Those We Meet Along the Way

Eric Churney.

I think it's safe to say that you have never heard of this man before.

I ran into Eric a few months back on our block. As I've gotten to know him, I have learned that he grew up in the Bay Area (I think he's around my age, born sometime in the late 70's/early 80's), is a huge fan of classic metal music from our generation such as Megadeth and Mettalica, and also loves 90's hip hop, the same music that was the soundtrack of my teens and early twenties.

Eric is a big fan of San Francisco sports teams, particularly the Giants and the 49ers, and was pretty bummed to hear that this is the last year of Candlestick Park's existence (soon to be torn down and replaced with homes and retail space). He has many fond memories of watching games of both teams on TV and occasionally going to the park himself to take in the full experience.

He is a very polite guy. Eric always asks how I'm doing and seems genuinely interested in what's going on in my life when I update him. Religiously, he would probably classify himself as an agnostic, and in a few of the conversations we have had about Jesus over a Taco Bell lunch, he seems pretty open to the gospel and interested in the things I have to say about it. Maybe it's just his respectful demeanor coming out again, or maybe he truly is interested in this grand narrative of God's loving work in the world; it's hard to tell.

For work, Eric collects bottles and cans all throughout the neighborhood as he rolls his shopping cart up and down the avenues. He usually waits till his cart is full, which happens maybe twice a week, and then he treks over to the Safeway in Outer Sunset to deposit his cartload and get cash in return. Liz and I have connected with him often in this way, keeping a stash of bottles and cans in our place until we see him rolling down the street again. 

As you have probably figured out by now, Eric Churney is homeless. Well, more accurately, he is one of about 200 people who call Golden Gate Park "home", using its dense vegetation to find shelter, peace, and rest during the cool San Francisco nights. He has overgrown facial hair, wears the same dirty jacket and pants everyday, lives off of Taco Bell/KFC and whatever else he receives from others, drinks a lot of soda, possibly does drugs, and swigs an occasional 40oz of malt liquor.

It's this last description of Eric that, unfortunately, becomes all that people know about a guy like him. Disheveled, unsafe, an eyesore, pitiable, lost - all true, yet only the present state of a man who most likely grew up with memories, aspirations, and a culture similar to ours, yet probably tainted by mental problems, abuse, abandonment, loss, and pain in deeper ways than many of us will ever understand. All various forms of what we call sin, either self-inflicted or received, the result of a world where humanity has said "yes" to self, and "no" to the Creator.

But this can't be all that Eric is. He assuredly didn't start that way; no child ever does. Eric was once a newborn baby, a gumming gazer, a teetering toddler. He learned to walk and talk like each of us did, but the circumstances he was brought into did not bode well for a healthy upbringing like many of us were blessed to receive. The bottom line is that Eric still bears the image of God upon his very life. He has intrinsic worth; he is not simply a smelly homeless man who couldn't get a job and lacked the grit to become successful - it must be more complex than that. 

Our encounter with Eric, and many others like him, have continually caused me to think about what my role is as a child of God's kingdom living in a city like San Francisco. Homelessness has always been a bane of frustration and confusion to me, but the more I engage these downtrodden folks, the more I realize that my ministry to them is not compartmentalized to telling them the gospel, giving them food, getting them a job, and getting them psychiatric help, as if doing all of these things creates the perfect remedy to get them off the street for good. All of these things may help them, and certainly the gospel has everything to offer, but often they are too strung out with violent tendencies or downright unconscionable and unable to handle life as we know it. But the one thing I am learning that I can always offer them beyond anything else is this: Their dignity as a fellow human-being, made in God's image. I can know where they are from, how they got where they are, and find out their name, whether they are being truthful or not.

Eric Churney.

Five minutes ago you had no idea who he was. But now you do. And now he is known as a person, and not only an undignified vagabond wandering the streets of San Francisco. Pray for him.