Who Is Responsible for Caring for the Needy?

Since the on-again, off-again executive order freezing federal grants in early February, the leadership of our small faith-based nonprofit has been deeply reflecting on the power wielded by those who control federal funds. That day of upheaval made it clear that with just a word, everything could change.

I work for the New Mexico Dream Center, which serves homeless and at-risk youth as well as survivors of human trafficking. Roughly 55% of our budget comes from direct or pass-through federal funds. My salary is primarily paid by the Office for Victims of Crime.

When the turmoil began a few weeks ago, it led to deep introspection about how we’re funded, why our financial structures are the way they are, and what funding should look like moving forward.

On a more philosophical level, I began to ask myself: Whose responsibility is it to care for people who have been victimized, traumatized, and generally abused?

The federal government began implementing large-scale social service programs with the Federal Emergency Relief Act of 1933. The Great Depression had gripped the nation, “resulting in the existing or threatened deprivation of a considerable number of families and individuals of the necessities of life, and making it imperative that the Federal Government cooperate more effectively with the several States and Territories and the District of Columbia in furnishing relief to their needy and distressed people” (Federal Emergency Relief Act of 1933, as cited in Trattner, 1999, p. 241). That emergency declaration, followed by the Social Security Act of 1935, set a new standard for who should care for marginalized populations. At that point, the government started playing a key role in caring for the poor.

I’ve started to analyze my own beliefs about this topic, considering the implications of allowing the government to fund and run social service programs.

Today, there is no shortage of loud voices demanding change and accountability. Opinions span the spectrum, fueled by outrage and political entanglement. While it’s true that our government is designed to be “by the people, for the people,” is that even possible in a system as bureaucratically heavy as the current U.S. government? When it comes to creating, developing, and managing social programs, does the government truly understand the needs of the marginalized and how to meet those needs?

Once upon a time, care for the poor and marginalized was the responsibility of the Church. G. B. Ferngren, in his 2009 book Medicine and Health Care in Early Christianity, mentions the “concept of Christian duty to care for the poor and sick led to the foundation of the earliest hospitals in the fourth century, which were unlike any institutions that preceded them because of their offer of aid to all in need regardless of class or social status” (p. 124).

Matthew 25:40 (New International Version) certainly addresses how caring for the “least of these” is a direct service to God. Consider 1 John 3:17 (New International Version): “If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him?” Or Proverbs 31:8-9 (New International Version), which reads, “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.”

When we distance ourselves from caring for those in need, it becomes easy to fall into an us-vs.-them mentality. Without getting our hands “dirty,” it’s easy to assume that it’s someone else’s job to take care of “those people.”

I can use myself as an example of how quickly we can become disengaged. Many years ago, our family started sponsoring a girl in Bolivia through Compassion International. Initially, we had regular communication with her, exchanging letters and updates. We even visited her during a family vacation to Bolivia. Eventually, she aged out of the program, and we were assigned another child. My monthly contribution was set to autopay, and it became easy to forget about the sponsorship altogether. We were financially “invested” but not truly involved beyond that.

This scenario is similar to what we experience today as taxpayers. We know that part of our hard-earned money funds programs that support those in need, yet the marginalized often remain out of sight and out of mind. Unless we are directly impacted, we may remain blissfully ignorant when federal funding cuts affect care programs.

How do we transform apathy or ignorance into action? It begins with curiosity and conversation. Who do you believe is responsible for caring for the marginalized? What role have you played in the past, and should your level of involvement change in the future?

As your introspection and conversations guide you forward, I hope you feel inspired to support local nonprofits in your community. If you are concerned about the unhoused or children in the foster care system, get involved. Do you want to see justice for victims of human trafficking or expanded resources for those struggling with addiction? Take action. Whatever cause matters most to you, contribute your time, expertise, and financial support to make a difference.

Imagine how our nation could be transformed if the faith community once again actively participated in caring for the marginalized!

References

Ferngren, G. B. (2009). Medicine and health care in early Christianity. Johns Hopkins University Press.

Trattner, W. I. (1999). From poor law to welfare state: A history of social welfare in America (6th ed.). Free Press.