declaring, "Jesus loves you!" to the alcoholics and homeless. I never heard him preach on hellfire and damnation -- although he never denied that part of it -- but he kept coming back to that simple, eternal message that, whatever the "world" might think of you, God loves you to the end. I see other street preachers around Vancouver -- usually on Granville Mall -- who hit the "sinners burn in hell" message pretty hard, and I wonder how many people they're really reaching and how many just walk on by, their ears dull of hearing and their eyes closed (Matt. 13:15). But I know this: countless people came to know the Lord because of Barry's loving, persistent message.

Barry and Judy ministered for several years in Taiwan, while Barry taught English. They adopted their two children -- Sheri from Taiwan, Anthony from a reserve on Northern Vancouver Island. Judy leads Worship at the Gospel Mission Sunday services, Sheri cooks in the kitchen and Anthony, who has grown into a strong young man of God (and a rock through this recent time) often preaches the sermon. Barry was also one of the driving forces behind The Rock Church, which would meet in the Mission on Sunday evenings: he called it a "Jesus jam session", with music, prayer, teaching and general all-around Worship.  

Some of the other uses for 327 Carrall
have been less "convenient" for us
than the grocery store.

One of the temptations on the Downtown East Side is to get caught up in the politics and activism there. With so much despair in the area, it's easy to cry out about injustice and inequality and demand that someone else do something about it; sometimes, that involves defying the laws of the land. The problem is, the Bible commands us to obey those laws, regardless of how we feel about those laws. Barry somehow managed to stay above that, emerging more as an "actionist" -- someone who does what he or she can to address those issues -- and I believe that's what has made Gospel Mission unique and helped it thrive over the years. 

Not that there weren't battles -- maybe "skirmishes" is a better word. In recent years, the Sunday street market -- where people from the area gather in Pigeon Park to hawk items of questionable provenance -- has been a particular bugaboo. Barry constantly had to make sure the pathway to the Mission door was kept clear so people could come to the services; he also had to pester City Hall to install portable toilets so people wouldn't relieve themselves in the alley. Inside the building, he had to deal with the anarchist "resistance" group that occupied one of the ground floor spaces for several years, and before that, the space was a needle exchange and a "supervised" drug injection site, before that was made legal and moved elsewhere. Barry prayed constantly for the people involved with those endeavors, that they would come to know the Lord. As many of you know, the night that he changed his prayer to pray that the new tenants would be Christians was one of the early signs that The Lord's Rain should come into being. That was the same night that I had mentioned to Amelia that it would be great if there was some way to provide showers for people in the area because obviously, anything that was available wasn't adequate.

With a variety of skilled tradespeople
stepping up to build The Lord's Rain,
Barry helped keep things coordinated.

It was in the building of The Lord's Rain that Barry's gifts came into play. He was an electrician by trade and a handyman -- you could say that he held the Mission together, literally as well as figuratively. If something needed to be fixed, he got it done, even if it was, technically, the landlord's responsibility. With The Lord's Rain, if I was the one who received the direction, like Moses, Barry was Bezaleel, the one skilled in the crafts needed to build it (Exodus, chapter 31). Barry was the one who put out the "fleece" (see the explanation below), that is, asking for a specific sign that it should go ahead: "So long as the money is there," he said, "we're in." 

Barry (thinks): "I'm nuts.
That's it: I must be nuts."

Barry knew the practical side of things. As we took over the space, Barry started scoping out the work to be done right away. As the project progressed and I raised funds and preened for the cameras, he quarterbacked things, knowing exactly what was needed, what questions to ask, what permits we required and how to get it all. He worked with people like Brodie Collins (plumber), Murray Scott (building contractor), and Gerry Wall and his sons, Brandon and Jordan (also builders) to coordinate the tasks. He ensured that every permit was in order, every inspection done.

The accidental archaeologist

And there was the physical work, like jackhammering through the century-old concrete foundation to replace the pipe from the city water main. When he finally cracked through, he dug down with his hands, and as he reached the pipe, discovered two things: an oyster shell and a handful of ashes.

The 300 block Carrall Street is on the site of what had been an aboriginal village around the time Vancouver was founded. And 331 Carrall Street was built in 1888, two years after the Great Vancouver Fire. You didn't need a history degree to figure out where those ashes came from. 

300-blk Carrall St., before the fire

We joked that if any antiquarians heard about it, they'd slap a stop-work order on us. Still, to be on the safe side, we took a moment to touch the ashes and the shell and connect with history, then put them back. Once the pipe was replaced, the section was re-concreted.

Barry may have shied away from the spotlight, but when we hit our financial crisis a year ago, he was able to reach out to the right people for funding we needed to stay afloat until something more secure could come in. Just before Christmas, he sent a concise but compelling letter to churches in the Apostolic Church of Pentecost, which founded Gospel Mission in 1929, detailing the current fund-matching arrangement with the R. Howard Webster Foundation. The response has been a true blessing.

Gospel Mission/The Lord's Rain today

In Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, Mark Antony states, "The evil that men do lives after them/The good is oft interrèd with their bones." That doesn't apply with Barry. I can't think of any "evil" associated with Barry, and won't, even after the initial grief has worn off; the good he has done will continue to live and manifest in ways we could never imagine. It starts with the people he directly witnessed to and counselled over nearly 40 years, continues with the hope those people gained and the others they have affected as a result; it's particularly so with The Lord's Rain, where countless people will be blessed by that outreach for years and years to come.

As we stood around in Barry's room at Ridge Meadows Hospital Monday morning, Anthony, and Stan Powers, pastor at Sonrise Church in Surrey and secretary of the Gospel Mission Society Board, recalled a piece of Scripture, which we all agreed was Barry's "life verse".

By this we know love, because He laid down His life for us. And we also ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. But whoever has this world's goods, and sees his brother in need, and shuts up his heart from him, how does the love of God abide in him? My little children, let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth. And by this we know that we are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before Him.

-- 1 John 3:16-18

-------

* 

"Putting out a fleece" refers to asking God for a specific sign that He will bless something that seems unlikely otherwise. 

In the Book of Judges, Gideon believes God has called him to go to battle against the Midianites, even though his own army is seriously outnumbered. So he tells God that he will set out a fleece overnight: if, in the morning, the fleece is wet and the ground around it dry, he'll know God will give them victory. The next day, 

the ground is dry, but Gideon

 wrings a bowlful of water out of the fleece. 

Note: there is still time to have your financial contribution doubled through the Webster Foundation's fund-matching plan. Funds raised through March 31, 2014 will be matched up to $10,000. You can donate online at www.gospelmission.net, or mail a cheque to  

Gospel Mission Society, PO Box 98802 The W PO, Vancouver, BC V6B 0M4

A great "AHA!" - What is the opposite of poverty?

And when John had heard in prison about the works of Christ, he sent two of his disciples and said to Him, "Are You the coming One, or do we look for another?"

Jesus answered and said to them, 'Go and tell John the things which you hear and see: the blind see and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up and the poor have the Gospel preached to them. And blessed is he who is not offended because of Me.'"
-- Matt. 11:2-6

We feed them, we give them shelters: what's missing?

Something has been bugging me for quite a few years, now. On the Downtown East Side -- and indeed, in impoverished areas in general -- there is always talk of "social justice": housing the homeless, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, etc. etc. The talk in Vancouver became particularly loud and fervent during the 2010 Winter Olympics, when a movement called "Share the Gold" (I think it was) was founded, purportedly to raise awareness about the poverty issues manifesting in the very shadow of two of the main Olympic venues (three, if you include the North Shore mountains, where many of the skiing events were held).

Some churches got involved (this is not to be confused with "More Than Gold", an international Christ-based outreach to take advantage of the huge influx of people in the region and bring the Gospel to them by any means possible), so I rang up one of the organizers to see if I could be involved.

I explained that, during my ministry on the DTES, I had learned that the big problem there -- beyond housing, food, income, etc. -- was a lack of hope; by bringing the Gospel to the people in that neighborhood, we can restore the hope they need to turn their lives around. I offered to share that perspective with them.

"I affirm what you're doing," the chap said, "but ..."

I can't remember exactly what came after the "but", but it had something to do with the need to focus attention on the problems and demand something be done about it -- especially with all the wealth supposedly generated by the Olympics.

(I can't stand it, by the way, when someone says they "affirm" something. Very patronizing, don't you think?)

Mind you, I'm not one to condemn anyone for being patronizing -- lately, I've looked at feeding programs and shelters and clothing giveaways and thought, "anyone can do that -- where's Jesus in all this?" I've held my tongue, because I kept thinking those thoughts themselves seemed judgmental and self-righteous. But that didn't stop my feeling there was something missing.

Then came the Aha! moment this morning. Look at how Jesus affirms the presence of God among them:

Blind can't see ... and now they do.

Deaf can't hear ... and now they do.

Lepers are unclean ... and now they're cleansed.

Lame can't walk ... and now they do.

The dead are no longer alive ... and now they are.

The poor ... have the Gospel preached to them.

Jesus lists poverty alongside blindness, deafness, leprosy, lameness and death; and while He lists sight, hearing, cleansing, walking and life as the opposites of those first five, He states that hearing the Gospel is the opposite of being poor.

And note that He doesn't say "poor in spirit," as He says in Matthew 5:3 -- and which some say is a qualifier for His concept of poor. As I read that, He's talking about poor in spirit and poor in worldly resources.

Without the Gospel, where is the hope people need to move forward? Without that intangible "something" to strive for, how can people press towards the greatness that God has for them, when the world is writing them off as incurable? As we preach the Gospel to the poor, help them to know Jesus intimately and to trust in God with all they have, we help them to seek God and His Kingdom; as we do that, all the physical needs they have will be met. That's a solid promise from the Lord (Matt. 7:7-11) with no ifs, ands or buts.

More to the point, withholding the Gospel judges the poor by saying they're not worthy of a better life -- and who would want to be accused of that? "The destruction of the poor is their poverty" (Prov. 10:15).

And that's what's missing. That may explain why, five years after "Share the Gold" and "Riot 2010"; four years after the Occupy movement attempted to overthrow the world order, we still have abject poverty less than three miles away from multi-million-dollar homes and the world's wealth is still pretty much in the hands of a handful of people. In both instances, preaching the Gospel was not part of the equation. 

As human beings, we're wired to want to fix things that don't seem right to us. But as followers of Christ, we have to re-wire ourselves so that the first priority is to preach the Gospel and minister Hope; and trust God to be good to His Word and provide all the things that are needed.

When people know ...

In the six years that we've been working on The Lord's Rain, there's a phenomenon I've seen repeatedly: when people know about it, they want to support it. People want to help out with the situation on the Downtown East Side, but in tight economic times, they want to make sure their money has an impact. When they see a facility dedicated to helping the urban poor and that is demonstrably helping to bring change to people's lives, they want to get on board.

In 2013, we nearly had to close The Lord's Rain due to lack of funding, but all it took was a little bit of media exposure, and people rallied round. Less than a week after stories broke in Metro and on CityTV, we had enough to keep going for over another year. Other items on Radio-Canada and in The Province helped a lot, too.

Now, a new financial blessing will provide another opportunity for people to contribute, knowing that their dollars will be doubled. The R. Howard Webster Foundation is providing a grant of $10,000.00, and is offering to match funds raised between now and March 31, 2014, up to an additional $10,000.00. In other words, this could generate as much as $30,000.00 -- enough to keep The Lord's Rain alive until almost the end of 2015. 

What I really like about this, is that it helps us meet short-term financial needs (the arrangement takes effect in June, when another grant is due to run out) while maintaining what I believe has been the key to the success of The Lord's Rain: "collaborative caring". The Lord's Rain has been built and sustained by many people and organizations, bringing what they can, as they can, motivated by a desire to provide hope to people in an area where hope is the most precious commodity.

I intend to start visiting churches and other organizations with the presentation I gave at Westpointe last summer, and if you are led to make a donation, you can do so online at www.gospelmission.net or by mail. Donations specifically marked for "The Lord's Rain" will go towards the fund-matching program. Please make your cheque or money order payable to Gospel Mission Society, and we have a new mailing address:

Gospel Mission Society,

PO Box 98802

The W PO*

Vancouver, BC V6B 0G0

The name of the game is instilling hope in people: Hope in Christ -- the recognition that their situations are not as good as it gets. Without Hope, why would anyone try to get off drugs, seek treatment for their issues, move forward in their lives? The Downtown East Side is too full of hope-destroying things -- reminders of the past, temptations of the present and deniers of the future -- and people need something else to grasp onto. The Lord's Rain helps people find that "something else".

---

*Yes, that's "The W PO". Sounds like a plumbing fixture, but it's a post office (PO) located in a complex called "The W", which was built out of the ruins of the Woodward's Department Store, a block away from the Mission. Part of the complex is the iconic neon "W", perched on an Eiffel Tower-like structure on the roof. Hence, "The W", rather than "The Woodwards Complex". It's likely that, as Vancouverites get more familiar and less talkative, it will become known as "The Dub" ... and eventually, simply "The".

Farewell to a friend

2014 starts off with some sad news.

I've mentioned before that one of the ignition points for The Lord's Rain was the day -- two days before the deadline to have funding lined up to take over the ground floor space in our building -- that two phone calls came in. The day before, we had all of $60 set aside for the project to build showers. It was the fall of 2007 and the idea was still incubating. Barry and I had put out a "fleece", à la Gideon -- asking God for a confirming sign -- that, so long as the money was there, we had a "go" project.

And we were prepared to walk away from the idea if the money hadn't come in by mid-December.

Two days before the deadline, there were two phone calls, with pledges totaling $4,000.00. 

One of those calls came from Don Low. Barry and I looked Heavenward and said, "Right then -- we'll take that as a 'yes'."

I didn't know Don and his wife, Joyce, very well. They had been members of Westpointe when I first started going there in 2006, but they were distinctive: certainly the oldest couple there -- Don was in his late 80s at the time -- and they always wore "Sunday best" to church. Don was also distinctive for his puckish sense of humor: he told Amelia and me one time about singing in a Gospel quartet with three Baptist mates in the Royal Canadian Air Force during WW2. They never missed a chance to take the mickey out of him for being Pentecostal, and he, apparently, gave as good as he got. That sense of humor stood him in good stead through these doctrinal differences, since that group still got together to sing long after the war.

Don passed away just before New Year's at the age of 90 or 91. He was a true gentleman, and he and Joyce continued to support The Lord's Rain over the years, with prayer, quiet encouragement and timely contributions. I'm sure Don's legacy takes many forms in many different areas, but The Lord's Rain is part of it, and will stand the Downtown East Side has benefited -- and will continue to do so -- from his and Joyce's kindness, generosity and prayers.

"Thank you," somehow, doesn't begin to say it.