Apostle Raphael Adebayo
I was not always a Christian. Until July 7, 1998, I was a devout Muslim deeply rooted in both Yoruba traditional beliefs and Islamic practices. I served as a member of the Jihad Committee of the Muslim Students Society at Obafemi Awolowo University between 1983 and 1988. My faith was strong—or so I thought—until a defining event shook the very foundation of what I believed.
A Crisis of Faith
The tragic death of Alhaji Chief M.K.O. Abiola hit me like a thunderbolt. I received the news in my apartment in Arlington, Texas, and it broke something inside me. Abiola was not just a political figure; he was my role model, someone I aspired to emulate. His death, especially the circumstances surrounding it, left me disillusioned. I couldn’t understand why fellow Muslims and supposed allies failed to stand by him in his darkest hour.
I began to question the solidarity, compassion, and spiritual depth I believed Islam embodied. I thought to myself: “If this is what faith looks like, then where is the love of God?”
I vowed never to pray as a Muslim again unless I found clarity. That decision marked the beginning of my spiritual journey toward Christ.
A New Beginning
On December 2, 1998, while returning to Nigeria after three years in the United States, I was introduced to Jesus Christ. It wasn’t dramatic or flashy—but it was real. I decided to give this “Jesus” a chance for six months—to see if He truly carried the love and power attributed to Him.
It’s now 27 years later, and I’m still walking with Him—stronger, fuller, and more fulfilled than ever before.
A Church Born Out of Compassion
After my conversion, my wife—then my fiancée—introduced me to The Redeemed Christian Church of God, which I joined in February 1999. From that moment, I dedicated my heart and resources to seeking God. I devoured the Word of God and quickly became one of the most committed workers in the church. I was made Head of the Men’s Fellowship and later, Head of the Prayer Department.
But God had a greater assignment for me.
During my early years in America, I was shocked to witness the depth of poverty and homelessness. It was no different from the scenes I had seen in Agege and Oshodi in Lagos. I couldn’t reconcile the wealth of America with the suffering on its streets—homeless men and women of all races, young ladies prostituting themselves to survive, and neighborhoods filled with pain and hopelessness. “Surely,” I thought, “this too is the work of the devil.”
And the Word confirmed it: “For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that He might destroy the works of the devil.” — 1 John 3:8
I knew then that I was called to join in that same mission—especially to confront homelessness and poverty.
A Christmas Like No Other
On December 25, 2003—my 41st birthday—I stepped out in faith. Along with my wife, our infant daughter, Pastor Obed Dimkpa and his family, and a few friends, we held a Christmas service on a Dallas street corner—specifically, Martin Luther King Jr Blvd and Malcolm X Blvd.
That day, 18 people gave their lives to Christ. My heart was moved. My wife embraced the vision, and we began providing hot fried chicken meals alongside our ministry work.
Favor and Fruitfulness
In February 2004, God opened a miraculous door: the Martin Luther King Jr. Recreation Center offered us a space for community outreach every Tuesday from 5 PM to 7 PM. Just four weeks in, a Nigerian-owned chicken franchise began donating food to us completely free of charge—and has faithfully done so for over 21 years.
The outreach grew rapidly. My wife, who wasn’t interested in planting traditional church parishes, gave me her full support when I told her I wanted to start a church specifically for the homeless and marginalized. But we couldn’t find a suitable space.
Then, a visiting minister, Mrs. Cynthia Chase, gave a radical suggestion: “Why not ask a funeral home? They’re empty on Sundays.”
Strange as it sounded, we obeyed. And so, on May 30, 2004, we held our first Sunday service at Eternal Rest Funeral Home in Dallas.
Just two months later, on August 1, 2004, we moved to a rented space at 1705 Martin Luther King Jr Blvd—which, by God’s grace, became our permanent church building in 2014.
From Ghetto to Glory
The ministry has not only transformed individual lives—it has transformed the entire community. Once considered one of the roughest neighborhoods in Dallas, our area is now slowly becoming an extension of Downtown Dallas. We have seen addicts delivered, homeless men restored to dignity, and broken lives made whole by the power of Jesus Christ.
A Call to the Privileged
My journey—from disillusionment to divine calling, from streetside worship to a thriving ministry—has been one of obedience, grace, and divine provision. I’ve chronicled it in my new book:
Moses, David, Jesus: Pastors to the Poor, Homeless, and the Needy
In it, I share how God sent Moses to deliver the Israelites, raised David to uplift the discontented, and sent Jesus to set the captives free. Likewise, I believe He has called me—and perhaps you—to serve the least among us.
This book is not just a story. It is a call to action. If you’re in a position of privilege, I urge you: look beyond comfort. Ask God how you can be His hands and feet to those society has forgotten.
My ministry was born not in a cathedral, but on a street corner. It grew not through a pulpit, but through fried chicken and open arms. And it continues to thrive because God never forgets the hopeless—and neither should we.
If this testimony inspires you, I invite you to pray, partner, or participate in reaching those who need love the most. Because in every act of service to the least of these, we serve Christ Himself.
