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By Maurice McElrea
I GREW UP on a farm in Northern Ireland, the second of
four children.
When I was nine years of age, I lost my father to
cancer. A prayerful mother was left with four children under the age
of 11. While I was exposed to the gospel at an early age, I did not
commit my life to the Lord.
I was placed in a strict British secondary boarding
school and later I worked in Birmingham, England. There, I read a paper
advertisement inviting people to work in Canada.
Streets of gold
So I left for Canada, believing there would be gold in
the streets. However, upon arriving in Edmonton, I found that it was me on the streets, not the
rumoured gold.
That first afternoon in Canada, I exited the taxi with
my suitcases in hand – as a gentleman asked me for a dime for a
bottle of “rubby.” At that time, I didn’t know rubby was
rubbing alcohol – or even what a dime was.
In reflection, this meeting was a presage of things to
come – as I would soon run out of dimes, and would later find my life
devoted to supporting those caught in the downward spiral of poverty and
addiction.
I got a free ride from Edmonton to Vancouver by signing
up as a temporary labourer with CN Railway. My job was to help water the
livestock on the train, if needed.
In later communication with my mother, I told her my
first travelling companions were hundreds of cattle and hogs. She
humorously observed that I was like the prodigal son in a hurry, going
straight to the hogs.
In Vancouver, I found an affordable room in Chinatown,
near Pender and Columbia. Though it seemed a world away from my early life
in Ireland, as unfamiliar music pulsated through the building along with
the rattle of mahjong games, I felt safe and welcome in Chinatown.
Union Gospel
One evening I told my Cree friend I was going to Union
Gospel Mission for a bowl of soup. He said he would not lower himself to go
to a mission for help, but planned on making some “quick money”
that night.
I warned him he could end up wearing prison garb, and
getting a “striped suntan.” Sadly, he later served three years
for criminal behaviour – including assaulting a police officer.
After visiting the mission, that same friend and I
decided to go fight fires in Kamloops, and hopped a freight train. Careful
planning notwithstanding, we did not properly discern the junction
separating CNR and PGE lines, and found ourselves in Quesnel instead of
Kamloops.
This mistake was a picture of my journey away from God:
always on the wrong track, going the wrong direction. Scripture says:
“the way of the transgressor is hard.”
Later, in Vancouver, I accessed Union Gospel Mission
for soup served by Superintendent Leonard Klassen.
‘Amen’ to soup
At the chapel service, I usually kept one eye on the
clock, the other on the soup door, interested only in one word from the
preacher: “Amen.”
One day, answering a knock at my Chinatown door,
I suspected the visitor
was a plainclothes policeman raiding the facility. It was, instead, a man
who had heard about my circumstances, and arrived to invite me home to meet
his family and enjoy a home-cooked meal.
Later, we attended an evangelistic service –
where I again heard the gospel. I learned later that some people were
nervous when I walked into the church wearing a torn leather jacket and a
knife in my belt – indicators of the rough life I had been living.
I attended these services for a few weeks. There, I
learned the importance of a relationship with God – but I wrestled
with the choices and challenges the preacher presented.
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He challenged me to take a piece of paper, draw a line
down the middle, and on the left side list everything gained by coming to
Christ, and on the right side everything sacrificed – much like a
balance sheet outlining assets and liabilities.
I realized how great the blessings God would bring to
the surrendered life, and how pathetic the list of things lost on the
liability side. And so, in November 1960 I found peace with God –
through repentance, and faith in Christ and his finished work at Calvary.
Saved or safe?
That day I wanted to send a telegram to my mother, but
had only enough money for three words. I carefully chose words my mother
would understand: “Maurice is saved.”
The puzzled operator asked, “Is that Maurice is
‘safe’ or Maurice is ‘saved?’” I assured her
that if she placed her trust in Christ, she would be both safe and saved
– and asked her to use the term “saved.”
She got the message, and so did my mother. She
nearly collapsed as she read it – and was thankful one of her
children, figuratively the black sheep, had come home.
Soon, God opened additional doors in my life, as I
worked in the paper and lumber industry.
Often, friends and I would find homeless people,
inviting them to services and meals. We even looked, unsuccessfully, for a
building to start a mission.
At a youth activity one night, I met Lois – who,
on our first of three dates, accompanied me to share the gospel with some
folks then labeled ‘hippies,’ on Fourth Avenue.
We were married some time later, and God blessed us
with a son, David. He continued to work in my life, knocking off rough
edges and preparing me for what lay ahead.
In 1980, I assumed the role of Union Gospel
Mission’s superintendent, succeeding Mr. Klassen – who
served me that first bowl of soup. Lois provided home daycare for five
children, as well as our own son, to help meet expenses.
Ravens vs. seagulls
And God has always been faithful. One day at the
mission, when we ran out of food, I walked into the alley, asking God to
supply. I remembered how he had used the ravens to feed Elijah
– but looking up, I saw only seagulls.
Suddenly, I noticed a bread truck driver I had worked
with in the paper industry. He told me he was not doing well. Some
restaurants had refused the large number of loaves he was transporting. I
quickly assured him I could solve his problem. That afternoon, every guest
dined on bread and jam. Our Lord does provide daily for all the
needs of the mission.
My prayer now is for God to receive the glory and
praise for all that has happened at Union Gospel Mission – and will
happen in future. I thank him for providing a lovingly supportive wife, son
David, daughter-in-law Kjersti, two grandchildren Aidan (9) and Emma (7).
I also thank him for the supportive staff, board of directors, volunteers
and donors – all who have been part of this challenging adventure of
reaching out to the hungry, hurting and homeless.
After 29 years as president of Union Gospel Mission,
Maurice McElrea has announced his retirement. He will continue as president
emeritus until 2009.
July 2008
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