For years, a truck filled with food has gone around the city where I live. On the outside of this vehicle are painted the words: “When I feed the poor, they call me a saint; when I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a communist.”
The truck belongs to an agency called “Food For Free” that purchases fresh fruit and vegetables, receives left-over bread from bakeries, and then distributes most of it at 40 centers where poor people come. Agency staff members also make home deliveries to some people who are unable to get out. In warm weather, staffers glean food from area farms and also take contributions from farmers’ markets.
The quotation on the truck comes from the late Helder Camara who was archbishop of Recife in Brazil. Physically small, but spiritually a giant, Dom Helder (as his people called him) was widely known because of his passion for social justice. I had the privilege of spending time with him on two occasions in the 1970s when he visited Boston.
The work of this spiritual leader, who died in 1999 at age 90, came back to me this past week as I joined others in celebrating Janet Murray, a woman who has spent many years working with Food for Free, serving the hungry people of our community. On the occasion of her recent retirement, those who have supported her came together in a local movie theatre to honor her for her service to the poor.
There is something spiritually uplifting being with people who reach out to others in need. For me it serves as a moral tonic to talk with fellow citizens committed to the least fortunate in the community. They strike me as what another writer has called “wisdom people,” those who have discovered how serving others makes for a fulfilled life.
Janet Murray, typically of her, seemed to be just one of us in the crowd. Unassuming, ready to give credit to others, she radiates love for family members, friends, associates, and people like me who had simply come by to do her honor. Again, contact with such a person serves as a strong stimulus to be more giving of oneself.
Two weeks previously, on Martin Luther King Day, I had stopped by a demonstration outside our city hall to talk with people who oppose making war against Iraq. On possibly the coldest day of the winter, some 450 people were parading in a large oblong formation, many holding signs and calling out their reasons why this war should not be started.
“I wasn’t happy about going out in the cold, I hate the cold, ” 87-year old Boone Schirmer told me. “I’ve broken the same hip twice and I’m deaf as a post,” he continued, “but I’m glad I went.”
His wife, Peggy Schirmer, is a year older, walks with difficulty, and is suffering through the early stages of Alzheimer’s disease. “When you get old, you are more limited,” she told me. “But you live within your limits.” She and her husband went up and down the line twice, she in a wheelchair.
I found inspiration in such courage on the part of old people. Of course, it helps that I share their misgivings about the planned attack. Taking my cue from the bishops in my spiritual tradition, I remain unconvinced about the moral justification for undertaking this military action.
The stark contrast between the preparations for war against Iraq and the plight of the poor among us at home struck me forcibly. Chad Cover, who currently serves as director of Food for Free, puts this contrast clearly: “We’re willing to spend 100 billion dollars to fight a war, but we can’t provide basic social services to the needy.”
Like many another public servant, Chad Cover draws inspiration for serving the poor from the spiritual tradition in which he grew up. And that same tradition moves many of us to resist the war that may be fought in our name.
Following the lead of Helder Camara, I long for the day when our nation devotes more energy to finding out why so many people here and elsewhere in the world have to scrape for food, and less energy to building up the Pentagon’s budget.
Richard Griffin