If my faith were a Monopoly game, the church food pantry would be the space marked “free parking.” If you need food, you can go and get free food from the church, because it is the church. Simple, easy, free and occasionally massively important.
My family is not, by the mercy of God, in need of the food pantry to feed our family, but I am so glad it exists — for the sake of the people it serves, and for my own sake, every time I can donate.
I keep my involvement simple: When I do my weekly shopping, I pick up a few duplicate items of shelf-stable food — the same foods, and the same brands, that I want for my own family, because if I can afford a few extra cents to get the good kind for myself, then I can afford it for someone who doesn’t get many choices in life.
If I have one of my kids with me, I let them pick something out, so they feel more involved. Then, when we go to Mass the next day, I drop the goods off in one of the collection boxes — or, ideally, I ask one of the kids to drop it off, so they continue having a hands-on familiarity with this basic work of charity.
And that’s it. Simple, important, undemanding and effective. Free parking for Catholics.
But why would someone need a concept like “free parking” in the Church, especially if they aren’t poor and in need of its services? Because God may be simple, but our relationship with his Church can get complicated. So many aspects of our faith can become painful or confusing or fraught, and it may get harder and harder to find any point of connection with God, any spot where we can just keep things simple, and just be.
Keep it simple
Maybe we’ve had a bad experience with someone in the parish, and, because we are human, we have a hard time untangling that relationship from our relationship with God. Sometimes it’s our fault and sometimes it’s not, but it’s fairly common to struggle with some unpleasant associations with the very place that is supposed to be our spiritual home, with the very people who are supposed to make up our spiritual family.
But donating to the food pantry is free parking! When we give, we don’t have to deal with anybody, and we don’t have to use any kind of social finesse. Absolutely anybody can plunk a case of mac and cheese into the collection box and then just walk away; and it will always be a necessary and salutary thing to do.
Maybe we’re frustrated or discouraged or mistrustful about finances in our diocese. We take our obligation to contribute to the church seriously, but we also have serious doubts that money is being used well. FOOD PANTRY, FREE PARKING. That little bag of coffee, granola bars and tuna stays right in the neighborhood and feeds someone who wants and needs it. Feeding the hungry will always be one of the least problematic transactions possible.
Maybe we’re having a hard time praying. Maybe our spiritual life is incoherent or angry or just kind of flat right now, and we can’t seem to snap out of it. Maybe we’re not in a state of grace and aren’t yet ready to do what it takes to get back. Where to go?
Food pantry! Free parking! Making a little, easy decision to give to the food pantry each week is a really good way of keeping that connection to God open when we’re not necessarily feeling it otherwise.
Good works are not a substitute for prayer. There was a whole Reformation about that. But voluntarily spending even a little bit of time, effort and, yes, money is an experience that tends to make its way into our psyches, and if we keep it up, we may find that this humble and practical work of mercy is doing its other work and softening our hearts. Works of mercy have semi-permeable membranes, and the corporal and the spiritual are not as different from each other as it might seem.
Maybe we’re not even sure what we believe any more. Parts of the creed just feel weird, and we’re starting to wonder if this whole thing makes as much sense as it seemed to when we were younger.
Food. Pantry. Free. Parking. Whatever else we believe, no one can argue with the idea of giving food to hungry people.
Or can they?
‘Go to the poor’
Maybe we’re uncomfortable with the idea of feeding people who aren’t, surely, literally starving. This is America; surely they could find some way to support themselves, with the economy rebounding and the job market recovering. Maybe a little bit of discomfort in the tummy area will provide exactly the pressure that’s needed to motivate them to work a little harder and earn their own food, not to mention their self-respect. …
GO DIRECTLY TO JAIL.
If this is the space we find ourselves in, then the problem really is with us. We really are looking at the hungry face of Jesus himself and saying, “Nah.” In which case we need to stop listening to edgy podcasts and start making a list of all the people who have helped us instead of ignored us, all the ways we’ve been lucky instead of unlucky, all the things that have worked out for us that could just as easily have not worked out, and how even our very next breath is not guaranteed to us, but is a pure gift from God. Next, we should go buy something that would delight us to find on our own shelves, and put it in the collection box. Put in two.
Jesus said “Feed my sheep” (Jn 21:17) and he meant to nourish them with truth, but also with actual food. After he rose from the dead, he took the trouble to cook a hot breakfast for his friends. He was foreshadowed by the Passover lamb that the Israelites were commanded to sacrifice and eat before going into the desert, and then by the manna that fed them in the wilderness. He knew that people needed to hear the Sermon on the Mount, and listening is easier when you’re not hungry, so he multiplied the loaves and fishes. He feeds people. He tells us to feed people. This is how to be like Jesus, and it’s how to do what Jesus said, over and over, to do. Free parking!
Sept. 27 is the feast day of St. Vincent de Paul, who said: “Go to the poor. You will find God.”
Truly, the opportunity to give food to someone who needs food is a great gift, and if we can do it, we should thank God we’re on that side of the equation this week. Things could change at any time. I’ve been on the other side, and believe me: It’s much harder to feel that peaceful, restful “free parking” feeling when you land there, but you’re the one in need.
