Juliet Barker, “The Deafening Sound of Silent Tears. The Story of Caring For Life” (Canterbury Press, 2007).

Out of context, the phrase “undeserving poor” can be fatally misunderstood as “people who have fallen on hard times through no fault of their own”. But of course it means the opposite — one half of an ancient moral distinction most of us unconsciously make all the time. Gladly we help the “deserving poor” (orphans, widows, blind people, earthquake victims, etc.) but the other lot — layabouts, ex-offenders, work-shy druggies — sorry: they need to learn that nobody owes them a living. The media are blamed in this book for perpetuating that attitude, but in reality the media are only reflecting what many of us think most of the time. On starting the book I wondered which group it would be about: the “deserving” or the “undeserving poor”? (Sydney Smith memorably chose to give his money to the latter.) — It turns out to be about both.

Since CFL was launched by our neighbours the Reformed Baptists in Cottage Road, their work is of particular interest to all of us in the churches of Headingley. Down the years CFL has helped over 3,000 needy people in Leeds. Many of us will know someone who gives time and talents to the projects at Crag House Farm. A lot of us buy their eggs and plants, or contribute financially in other ways. So this book is certainly for us. And up to 50% of the purchase-price goes to CFL.

The account is very well written — no surprise, since the author is a distinguished historian: Juliet Barker volunteered to write it in order to release CFL’s co-founders, Peter Parkinson and Esther Smith, from the task. On at least three counts, however, it is not a conventional ‘history’: it does not attempt a rounded perspective (for the very good reason that CFL is very much an on-going concern); secondly, miracles feature prominently; and thirdly, it gives a ringing endorsement of CFL’s basis in Christian Faith — just the sort of things that historians (and certain Prime Ministers) normally don’t ‘do’. All honour to Juliet Barker.

There are ten chapters. They tell the story of CFL chronologically, but they are also themed, which adds very much to the interest: e.g. chapter 6, “Homes not Hostels”, explores CFL’s insistence on supporting people for life, not moving them out as soon as possible. Incidentally, we read with disappointment that, when Peter and Esther attended a meeting with future neighbours of Wendy Margaret Home in Yeadon, they could only defuse NIMBY antagonism by promising that no drug addicts or offenders would be housed there. Similarly, chapter 2, “Innocents Abroad”, tells of CFL’s ambitious but failed attempt to help Romanian orphans (1991–3). Verdict: “Important lessons were learned. CFL had overreached itself. One door had been closed, but others remained open.”

These sections reflect the “deserving poor”, but many brief cameos also give the story of “undeserving” individuals — drug addicts, prostitutes, ex-offenders, etc. — and we can be grateful that CFL does all it can to look after them too. It is heart-breaking to read of the early home-life circumstances which drove down those individuals (Barker declares that conditions still prevailing in parts of our city are Dickensian).

Any of us who has dared to pray with William Carey “Teach us, good Lord, to attempt great things in your name and of you to expect great things” faces a reality-check in CFL’s story. They often operate with no financial reserves at all, and seldom if ever with as much as three months’ worth. Do we know any other charity, with responsibilities for over 30 staff plus a working farm and two residential homes, prepared to live in faith like that? Individually they give and live sacrificially. Do we?

It is extraordinary to read how hard CFL has to fight in order to get access to statutory funding. All public agencies refer clients to them in full confidence that CFL will provide first-class quality care, but because CFL will not compromise on its Christian basis, it repeatedly falls foul of eligibility rules for public funds. So in practice, more than half their income for running costs has to come from churches and individual Christians. — Long may they continue, in their own distinctive way, “sharing the love of Jesus”!

Richard Byrn