A Visit to the EAU

The Emergency Assistance Unit, or EAU, is an agency of New York City's Department of Homeless Services. More honestly, it is a travesty of supposed "human" "services" (those who seeking help are not treated as humans; one can barely call what goes on there service). All families with underage children must go there first before being assigned shelter in the city of New York. Because of the immense backlog, most families have to spend a whole day there, be taken on a bus in the late evening to a temporary shelter to barely avoid breaking the city's vagrancy law, then get on buses at 5AM the next day to repeat the process, sometimes up to two weeks. Most of the time, children are not able to attend school while their families are being "processed." Also during this cycle, adults aren't able to continue their jobs or find new ones, because they cannot risk losing a place in line. From the reports of people who've survived the EAU, the "service environment" is one of seeking any reason to disqualify a person from shelter.

A few weeks ago, several members of Intro to Preaching and Worship (CW102) went to see the EAU. This in itself was an act of small justice, because there is a strong initiative to keep the EAU out of sight from anyone but those who must spend days and weeks there. Within a few minutes of our arriving on the sidewalk - a public space! - the site superintendent, with a police officer, asked us what we were doing. I am not sure which word it was - "students," "Union," "seminary" - but one of them made it ok. His demeanor and action changed immediately. He said, "I'm very busy" no less than five times in the process of returning to his work. He also gave his time twice. I'm sure that's the spirit of self-promoting, obsequious, just-plain-greasy "courtesy" in which he and all his subordinates perform their work.

Following is a reflection I wrote for CW102 on the experience.

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Invisibility: this is the first injustice to combat when addressing the evil that is the EAU. Evil is a strong word, but the EAU is evil. Obviously, the people who staff the EAU are not themselves evil, but the political and “human service” (it’s a farce even to say the phrase) systems that create and sustain the EAU – no less than the economic macro-systems that necessitate it – are evil. The EAU is designed to isolate human beings from any opportunity to help themselves, to rebuild lives productively, or to access real sources of help. The EAU is also designed to strip away the most basic dignities of anyone who must go through it: no permanent (or even stable temporary) home, an environment of mistrust, no control of any part of one’s life, no decent facilities for even the most basic needs (food, shelter, hygiene). Finally, the EAU is designed to perpetuate those who are in this dire poverty, in that it obstructs (if not obliterates) the means by which children could break out of poverty (education, nutrition, healthy socialization, self-esteem….). Under whatever name and whatever supposed legitimate help is claimed, this is an evil system.

What is worst, however, is the intent to keep all these things secret, outside the view of anyone whose conscience might be (should be) struck by the horrible perpetuation of poverty and dehumanization of real people. As we stood there on the sidewalk, I wondered whether there’s any worship inside churches that really matters. Maybe all Christian worship should take place in places where oppression is actively happening, with and in solidarity with those who are suffering? Put a little differently, what would it mean to offer a worship service on the sidewalk, outside of the EAU? What kind of liturgy would matter there? One of the things people mentioned is that there’s no real way to get good food – inside the food is unhealthy, and to go outside for food means risking losing one’s place in line. So worship on the sidewalk might mean a real meal, with good and healthy food. Worship might also include lots of time for people to offer their laments for the injustices they suffer, and to tell their stories and honor each other’s. Worship, that is, worship-as-justice, might also mean teaching for the children, for the education they are missing out on. And worship on the sidewalk might mean reclaiming that space, making it holy for those who must walk it every day, and transforming it into a place of nourishment for the continuing battle, instead of the last place where people can keep some sense of dignity before entering the EAU.

The visit to the EAU, more than anything else, makes me from now on always ask whether our worship inside church buildings makes us complicit with the invisibility structure that sustains poverty. There are ways in which having and worshipping in church buildings can be holy and justice-delivering. But when they are not, then we need to go worship somewhere else – the sidewalk seems like a good place to start.