If my belief were a Monopoly game, the church food pantry would be the spot labeled “free parking.” If you are in need of food, you can visit the church to collect free food, as it is simply part of the church. Straightforward, uncomplicated, free, and sometimes incredibly significant.
My family is not, thanks to God’s grace, reliant on the food pantry to nourish us, but I am very thankful that it is available — both for those it helps and for my own benefit whenever I have the opportunity to contribute.
I keep my participation straightforward: During my weekly grocery run, I grab a few extra items of shelf-stable food — the identical foods, and the same brands, that I prefer for my own family, because if I have the means to spend a bit more to choose the quality options for myself, then I can definitely extend that to someone who has limited choices in life.
When I have one of my children with me, I allow them to choose an item, which makes them feel more engaged. The following day, when we attend Mass, I place the items in one of the collection boxes — or, preferably, I request one of the kids to do it, ensuring they maintain a practical connection with this essential act of charity.
And that’s all there is to it. Straightforward, significant, low-maintenance, and efficient. Complimentary parking for Catholics.
But what is the reason someone would require a notion such as “free parking” within the Church, particularly if they aren’t impoverished and don’t require its assistance? Although God may be straightforward, our connection with his Church can become intricate. Numerous facets of our faith can turn painful or perplexing or strained, making it increasingly difficult to identify any connection point with God, any place where we can maintain simplicity and simply exist.