Charity isn't a check you sign: helping the poor requires your presence.

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It's -5°C outside. In your neighborhood, a man is sleeping under a porch. You pass him every morning on your way to work. A thought crosses your mind: "That's what charities are for, right?" You quicken your pace.

We've all experienced this scene. And this reflex to delegate, too. This winter, as requests for shelter skyrocket and outreach efforts multiply, a disturbing question arises: have we transformed charity In public service? Have we forgotten that Christ never said "give your money to institutions" but "I was hungry and you gave me food"?

Christian commitment to the poor is not just another spiritual option. It is the beating heart of the Gospel. And yet, we have developed a thousand ways to distance ourselves from it: giving money, praying for the poor, Voting for good social policies is all useful, but nothing replaces direct interaction, concrete action, and a personal presence.

This is why entrusting the care of the poorest to others means missing the essence of our faith.

Why personal charity is irreplaceable

Institutions cannot love on your behalf.

Let's be frank: no matter how efficient an institution is, it can't replicate what happens when two human beings truly meet. Catholic Charities does fantastic work. So do Les Restos du Cœur. But they can't replace your gaze, your smile, your time.

Marie-Claire, a 68-year-old retiree, understood this one winter day. She regularly saw Karim, a young homeless man who lived near her bakery. "For months, I gave him 2 euros on my way out. One day, he said to me, 'Thank you for the money, but what I miss most is being spoken to like a normal person.' It moved me deeply."«

Institutions provide essential services: a bed, a meal, a shower. But they cannot offer recognition. The kind that says, "You exist, you matter, you're not just a file or a social problem." This recognition comes through simple gestures: knowing someone's name, remembering their story, taking five minutes to talk.

The delegation numbs our conscience

Here's a revealing test: how many people living in poverty do you know? personally Not like "« the poor »"In general, but what about Jean, Sophie or Ahmed with their unique stories?"

If the answer is zero, it's probably because you—like many of us—have outsourced your Christian responsibility. Perhaps you give generously to charities. Excellent. But what does that really cost you? An automatic transfer each month. Not your time, not your presence, not your discomfort.

Money is the most comfortable form of charity. It allows you to tick the "I've done my part" box without ever stepping outside your comfort zone. No awkward dialogue, no unpleasant smells, no uncontrollable situations. Just a tax receipt and a clear conscience.

The problem is that this distance ultimately dehumanizes. The poor become an abstract category, a subject of political debate, not concrete faces. One can discuss "« poverty »"for hours without ever having listened to the story of a poor person.

The Gospel is radical on this point

Read Matthew 25 again. That passage where Jesus separates the sheep from the goats. What makes the difference? «I was hungry and you gave me food, I was naked and you clothed me, I was in need of food and you gave me drink, I was in need of food and you gave me drink, I was in need of food and you gave me drink, I was in need of food and you gave me drink, I was in need of food and you gave me drink, I was in need and you gave me drink, I was in need and you gave me food ... prison And you visited me.»

Note: he doesn't say "you voted for a good social welfare system" or "you made a generous donation to the Restos du Cœur." He talks about direct, personal, embodied actions. You, with your hands, your time, your presence.

James, in his epistle, is even more blunt: «If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled,’ without giving them the things necessary for the body, what good is that?» (James 2:15-16)

Let's translate that into modern language: "Saying 'there are organizations for that' or 'I will pray for you' is just empty talk if it's not accompanied by concrete action."«

The encounter transforms both people

Here's what they don't tell you enough: help the poor It doesn't turn you into a generous savior. It transforms you. Often more than the person you're helping.

Thomas, an IT professional, started serving meals at a soup kitchen two years ago. He says, «I went there with the idea of ‘giving my time.’ In fact, I was the one who received. I discovered people of incredible human richness. Pierre, who has been sleeping rough for five years, knows Baudelaire by heart. Fatima, who can’t read, has a wisdom I lacked. They taught me resilience, humor in the face of adversity, and gratitude for the little things.»

This is the profound Christian intuition: in the encounter with the poor, it is not only we who give. Christ is present in this encounter. He challenges us, disturbs us, transforms us through the face of the other.

Delegating to institutions means depriving ourselves of this transformative encounter. It means maintaining a clear separation between "them" and "us," between those who help and those who are helped. Whereas the Gospel tells us: we are all beggars for God's love.

How to take concrete action on a daily basis

Start where you are

No need to create an association or commit 20 hours a week. Concrete action begins with small gestures, right where you already live.

In your neighborhood:

  • Identify the people experiencing hardship that you regularly encounter. Learn their names. Greet them. Five minutes of conversation can change their day.
  • Offer a coffee, a sandwich. Not money (which sometimes ends up being misused), but something tangible.
  • Always keep an "emergency kit" in your car or bag: a bottle of water, cereal bars, clean socks (the item most requested by the homeless).

In your parish:

  • Find out about existing initiatives: outreach programs, day centers, clothing banks. Offer a few hours a month.
  • Start a simple project: a monthly breakfast open to all, where people in precarious situations and parishioners can truly meet.
  • Organize smart collections: not just clothes (often unsuitable), but what the charities really need. Call them beforehand.

With your family:

  • Involve your children. Taking a child to distribute sandwiches teaches them more about charity than a hundred sermons.
  • Sponsor a family in need. Not just financially, but by building a relationship: inviting them to dinner, helping with homework, going out together.

Join initiatives that work

You don't need to invent everything. Dozens of organizations are already building bridges between volunteers and people in precarious situations:

The patrols: Samu Social, the Red Cross, local associations. One evening a month, you go out to meet the homeless, offering hot drinks, food, and a listening ear. Simple, direct, effective.

Day care centers: Places where homeless people can rest, take a shower, wash their clothes, and have a coffee. The need isn't just logistical: it's about human presence. A volunteer who welcomes, listens, and shares a moment.

Shared accommodation based on solidarity: Initiatives are emerging all over France: someone temporarily houses someone in difficulty. Not in an anonymous shelter, but in a real home. It's demanding, but profoundly evangelical.

Solidarity cafes and restaurants: Places where rich and poor truly mingle. Not a separate "poor people's soup kitchen," but a space for social mixing. You can have your morning coffee there and naturally rub shoulders with people experiencing hardship.

Build relationships, not services

Here's the classic mistake: processing charity like a service. "I come to give my hour of volunteering, I carry out my task, I leave." You are not a walking sandwich dispenser.

Sophie, a volunteer for ten years, explains: «At first, I came to serve meals. Efficient, quick, friendly. One day, Ahmed said to me: 'You're nice, but you look at me as if I were transparent.' That shocked me. I realized that I was making gestures without really seeing the people.‘

True relationships are built over time. A few principles:

Regularity: It's better to come for two hours every week than for eight hours all at once. People in precarious situations need stability, faces they recognize.

Reciprocity: Never position yourself as a savior. Also, be open to receiving. If someone offers you something (a smile, a story, a drawing), receive it with gratitude.

Respect : Don't ask intrusive questions. Let people tell you what they want to tell you. Never judge their life choices.

Continuity: If you build a relationship, maintain it. Nothing is worse than a volunteer who disappears without warning. If you have to stop, explain why, take the time to say goodbye.

Adapt to real needs

Beware of preconceived notions. People in precarious situations don't always need what you imagine.

Marc, a social worker, explains: "We receive tons of winter clothes in January. Great, except we can't store it all and the peak demand is in October. In June, we run out of shorts and flip-flops. Nobody thinks about it."«

Some often overlooked needs:

Hygiene: Feminine hygiene products, razors, deodorant, toothpaste. Basic but rare in donations.

Communication: Phone credit. Crucial for maintaining social connections, looking for work, and contacting services.

Mobility: Metro/bus tickets. Impossible to look for work or go to an administrative appointment on foot.

Small equipment: Sleeping bags, headlamps, lighters, survival blankets. The things that make the difference between a bearable night and a dangerous one.

Administrative support: Helping to fill out an RSA application, accompanying someone to the prefecture, translating a letter. Often more useful than an extra meal.

Before giving or taking action, do your research. Call the organizations. Ask people themselves: "What do you really need?"«

Don't be afraid of your limits

One last important point: you are not a social worker. You don't have to solve all the problems.

Léa, a volunteer, experienced burnout. "I felt that if I didn't respond to all the requests, I was betraying the Gospel. I ended up exhausted, frustrated, and angry at the people I was helping. Until a priest told me: 'You are not Christ. Do what you can, within your limitations.'"«

Set clear boundaries for yourself:

  • How many hours per week can you give? sustainably ?
  • What types of help can you offer (accommodation, listening, material assistance)?
  • Where does your role end and where does that of professionals begin (severe addictions, serious psychiatric disorders)?

Having limits is not a lack of charity. It is being realistic and therefore sustainable in your commitment.

Charity isn't a check you sign: helping the poor requires your presence.

Overcoming our resistance and fears

«"I don't know how to go about it."»

That's THE first objection. And it's legitimate. We weren't taught in school how to talk to someone sleeping on the street. We're afraid of doing the wrong thing, of hurting them, of being clumsy.

Here's a secret: everyone is clumsy at first. And people in precarious situations know this. They don't ask for perfection, just a little humanity.

Some tips for getting started:

  • Start with someone: Join a patrol with experienced volunteers. Observe, learn.
  • Keep it simple: «"Hello, how are you?" is an excellent start. No need for long speeches.
  • Listen more than you speak: Let the person lead the conversation.
  • Accept the refusals: If someone doesn't want to talk, respect that. You can just say "I'll come back another time.".

And frankly, what do you risk? An awkward moment? A conversation that goes nowhere? That's nothing compared to what the person opposite is going through.

«"What if it's dangerous?"»

Objection number two: fear. Physical fear (what if the person is aggressive?), social fear (what if my neighbors judge?), fear of being manipulated.

Let's be honest: there are indeed risks. Rare, but real. A few precautions:

For physical security:

  • Always go out in pairs or groups during outreach patrols.
  • Stay in public places for the first encounters.
  • Trust your intuition: if a situation makes you uncomfortable, politely remove yourself.
  • Don't bring someone home without having established a genuine relationship of trust (and even then, it needs to be assessed).

For the manipulations:

  • Give tangible things (food, clothing), not large amounts of cash.
  • If you are helping financially, pay directly (rent to the landlord, groceries at the supermarket)
  • Don't be afraid to say no if a request seems excessive.
  • Talk to other volunteers or associations: you are not alone

Regarding social judgment:

  • Take responsibility for your choices. If your loved ones don't understand, calmly explain your approach.
  • Connect with other committed Christians: you need a supportive community.
  • Remember that Jesus was judged for eating with prostitutes and tax collectors. You're in good company.

The real question is not "is it risky?" but "is this minimal risk worth taking?"«

«"I don't have time."»

Third classic objection. Work, children, various obligations: our schedules are full. How can we fit anything else in?

The blunt but accurate answer is: it's a matter of priorities. You find time for Netflix, social media, and drinks with friends. You would find time if it were truly important to you.

Concrete commitment doesn't necessarily require hours and hours. Two hours a month is already huge. One hour each week is wonderful.

And then, integrate charity in your normal life:

  • Do you go to get bread every morning? Take an extra sandwich and give it to someone you regularly see.
  • Do you have 15 minutes before your train? Go chat with the people reaching out in the station hall.
  • Do you do your shopping on Saturday? Add a few items to the neighborhood clothing bank.

Charity It's not always a 7pm appointment on Thursday. It's a way of life, a consideration for others that naturally integrates into your daily routine.

«"Isn't prayer enough?"»

Fourth resistance, this one specifically Christian: «I pray for the poor, Isn't that enough?»

Prayer is essential. Truly. Without it, charitable work can become prideful, exhausting, and devoid of its spiritual dimension. Praying for the people you meet means recognizing that you cannot save them alone, that only God can truly transform hearts and lives.

BUT.

Prayer without action is the trap James denounces in his epistle. It's a cheap way to assuage our conscience. It's forgetting that we are the hands and feet of Christ on earth.

Saint Teresa of Calcutta said: "Prayer in action is love, love in action is service." The two are inseparable.

If you pray sincerely for the poor, This prayer must lead to something concrete. Otherwise, it's just words spoken into the void.

«"I'm not holy enough for that."»

The final, and most insidious, objection: "Who am I to help others? I am not Mother Teresa. I have my own sins, my own weaknesses."«

Excellent news: God is not looking for perfect saints. He is looking for sinners who are willing to help.

Peter was impulsive and cowardly. Paul persecuted. Christians. Matthew collaborated with the Roman occupiers. Mary Magdalene had a scandalous reputation. Jesus called them all not despite their weaknesses, but with them.

Your imperfection is not an obstacle. It is, in fact, an asset: it makes you humble, aware that you too are a beggar for mercy. This awareness prevents you from looking the poor from above, to position yourself as the savior.

You don't need to be perfect. You just need to be present.

Help the poor This is not a spiritual option for highly committed Christians. It is the heart of the Gospel, the place where our beautiful words meet reality.

Institutions are necessary. Give them money, support them, vote for fair social policies. But don't stop there. Let's not entrust the practical care of the poorest to others. This responsibility is ours, personally, individually, irreducibly.

Because in the eyes of that man sleeping under the porch, it is Christ who awaits you. In that young man reaching out to the subway, it is Christ who calls to you. In that family who cannot pay their rent, it is Christ who knocks at your door.

The question is not, "What could I do?" but "What am I going to do now, specifically?"«

Start small. Start today. Learn a name. Offer a coffee. Give two hours of your month. Then see what happens: in the other person's life, but especially in your own.

Charity It is not a sacrifice. It is an encounter. And in this encounter, you will be transformed.

So, ready to take the first step?

Via Bible Team
Via Bible Team
The VIA.bible team produces clear and accessible content that connects the Bible to contemporary issues, with theological rigor and cultural adaptation.

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