Article from the Buffalo News 11-27-09
Homeless for the holiday
In 11th year of stints on the street, pastor reflects on survival
By Gene Warner
Updated: November 26, 2009, 10:50 PM
The Rev. Eric Johns isn't kidding himself.
Sure, he's now in his 11th straight year of spending Thanksgiving week on the streets of downtown Buffalo, sleeping under a highway overpass or in shelters, eating in soup kitchens and living with the homeless.
He can raise awareness about the homeless and help raise money for his Boxes of Love campaign to provide food and toys to 3,000 needy families this Christmas.
But Johns knows one thing he can't do: He can't truly learn what it is to be homeless.
"There are things I can't relate to about being homeless," he said earlier this week, following a night sleeping under the Kensington Expressway overpass on Michigan Avenue.
"I know when I'm going home, Saturday night," he added. "Somebody living on the streets doesn't know when they're going to have a place to live. I know when I'm going home, so I don't have to deal with that mentality.
"I don't know how they survive from day to day."
And that's what separates Johns from the homeless, no matter how many nights he spends in their shoes - and their sleeping nooks.
"I have visions, plans, goals for my life," he said. "Many people we meet on the street don't have that. They're just trying to survive from day to day."
"From hour to hour," chimed in Keith Cauley, a former street person and a member of Johns' church, the Buffalo Dream Center.
On Monday morning, Johns headed to the streets, along with the Rev. Patrick Fleming, pastor of the Amherst Church of the Nazarene, who's working hard to forge a connection between his congregation and the city. They also are drumming up awareness of the Boxes of Love campaign. (Anyone interested in donating food, toys or money may call 854-1001 or go to www.buffalodreamcenter.org.)
Two days later, Johns, Fleming and Cauley sat in a Delaware Avenue coffee shop to discuss what they had seen and experienced.
They were struck by their meeting Monday night with a man named David.
Nine months ago, David, 29, walked into the City Mission, where Johns was teaching a Bible-based class. He told the pastor that he had been clean and off drugs for three days, and that was the longest time he had been off drugs for years.
"He said he felt good, but he was afraid," Johns remembered. "I went home, and I cried. Almost every day for nine months, I've been praying for him and counseling him."
David now has been clean for nine months. He's got a job installing drywall. And he's engaged to be married.
Johns and Fleming have had a lot of time on their hands this week, to reflect on people like David and on some street people who haven't escaped from their cycles of despair.
"This morning, I was looking at the difference between humiliation and being humbled," Fleming said. "Those whom we meet on the street, who blame the system, are humiliated. David has gotten humble. You have to admit your part in it, your responsibility. That's where the healing comes through."
That's what gives these pastors hope, that there are people like David.
"He realized he couldn't do it on his own, and he needed help," Johns said. "I'm personally invested in his life. To talk with someone who you feel like you've made a difference in their life is really rewarding."
Johns, the pastor of an urban congregation, knows all about the human pain of these tough economic times. He sees the effects of unemployment rates hovering around 10 percent, of stimulus money that never quite gets here, of social agencies trying to do more with less.
He sees them in human terms. David's story reflects one of the lessons Johns has learned.
"We hear about all the needs out there and all the challenges out there," he said. "David reminds me it's not about the statistics, about the number of families we help, it's about the individuals we can help.
"It shows me the power of making a personal investment in another individual."
Johns remains humble. He doesn't mind telling a story, from four or five years ago, during the Boxes of Love food distribution. One woman approached him for help, only to be told that all the food had been distributed.
"Thanks a lot, [jerk]," she said, in slightly more graphic terms.
"I can't meet every need," Johns said. "I have to be motivated by the ones I can help."
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