Explainer

Change

16 June 2023

5 min read

Finding an answer to poverty

A new TV ad challenges stereotypes around how to help the poor. Tarryn Pegna unpacks the impact of one of the most effective ways to eradicate poverty.

Tarryn Pegna

Tarryn Pegna is a writer for aid and development charity, Tearfund. She helps to communicate where, why and how the organisation works.

A woman carries a plastic bucket on her head and held by raised arms and hands.

We’ve all seen them – haunting images of starving children, flies on their faces, begging for help – powerless to change the cruel lot they’ve landed in life… There’s more to the story, though. More to the people in the pictures.

Extreme poverty is a very real problem. The living conditions faced by many around the world are, indeed, truly devastating, and in hoping to urge a response and to help, we can fall into a clichéd portrayal (and understanding) of need that strips people of a sense of dignity and agency.

But, the answer to poverty can be uplifting, sustainable, restorative and empowering: the answer can be the Church.

You may have seen Tearfund’s new TV ad. If not, you can watch it now. With some humour it challenges some of the stereotypes about how those in the developed world go about trying to eradicate poverty elsewhere.

The ad shows a number of excellent things that a community in Burundi has achieved which have transformed the lives of the people living there. It features them talking about the training that made it possible – but what is this training? And what does it have to do with Tearfund or the church?

Well, here’s how it works:

It all starts with Bible studies. These are designed to help people identify the skills and resources that already exist within their community, and to see new ways they can use them to respond to their needs.

Local church members (or leaders) receive training to facilitate these Bible studies and share the message within their community.

Each Bible study ends with a call to action. This may be something small to start with – like a change in a harmful way of thinking – but can quickly grow in scale to things like improving or building schools, health centres and roads.

Tearfund and our local partner organisations help to provide the practical knowledge and skills training needed to make it possible to carry out these plans.

In this way, churches and communities can find themselves working together to lift themselves out of poverty for good and to realise their God-given potential and thrive.

I played my part in the construction, even if I was not strong, I worked with others in digging the road and moving rocks.

The ad features Cecile, a young married mum with one daughter. She tells us her experience:

‘We understood the power of coming together as a church and working together for our own development. A changed church changes the community for the better. Our congregation was able to build a health centre, a road and bring up water.

‘I am happy to be part of this church as I come to know God and see his hand. I now have a church family, we love and support one another. I played my part in the construction, even if I was not strong, I worked with others in digging the road and moving rocks, and we also contributed some money.

‘It is like an awakening. People are more engaged, we have been inspired to change and to change our community and we are now active.

‘Apart from building the health centre, more people are working hard to change their situation. Some have started small businesses, I’ve also been selling vegetables and I hope that once I get enough capital, I’ll be able to start a small business at the market and earn more money to help [me and my husband] improve our lives and build a house.’

Every day, thousands of people around the world suffer and die because of poverty. Christians don’t believe that this is God’s plan. At Tearfund we believe that the church is part of his plan to respond – and that we all have a part to play in ending extreme poverty.

Is the church even still relevant though?

Here in the UK, it might seem strange to be so focused on faith and the church. The most recent census showed that, as a nation, we have a steadily declining affiliation with Christianity, and the news last year made much of the fact that only around ten per cent of the population regularly attend a church service. It might be worth wondering whether the church has lost some of its ability to influence change.

Almost three million UK adults sought help from churches or faith organisations because of the cost-of-living crisis.

In England, Anglican bishops are still members of the House of Lords, so they have some voice, but for the rest of us…why the faith? Where does God fit into things and is the church even practical or relevant in society these days?

It actually works

In spite of the declining number of worshippers, in 2022 almost 3 million UK adults sought help from churches or faith organisations because of the cost-of-living crisis.

During the worst of Covid, churches across the country provided a hub for making sure the most vulnerable in their communities were fed and provided for. Many church buildings became food preparation and distribution centres and local church members became temporary delivery drivers.

The local church around the world

In the same way, around the world, the church is often first on scene in times of need.

From its unique position right within a community, the local church knows intimately the needs of the people it serves.

And in many places where Tearfund works, the church has a significant and trusted influence, giving it a voice for change and for justice in society.

The church, as a vehicle for transformation, has the capability to work powerfully and effectively in a way that lasts.

No matter where it is, the Christ-following church has always been about the transformation of lives and about community: called by Jesus to first love God (allowing him to transform Christians’ own lives), and then to love our neighbours as ourselves (bringing transformation to our communities).

More than could, the church should be the answer to poverty.

The church is a sustainable, efficient, empowering and highly cost-effective way of helping whole communities lift themselves out of poverty.

The church (in all its various forms and denominations) is the largest non-governmental, non-profit organisation on the planet. Tearfund itself was born out of the church, and recently an independent study that we commissioned confirmed in numbers what our own experience, stretching back over 50 years, had already shown us: the church is a sustainable, efficient, empowering and highly cost-effective way of helping whole communities lift themselves out of poverty.

By equipping the local church within a community facing poverty to find solutions to their needs, the people being supported can become agents in their own rescue.

Like many charities, there are questions about the impact they have. Just how effective is working through the church really?

In fact, researchers discovered that a social value of £28 was released for every pound invested in community transformation work through the church.

Practically, that means that when compared to people in communities that had not received training and equipping through the church, those that do are:

27% more satisfied with their lives in general
113% more likely to work with others on shared projects
51% more likely to have maintained or increased their income in the last year
46% more likely to speak up and raise issues with decision-makers
62% more likely to have invested in assets, such as property or livestock in the last year
and 26% more likely to feel confident they could cope with unexpected events in the future.

Working through the local church has the power to bring positive, whole-life transformation which spreads throughout a community – so that even those who aren’t directly involved in the activities still experience some benefits.

Article

Change

Mental Health

2 April 2024

4 min read

Don't try and cope on your own

The company of those who care helps when handling traumas.

Katherine Amphlett

Katherine is a counsellor based in the West Midlands.

a man in a wheelchair sits in a subway station holding a sign reading 'seeking human kindness'.

Michael, Boston, 2018.

Matt Collamer on Unsplash.

I did a horrible piece of training at the weekend. You have to do a lot of continual learning if you’re a counsellor, and some of it is hard going. This particular session (with Cruse, a national bereavement charity) was about self-harm, and it contained sheets and slides and lists of the ways in which people hurt, damage and punish themselves. Usually as a way of expressing another kind of pain or because it’s the only thing they can control in a chaotic world. Six hours of it, on Zoom.

All of us have topics that we struggle with – areas that we find difficult to contemplate – and self-harm is one of mine. It is so far from my own experience of reality that it makes me feel square and naïve and overprotected, and every part of me revolts against it in some way. How terrible that people who are already suffering can only find relief by inflicting further harm on themselves! And some of the injuries are so grievous. Mortifyingly, my main reaction on this occasion was an urge to put my fingers in my ears and tell everyone to STOP IT... not just the trainer, but the poor souls involved in hurting themselves too. Training can be humbling, in the way it reveals the limits of your own compassion to you.

Clearly though, telling people to ‘stop it’ is not an option, however you might feel! So what to do?

Christianity, usefully, offers quite a lot of different options for coping with difficult life stuff, so I started considering some of these as I attended to the trainer. The peaceful, thoughtful series of Lent reflections I’ve been listening to recently, for instance… might they help? Um no, not suitable really. Too meditative. You can’t ‘gather the scattered pieces of your consciousness and centre them on God’ when someone is talking about teenagers cutting themselves in ‘risky places, or too deep’ I found. Tranquillity of mind is too passive a response.

So then I thought about people talking sometimes of being able to hand over their troubles to Christ. He ‘takest away the sins of the world’, as the communion service puts it... his arms are open and he is God, so he can bear the weight. But that didn’t work either. Too mystical. It felt as if action was required, not meek handing over of sorrows because I couldn’t bear to contemplate them. I don’t think we’re meant to dodge responsibility and simply go, ‘Ugh, you have these ones Lord because I don’t want them’.

So, I sat there writhing inwardly and feeling sweaty and miserable and wishing I was somewhere else.

This kind, accepting, unshocked conversation was immensely comforting and reassuring, I found. There was safety in it, and daylight, and hope.

But then I started wondering how everyone else at Cruse copes with such things. I began looking at the other faces on my screen… the 21 of my colleagues who were also attending the training, almost all of them volunteers.

There was the strong, calm face of Manju, an Indian doctor lady, and Suki, a smiley gappy-toothed African lady, who both work on the triaging team, assessing callers as they come in and assigning them to helpers. There was Richard the First and Richard the Second, both white, one younger than me, one older, both friendly and knowledgeable and kind. There was Naga, a retired nursing sister who looked Scandewegian, and Christina, ditto – except she’d been a teacher. And Nick, not much more than a teenager by the look of him, and Sat, a big Brummie taxi driver in a turban. William looked as if he might be an academic, with his leather elbow patches, and Keith had his sound off due to the presence of a large cat on his desk, which leaned over periodically to miaow into his mike. Lots of others too.

And suddenly I realised that there was my answer: all those good people, giving up their Saturday because they cared. Listening to stories of suffering because they wanted to understand better, in order to be able to help – to do something for the broken and the sad among us.

That’s the presence of God, surely: that an army of people turn out, day in, day out, to do things simply because they are good. There is no payment, no special recognition. They have to listen to some very difficult things and contemplate darkness that they wouldn’t necessarily in their own lives. But there they all were that morning, one small group among thousands of others all over the country no doubt – ready to serve, and cheerful and friendly and attentive.

They talked matter-of-factly about cases they’d encountered and situations which can lead people to injure themselves, and about self-harm as a phenomenon in certain social groups. About how it can be treated, about how it can heal and disappear with the right care and compassion. About how sometimes it can even be preferable to other alternatives. It is much easier, for example, to stop self-harming than it is to recover from an eating disorder.

This kind, accepting, unshocked conversation was immensely comforting and reassuring, I found. There was safety in it, and daylight, and hope. A feeling that even if someone is suffering, there are others who are able to meet them there, to keep them warm and hold them up. That people do act as the hands and feet of God actually sometimes, regardless of creed or faith or fallenness.

Looking at them all I felt so much better… and that if they could do it, I could. We only need to work in company together and our collective strength will keep us all afloat, rescuers and rescued alike. ‘Be not afraid’ the Bible says over and over again. It is very much easier not to be, when you’re not trying to be brave by yourself.