From the "Hunger" issue of The Living Pulpit, January-March 2007 Bringing Discipleship to the Table By William J. Sappenfield

At over nine-million deaths a year, hunger is preeminent among global disasters, and it is no newcomer to the scene. Malnutrition has been killing—since before recorded history—with astonishing implications. Migration patterns, invasions, wars, and weapons have all come about as people were trying to get something to eat. Yet even with this astonishingly lethal history, western society pays little attention to humanity’s reigning adversary. Elections never turn on issues of hunger. Road construction and arms procurement dominate arguments about how to spend taxes; public service announcements warn about drunk driving and sexually transmitted diseases; and television heroes fight crime, not hunger.

The possibility of a nuclear holocaust has barely passed its sixtieth birthday (alas, it is not yet eligible for retirement), but the relatively recent fear of a mushroom cloud leaves the ancient fear of children’s distended bellies in its irradiated dust. Why can a terrorist attack that kills three thousand prompt the sacrifice of countless lives (civilian and military), the separation of families, and the spending of billions of dollars when starvation kills thousands more every year? Meanwhile our hemisphere debates the price of rehydration kits. This erratic response to humanity’s peril cannot be explained by the malice of the killer, whether it is famine or a terrorist. Even when it is not spouting fanaticism or targeting particular people, malnutrition is still as deadly. And we, who are called by God to sustain life, would agree that allowing a victim to die of starvation is as unthinkable as allowing a victim to die in a terrorist attack.

Each new, and progressively fearful, weapon that is churned out of our factories is greeted with shock and awe (as is its price tag). We feel simultaneously more protected and threatened by humanity’s new ability to annihilate itself: death by technology rivets our attention. Meanwhile venerable old famine maintains its crushing, pervasive, and largely ignored grip on the world.

We’ve gotten used to millions of our fellow creatures starving to death. Toleration of hunger is an overwhelming sin, but we often miscategorize it. We analyze the seven deadly sins and erroneously file world hunger under “greed”; it belongs under “sloth.”
Familiarity is, possibly, the greatest stumbling block in the path to serving God. The people of Jesus’ hometown were unable to get excited about him when they realized he was just a neighborhood boy they had known for years—prompting Jesus’ observation that “prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown and among their own kin and in their own house.” Mark goes on to observe that Jesus “could do no deed of power there.” (Mk 6:4–6)

Familiarity can thoroughly disguise salvation in the same way familiarity can hide the calamities that we could be saved from. Jesus was too well-known in his hometown to be accepted as the Christ, and the result was his inability to bring the power of God to people who needed it. Famine may be too well-known to be considered alterable, and with the same result, the power of God doesn’t help people who need it. This hungry world does not wait for the abilities of God’s people; it waits for the passion of God’s people.

The history of the Church is a good one—when it is excited. The faithful have always been willing to sacrifice and work, to give time and money. We look for opportunities to take a strong stand for right against wrong, but we are not willing to be bored. When the word of God has nothing more innovative to say than “feed the hungry,” Satan plays his trump card: familiarity.

God may occasionally make great or unusual demands of us, and we will doubtlessly respond. He will certainly make constant demands of us, and our response is less assured. The black horse of famine was built for endurance. Our world has always had hunger, and the possibility of hunger will never end. Every human who lives, pauper or potentate, will never be a full twenty-four hours away from hunger.
A success-oriented church can be nonplussed by a problem that won’t go away. Hunger that will be as dangerous tomorrow as it is today can offend their sense of progress. But God never promised his people success or progress. God promised his constant guidance in the face of unremitting danger. God will continue to give the same instructions to deal with the same threat. God tells us to set priorities for the welfare of all people of the world. God tells us to share what we have. God tells us that we can be part of a miracle as great as the manna in the wilderness. We remember, of course, that people got bored by that one too.)

People, hunger, and the guidance of God have all been part of creation since the beginning. God has greater plans than creating a world in which hunger cannot exist. He creates people to live in his world and invites us to care for one another.

About the Author

The Rev. Dr. William J. Sappenfield is the pastor of Peace Lutheran Church in Austin, Texas, and is active in the Lutheran Ecumenical Representative Network. He has served several parishes, since he was ordained twenty-four years ago in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA). He is a frequent contributor to The Living Pulpit.