Farley Magee was the musical leader for years at the Sunday services of Inner City Pastoral Ministry (ICPM), the ecumenical group that serves the beautiful and broken people who populate downtown Edmonton.

Farley died Oct. 11, and his memorial service 17 days later packed the basement of Sacred Heart Church of the First Peoples, the church visited by Pope Francis last year on his journey of reconciliation. Farley was a gentle, beloved soul whose difficult life can bring some understanding of those without homes.

Farley, the son of a United Church minister, was married and with his wife had four children. He was a good father and husband until his daughter Heather died at age seven. Heather’s death devastated Farley and sent him into a long depression. He could no longer hold a job or care for his family. His marriage ended in divorce, and he eventually found himself homeless.

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A long-time friend of Farley told me that one Christmas a roughly dressed Farley came to their home for dinner. Farley ate a hearty meal and asked if he could have a place to sleep. He slept 18 hours before rising, having breakfast and going on his way.

Farley lived like this for years until, through the help provided by several inner-city agencies, he got his life together. He lived his last years in a seniors’ residence where he enjoyed a normal existence. He had been a guitarist all his life and now blossomed as he wrote songs and provided music at ICPM services. 

That’s where I met Farley a year ago when I became an ICPM board member. Our conversations and the reflections offered at his memorial service helped me piece together a picture of Farley as an especially sensitive man. He took world events and the injustices of inner city life as something personal, not as events happening far away. He seemed less angered than confused about why people treat each other in such awful ways.

“Farley was a big part of this neighbourhood,” long-time activist Jim Gurnett told the memorial service. He could be seen regularly walking down the streets with his guitar on his back and a collapsible sack slung over his shoulder.

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Farley was always ready to discuss theology and Scripture, but again he never held these subjects at a distance. He would at once challenge and question God while at the same time maintaining his trust in God’s love, Gurnett said: “It burned within him.”

It was his music that people most remember. Farley’s son Paul said his earliest memory of his dad was of him playing the guitar. Rev. Rick Chapman, former pastor at ICPM, recalled Farley’s contribution to the Sunday morning services. “He totally enhanced the whole experience with his music.”

To gain more direct insight into Farley, you might watch him play his song “Love Waits” on Youtube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop?v=velLcWCCflc)

Farley’s path through life challenges the stereotype many hold that the homeless are a shiftless bunch of troublemakers who should pull up their socks and live reputable lives. Most people on the streets are there not through any choice. If they had a choice, they would spend their nights anywhere other than shivering under a blanket while huddled up against a downtown building. Veterans of war suffering from PTSD are among the most common denizens of the street. 

The day after Farley’s death, I noticed a group or 20 or 30 people demonstrating with placards near a shopping centre in my neighbourhood. I learned later that they were protesting a nearby supportive housing project. When you’re homeless, you’re damned no matter which way you turn. If you set up shelter on the street, the police come along and bulldoze your home and haul your belongings away in a truck. But when some group provides you with housing to help you live with dignity, then the neighbours protest.

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Likely, the neighbours and the formerly homeless people have never had the opportunity to meet, talk about their lives and iron out their grievances. Someone instead launches a Facebook page where allegations get posted and soon are exaggerated. Why can’t we give peace a chance?

Farley called himself an analog man. He was flummoxed by cellphones and computers. All he did was sing songs, tell stories and proclaim the love of God. He would also take time to converse with whoever wanted to talk with him. Too bad we don’t all follow the example of those who lent a hand to this formerly homeless man.