Feeding People, Building Power
Written by Rev. Amy Slater, South Gate United Methodist Church
Seven years ago my family and I moved to Lincoln, NE from Hutchinson, KS. In our family, Hutchinson is known for two things: The Kansas State Fair, and The Mennonite Relief Sale.
Every April we would head down to the fairgrounds for the Mennonite Relief sale. Not because we’re Mennonites, (though I get that it’s confusing: Methodist is close to Mennonite alphabetically.) Not because we needed relief (though we do support the cause of disaster relief.)
We went for the food.
The centerpiece of the entire event is the Feeding of the Multitudes. And I mean multitudes. An army of volunteers function like a well-oiled machine to crank hundreds, maybe thousands of people through that food line. And the food is good. It represents a blend of German, Russian/Ukrainian, and Swiss Mennonite heritage.
After waiting in line for what seems like hours (believe me it’s worth it), you’re presented with the choice of cherry or pluma moos (mohs). Don’t call it mousse, don’t call it pudding, just call it good because it is. And cherry is the correct choice. (I grudgingly accept that the plum might be good too.) Anyway.
They also serve sausage, which is delicious, and borscht. The borscht is great if you like cabbage, which I don’t so I keep moving down to the verenika. Verenika is a dumpling stuffed with farmer’s cheese and drowned in ham and cream gravy. So good.
And finally the best part: bohne bierrogi (bone-uh bur-oh-gee). This little miracle is a yeast bread dumpling stuffed with sweet bean paste and swimming in a sweet cream sauce. It is truly a miracle. You may have heard the story of Jesus turning water into wine. The Kansas Mennonites are carrying on his legacy by turning beans into dessert.
People of faith know how to feed people.
People of all faiths know how a good meal, shared with good people, can feed the spirit as well as the body. From potlucks to morning coffee & donuts to funeral dinners supporting grieving families: there is something sacred about gathering around a table and making sure there is enough to go around.
And I think that’s one reason people of faith are particularly heartbroken by the knowledge that, at any given moment, there are people right here in our community who don’t have enough food.
Last year, I attended the Food Insecurity Summit hosted by Justice in Action. One of the things that struck me was simply how many people in Lincoln and Lancaster County are working to make sure our neighbors have enough to eat.
There were food pantries and feeding ministries, community organizations and nonprofits—and so many faith communities—all working to make sure our neighbors have enough to eat.
It was inspiring.
It was also sobering: all of those people are working so hard because the need is so great.
At South Gate United Methodist Church, one of our ministries is a backpack program partnership with the Food Bank. This program provides food for students at Rousseau Elementary School to take home over the weekend.
Our church first started participating in this program several years ago, before I arrived there. I am told we started out packing 10 bags of food each week.
Ten.
Today, our volunteers pack and deliver 53 bags of food every week. That’s an increase of more than 400%.
I am incredibly proud of that ministry. I’m proud of the volunteers who coordinate food deliveries and unpack the boxes onto the shelves. I’m proud of the volunteers who faithfully show up and pack those bags. I’m proud of the volunteers who load the bags into their truck to transport them over to the school. I’m proud that when the need has increased, our people have responded.
But I am tired of watching that number go up.
I don’t want to stand here a few years from now and proudly tell you that South Gate is packing 75 bags every week. Or 100. Because every one of those bags represents a child and a household that is struggling to get enough food.
And South Gate isn’t the only place where we’re watching the numbers go up. Food pantries are seeing it. All kinds of feeding ministries are seeing it. And schools are seeing it.
I know educators and administrators in our public schools who are passionate about feeding hungry minds—and who are now devoting significant amounts of their time and energy to feeding hungry bellies.
And I am deeply grateful that they do it. But our schools should not have to carry the weight of a problem this large on their own.
People of faith know how to feed people.
We know how to stock food pantries and pack backpacks. We know how to cook community meals. We know how to organize volunteers and collect donations and stretch resources.
And I’m grateful that we do. Because people are hungry right now. So we’re going to keep doing those things.
Next week, South Gate will pack 53 bags of food. And the week after that, we’ll pack them again. As long as those children need food, we’re going to keep showing up.
But our vision has to be bigger than becoming better and better at feeding more and more hungry people.
We want fewer people to be hungry.
And that’s why the work we are committing ourselves to tonight matters. Because none of our faith communities can accomplish that alone. No food pantry can accomplish it alone. No school can accomplish it alone. No single nonprofit or social service agency can accomplish it alone.
But look around this room.
We are not alone.
We come from different faith communities and different traditions. We have different stories and experiences. We don’t necessarily agree about everything.
But we share a conviction that the suffering of our neighbors matters.
And we share a conviction that when something is hurting people in our community, we don’t have to simply accept that this is the way things are.
We can listen. We can build relationships. We can organize. We can bring more people into the work. We can show up. We can speak together. And together, we have power.
People Power.
People Power is the kind of power that happens when ordinary people come together, decide that a problem happening in their community is unacceptable—and work together to make positive change.
That’s the power we are building through Justice in Action. And that is why these listening sessions matter.
Every conversation is an opportunity to strengthen a relationship. Every story we hear helps us understand our community more deeply. Every person who discovers that someone else cares about the same thing they care about is one more person who realizes: I am not alone.
And eventually all of those conversations become something bigger. They become a community of people who are willing to act together.
So I want you to imagine something with me.
I want to imagine a day when I get to stand in front of a group like this and tell you that something has changed at South Gate.
Remember those 53 bags of food we used to pack every week?
We’re down to 40.
And then maybe someday I get to say we’re down to 30.
And then 20.
Maybe someday we’re back to 10.
Not because we’ve become less generous. Not because we’ve stopped caring. Not because we’ve stopped feeding people.
Because fewer families need the bags.
That’s the community I want us to work toward. A community where there is enough. Where our schools can spend more of their energy educating children instead of trying to make sure they have enough to eat. Where people don’t have to choose between groceries and rent. Where the abundance we celebrate around our own tables becomes something accessible for every one of our neighbors.
I don’t believe any of us can build that community alone. But I believe we can build it together.
So go out and listen.
Listen with curiosity.
Listen with compassion.
Listen for the places where our neighbors are hurting.
Listen for the people who are ready to do something about it.
And then bring those voices together.
Because people of faith know how to feed people.
And when people of faith come together—when we listen to one another, organize together, and use our collective power for the good of our neighbors—I believe we can do more than feed people who are hungry.
I believe we can help build a community where fewer people are hungry in the first place.
Let’s forth with this blessing (JIA inclusive blessing):
Blessed is the work of compassion and justice that unites us.
We leave this gathering renewed by the strength and vision that has been shared. The journey is not always easy, and the end will not be ours to complete.
We build the way to justice as we walk and work together.
Ashe. Om Shanti. Amin. Amen. Go in peace, Shalom.
