I am no saint—far from it. In fact, I am so unsaintly that I would probably use a misplaced halo as a Frisbee rather than something to levitate over my head. However, I do perform a saintly task: I help out at the local food bank. This is not something I advertise, and I certainly do not deserve any thanks, but I try to regularly lend an afternoon to be with those who have no choice but to ask for charity.

Food banks are like confessionals—they are places of searing honesty. You see mums open up about the guilt they feel for not being able to feed their children properly. You meet middle-aged family men whose boilers or cars have broken down and who have no idea if they have enough money to pay their mortgages. You meet the elderly, whose golden age of retirement is turning into a prison sentence of counting pennies and dreading the winter.

Unlike a confessional, I can offer no absolution or solution. The only words I have are those of encouragement and support. At times, I am lost for words, asking myself how society has reached a point where food and energy “poverty” are accepted as an unfortunate norm.

There have been notable saints who have cared for the poor—Dorothy Day and Mother Teresa, for instance—but their message has not taken root in any modern government or borough council. I have yet to see Nigel Farage regularly working in a food bank! No leading politician has ever spoken about negotiating with supermarkets to adopt a “foodbank ethos” to reduce the cost of their basic brands so the poor or temporary impoverished can shop without destroying their weekly income. Then I realise I am powerless to change powerful people. I am only responsible for myself.

I wonder if Jesus said, “The poor will be with you always,” because he knew how diffident some can be to the power of charity and love—if they never choose to help others, then poverty (in all its forms) will endure.

However, I can help. I am responsible for me… and you are responsible for you. So, if you are not a leading politician with great power (or perhaps you are) and have a bit of time on your hands—help out at a charity. Together, we can at least make a dent in poverty.