This article is the ninth in CPJ’s Ink & Impact series featuring young writers from across the country. In today’s political climate, often marked by cynicism and despair, CPJ’s annual Ink & Impact conference helps Christian young people become messengers of hope. In a world dominated by digital distractions, Ink & Impact develops writers who can articulate complex political topics in an approachable, nuanced way to inform the public. The views and opinions reflected in these articles are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official position of CPJ.
In the spring of 2024, I interned at a neighborhood organization in North Philadelphia called The Simple Way. One of the ways this organization showed up for the local community was through stocking a community fridge and food stand located just outside our building. Every so often, a coworker and I would hop in the truck and drive the mile and a half or so to a grocery store, load up on shelf-stable foods, chicken and milk, and put the food in the stand. As we stocked, neighbors would emerge from their row homes and walk over, saying a greeting and inquiring about the food. By the time we finished stocking the stand, it was already half gone.
The city of Philadelphia has a poverty rate of 23.5%, nearly double the national rate. But this burden is not evenly dispersed through the city. According to Tower Health, North Philly has a life expectancy 20 years lower than the more affluent neighborhood of Old City. A large part of this is due to food insecurity, which Feeding America defines simply as “when people don’t have enough to eat and don’t know where their next meal will come from.” It is also about a lack of nutritious food for a healthy, active life. 25% of Philadelphia’s children are food insecure, as are more than 200,000 residents overall. Meanwhile, more than 30% of food in the United States is thrown away.
Food accessibility was not intended to look this way. God’s intention for food distribution can be seen in the command God gives in Leviticus 23:22: “When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Leave them for the poor and for the foreigner residing among you. I am the LORD your God.” This radical command implies leaving intentional margin when harvesting, which was the source of profit for ancient farmers. In other words, God is telling the people to sacrifice a portion of their profit for the common good of the vulnerable, in this case the poor and the foreigner.
But what does faithfully living out this command actually look like? We can see it playing out in Ruth 2. The land of Moab, where Ruth is from, has been stricken by famine, and together with her mother-in-law Naomi she comes to Bethlehem seeking nourishment. Looking for people who put this ancient command into practice, she begins to glean behind the employees of Boaz harvesting the fields. Boaz not only allows Ruth to glean in his field, but tells her not to go to other fields, out of concern that others may abuse this vulnerable, impoverished widow from another land. The implication is that not all the people of God took this command seriously.
But Boaz takes it a step further. Not only does he allow the gleaning to occur from a distance, he invites the marginalized Ruth to partake in mealtimes with his employees and his family. Boaz shows us what Scripture’s vision of justice looks like in food distribution: protection of the marginalized, feeding the hungry, and giving dignity to the undignified in the process. It is not just the mere passing off of excess without ever looking the recipient in the eyes, and it is not a fearful hiding from the poor while hoarding excess. Boaz demonstrates that justice takes the poor seriously and builds genuine relationships with them.
The reality in Philadelphia does not exactly echo the Leviticus command or the hospitable example of Boaz.
A Crisis Deepening
During the pandemic, the number of families and individuals that needed food from food pantries in Philadelphia spiked. Post-pandemic, these numbers were steadily decreasing. But since the government shutdown in fall 2025, when the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) was temporarily cut off, and following new SNAP work requirements, demand in the region has reached significantly higher levels.
Mary Fox is the executive director of Bless Philadelphia, a faith-based nonprofit that among other things does a weekly food distribution in the neighborhood of Wissinoming, near North Philly. According to the 2020 census, 35.5% of that zip code area receives food stamps. By comparison, the national average that year was 11.8%. Fox says that while she expected numbers to jump up during the federal government shutdown, what she and her team didn’t expect was for the numbers to remain high even after the government reopened.
“Our pantry could get away with ordering between 1,000 to 1,500 pounds a week. Now we’re well over 4,000 on average a week. Even ordering that much food week after week, there are routinely empty shelves by the time we finish our distribution. We open our doors at 6, but the line starts forming at 4 p.m.,” Fox said.
Designed to fill a gap in need after SNAP funds dwindle, food pantries do not have the kind of infrastructure or funding to provide the scale needed. But after recent SNAP cuts and new work requirements following the signing of the Big Beautiful Bill in July 2025, food pantries have increasingly been bearing the brunt of food insecurity. SNAP participation in Pennsylvania dropped 10% as a direct result. Feeding America warns that new eligibility requirements around SNAP will jeopardize up to 9 billion meals annually. Work requirements, however well-intentioned, often create additional barriers to accessing benefits, limiting participation for both the employed and the unemployed. Considering SNAP participation is as high as 50% in some North Philly zip codes, the implications for people there are significant.
What the Gleaning Command Looks Like Today
What would it look like to put into practice a Leviticus model of refusing to harvest to the edges of the field and to demonstrate Boaz hospitality to the marginalized in 21st century America? Fox and the Bless Philadelphia team have some ideas.
The food bank they acquire stock from is Philabundance. According to their website, that food comes from “generous donations from national and local food manufacturers, wholesalers, local retailers, brokers, food distributors, farmers, and other food industry partners.” Philabundance has also launched a “Retail Rescue” program in partnership with 350 retailers and grocers to donate surplus food that goes unsold. In other words, donors to that food bank are practicing acts of leaving the grain at the edges of their field unharvested, which in turn go to supporting the poor and foreigner through food pantries scattered throughout the city and in the surrounding counties.
Bless Philadelphia, meanwhile, keeps Boaz-like hospitality alive despite the high numbers. While it can be tempting to only look at the scores of people coming through the line as mere customers that need to be fed and sent off, Fox recognizes that not everyone coming in the door is after only the free food.
“Some folks who come for the food every week come for the socialization. They feel like coming to the pantry every week is a guaranteed time they can see friends, see familiar faces, have someone say a prayer with them,” Fox said. As a result, Fox is reimagining what a simple weekly food distribution can be, echoing the Boaz tradition of inviting the widowed gleaner Ruth to share a meal with him and his workers.
“We’re trying to create a culture within our pantry where people can find community in a more meaningful way beyond just standing in line and going home. We’re trying to create an atmosphere that encourages that sense of community to grow. We serve coffee and pastries; some people have started to donate books. We set it up coffee shop style, so we have tables and chairs set up, music, encouraging people to hang out,” Fox said.
They even brought in the Vetri Community Partnership, a mobile kitchen that teaches recipes using the food from the food pantry to neighbors who want to figure out how to best utilize the provisions. Because of Bless Philadelphia’s community vision, some neighbors who originally came just for food are beginning to volunteer and distribute that same food.
Fox’s vision is more than just another food pantry. The nonprofit provides toiletries, showers, diapers, prayer, resources from a social worker, and companionship alongside food. She describes the vision as a “one stop shop” that fills stomachs and other needs while building a community.
The Role of Government and a Public Justice Response
While food banks like Philabundance practice the ancient command of margin and distributors like Bless Philadelphia follow the Boaz example of hospitality, food banks and pantries are not designed to solve a hunger crisis by themselves. Government also has a central role to play in collaboration with pantries through modernizing benefits. A key advantage of SNAP, as Feeding America points out, is that the money goes back to local grocers, boosting the local economy and generating $1.50 for every $1 spent on the program. According to the New York Times, SNAP provides nine meals for every one meal supplied by a food pantry. Yet the amount of benefits is based on an outdated Thrifty Food Plan that gives just around $6 a day according to Feeding America.
The Bill Emerson Good Samaritan Food Donation Act reflects what public policy can look like when it takes the gleaning command seriously—protecting grocers, nonprofits, and individuals from liabilities when donating excess food to people who need it. Poverty USA recommends further expanding this bill to protect grocers from rare liabilities to further encourage 21st century renditions of the ancient command to leave margin.
And as consumers, we can support organizations doing this work, advocate for policies that modernize SNAP, and seek out retailers who donate surplus food rather than discarding it.
When Ruth was at her lowest, it was those who took God’s food justice commandments seriously who not only fed her, but affirmed her dignity in the process. What if, like Boaz, we in the 21st century not only did our due diligence, but went out of our way to build bridges of hospitality with the hungry? As Christians, we have the mandate and the concrete examples to reimagine ways of food distribution that feeds mouths and honors people at the same time. Far from being irrelevant, God’s command for gleaning offers a framework for addressing the food access crisis we face today.
Joshua Steen is a recent social work graduate from Eastern University, seeking to discern and enact God’s justice on a personal, communal, and structural level. He lives and works in Philadelphia.
Graphic by Center for Public Justice
