Mending our own brokenness will bring food to all
August has a wonderful sense of slow, languorous living. The days fold into longer warm evenings, a time to enjoy the celestial lightshow of the Perseid meteor showers or the storied constellations. Subtle hints of fall begin to slip through on the breeze. The smell of ripening apples hints at fresh, fragrant pies to come.
Historically, art and poetry have captured the celebration of harvest. These images embrace a story of farmers bringing into safe-keeping what the land has produced. There is the implication that a successful crop ensures there will be enough for all to eat.
A story in the Gospel of Mark highlights one of the ways food is denied to the hungry. Jesus and his disciples were chastised for plucking “heads of grain” on the Sabbath. They were hungry. It seemed natural for the disciples to harvest a small amount of grain to feed themselves. There was a spiritual rightness in what they were doing. That small exertion on the Sabbath day, when all work is normally prohibited, was, after all, in the service of life itself. It was hunger versus the rules.
Access to food is a complex issue. Distribution is a key component. How does an abundant harvest become inaccessible to the poor? One way is waste.
The Food and Agricultural Organization of the United Nations states that one third of all food produced for human consumption globally is lost or wasted. The issue of food waste and unequal distribution is deeply worrying.
As I came to know and listen to the residents of the tent city in Victoria, and others who live in poverty, I have been shown how hard it is for some people in this city to get enough healthy food to eat. This is difficult to hear when I know there are many wonderful and committed people who donate money, food and time to food banks and other food programs.
Yet the cost of food continues to rise and there is no resultant change in income assistance, and donations to food banks and other distribution programs are decreasing. Access to fresh, affordable produce is becoming limited for a growing portion of the population. Hunger continues to stalk the most vulnerable in our community.
In Mark’s gospel, Jesus often spoke of “the poor.” The most famous Markian quote — “the poor are always with us” — has been used to validate the myth of the undeserving poor in the development of social policy over the centuries. And this view of deserving versus undeserving poor has been used as a rationale for feelings of helplessness and hopelessness people experience when wondering what “to do” about problems from empty food banks to homelessness.
The notion of poverty as an insoluble problem that will never go away has been a salve for communal guilt and affirmed dismissive attitudes. It is even more worrying when it is clear there are enough resources for everyone. We know there is enough to go around.
Yet if we understand Jesus to be speaking of spiritual poverty, then our attitudes and actions must shift. We can no longer sit comfortably in judgement of others. The tables are turned — we become the “poor” of whom Jesus spoke. It is this poverty that drives policies that keep a growing number of people in financial poverty and ensures they will never have enough healthy food to eat.
What would it be like to embrace the spiritual challenge of one’s own brokenness rather than maintaining a blaming view on the brokenness of others? How might that promote a harvest that ensures there is access to enough good food for all?