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I serve a small church with a large ministry. We serve community meals four times a week, and we run an onsite food pantry that’s open twice a week and a mobile food pantry that’s open once a week. We do a lot of pulling people out of the river, or at least giving them an innertube. It’s important work. I joke with colleagues that if my congregation had to choose between paying me for “religious” stuff or paying our food supervisor for food stuff they would choose food. And I wouldn’t blame them. Jesus cared a lot about feeding people.
Of course, the feeding stuff is religious stuff. At least, it’s faithful stuff.
A couple of years ago a young man came into the church office/sacristy/closet for a conversation. Brent was a young man in my community who had known his share of trouble. Some of it personal, some of it legal, all of it complicated. As we talked, he confessed that he hadn’t maintained his sobriety. Life had knocked the socks off him, and he was having a hard time finding the point, not just of sobriety but of his life. Before everything hit the fan, he had a purpose. Without a sense of meaning to ground him, he lacked the motivation to find his way back to solid ground.
Moses’ story of salvation is epic. Midwives lie to save boy babies in general and Moses in particular. Moses’ mother hides him and then sets him afloat, and Pharoah’s daughter pulls him out of the Nile. Miriam connects Moses back to his mother for nursing. But it isn’t enough to just save Moses’ life—he is saved for a purpose.
Many people have suggested we spin off the food ministry into its own nonprofit. It would certainly make fundraising and grantwriting a little more straightforward, and filling out judicatory forms would be easier. I would know how to answer the question, “How many members do you have?” But Brent reminded me of another aspect of our work that makes it truly holy: Our job is to care for souls as well as bodies.
One of our core principals is to offer people choice as often as possible. Choice brings dignity. Studies have shown that offering choice also changes the brain of the “giver” to include “theory of mind”: the ability to understand that the other person also has beliefs, experiences, emotions, desires, and—as with Brent—a purpose and life calling.
Eating lunch at our community meal is often as important as leading worship. We often chat about the weather and local news. But sometimes the banter veers into holy conversations.
