Feeding the hungry

It's long been the case that the church is one place people turn when they are in need--not just spiritual need, but real physical need. And not just church members, but people off the street who you are likely never to see again. As assistant rector, I have a small discretionary fund at my disposal that I can use to help people when they come asking. Small is the operative word, though, so I have to be careful how I use it.

I don't mind giving money to people. I used to give change out of my pockets to people on the street in the city, even though many people told me that I shouldn't--that I was likely just feeding someone's addiction or enabling someone to avoid taking responsibility for herself. At work we have some informal rules we tend to follow (although we don't have to , I suppose). I don't as a rule give cash to anyone--I give them food cards for the most part but I've also written checks to help pay utility bills and the like. And we tend to try not to give to the same people more than once a month.

All this sounds so simple and straight forward. But really, it often feels so much more complicated. Because there is always this feeling of unease, this hermeneutic of distrust operating. Is this person's need real? Are they taking responsibility for themselves? Are they just out to get what they can from whoever will give it?

I tend to err on the generous side. It's hard for me to say no to people (although I have done it). The office staff chides me, and tries to warn me when someone comes asking. "X was just here a few weeks ago." "A reeks of cigarette smoke---you shouldn't give her money for food, she'll just buy cigarettes." Even when they don't say anything, I can tell that they are evaluating --yes, even judging--the person asking for help. And to be honest, sometimes I wonder, too, although I try not to, try not make judgments.

Today was one of those days when I had to wonder if I should be tougher. Three different people came by (I usually only see a couple a month, but I'm sure now, right after the holidays, is a hard time for a lot of people). The first guy who stopped in looked familiar to me, so I said, "Have we helped you before?" "Oh, no," he said. I gave him a food card, but when I went to record his info I saw that he HAD been in before. More than once. So couldn't he have said so? About thirty minutes later a young woman came in. She looked familiar too, but her name wasn't. So I gave her a food card, too. After she left, I realized that a woman with a similar name had been in the same day in December as the man who'd been in earlier today. Coincidence? And what about the woman who came in a few minutes later? The one I didn't even talk to because I didn't have enough left to help anyone else today--what about her?

So has the word gotten out that I'm 'easy'? These people had plausible stories--late food stamps, waiting for disability payments to kick in. Are these people taking advantage? What does that even mean? I can't imagine that it could be pleasant having to go around asking for help. I know what it feels like to not have enough money in the bank to make ends meet. I get it. Who am I to judge them? Even if they are working the system, maybe they are just trying to get by the only way they can for now. And what I can give them won't go that far.

I worry, too, about our implicit "pull yourselves up by your bootstraps" mentality. The truth is people can work really really hard and still be down on their luck, still need a hand. And I worry about our implicit, perhaps unconscious judgments based on how people look or sound.

I guess for now I will just keep on doing what I'm doing. I'll try not to judge. I'll help who I can til my money runs out. It seems like all I can do. It feels like what I have to do.