by Sarah Withrow King
Photo by @ninastrehl | Unsplash
In May of this year, COVID-19 outbreaks in meatpacking plants grabbed national headlines around the world. Despite their identification as hotspots for the spread of the virus, in the US, slaughterhouses were ordered to stay open as “essential” businesses, along with farms and other food packaging facilities. As a result, months later, more than 45,000 US slaughterhouse workers have been infected with COVID-19, 214 of whom have died.
Slaughterhouse workers around the globe are often members of underserved or marginalized communities. U.S. data indicates that, early in the pandemic, 87% of COVID-19 cases in slaughterhouse workers occurred among racial and ethnic minorities. In Germany, the majority of workers infected in an early outbreak were from Romania and Bulgaria. And after a cluster of cases was traced to one meatpacking plant in Australia, a worker told the Guardian Australia that they felt unable to question management policies or practices because of a language barrier. “I don’t speak English well,” said the employee. “I just stay silent and work...We just come to the factory and go home. Everything they tell us to do, we don’t say no.”
Communication failure about critical health and safety information is just one of the many injustices faced by the people who have continued to work in food production as the global pandemic rages on. Even before 2020, workers on farms and in slaughterhouses endured low wages, abysmal working conditions, harassment, lack of access to adequate health care or benefits, unfair labor practices, and more. As COVID-19 began to take its toll on slaughterhouse workers, the United States Department of Agriculture moved to increase the already-too-fast-line speeds at chicken plants from 140 to 175 birds per minute (faster line speeds force faster movement). A Foster Farms chicken plant in Livingston, California was forced to close recently. The company had months to heed the local health department’s urgent warnings and to increase safety precautions at the plant. Nine workers have died. Hundreds more tested positive for the disease.
Every slaughterhouse, farm, and food factory worker is a beloved child of God, created by God, formed in the image of God, and a member of our community, our family. Our animal kin also suffer in this food system that values profit over all. And they, too, are beloved by God, created by God, and members of the whole community of creation.
How can Christians live in community—in mutual interdependence with all of creation—in a time of despair, pandemic, and injustice for so many? Paul’s letter to the early church in Rome may guide us:
Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” No, “if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” Romans 12:9-21
I think as we read this passage, it’s important to be conscious of the ways in which we situate ourselves within it. Members of the early church in Rome, for instance, were in a very different position than the one in which my identity as a white, North American Christian places me. In many ways, my social location aligns me more with the Roman Empire and its power than with the early believers. In this passage Paul, like Jesus before him, reminds believers that there are ways to subvert the empire and dismantle systems of oppression that do not rely on mimicking the acts of oppressors. Weeping and rejoicing together, and holding space for one another to flourish, is one way we might live that out today. In a time of pandemic, perhaps that means holding a video prayer meeting, writing and sharing a Psalm, or meeting as a small group to lament and give thanksgiving for those who are abused by the food system.
I’ve been thinking about how I can be mutually interdependent with farmed animals and slaughterhouse workers, when, even without the limits of physical distancing, I lack proximity to both. Perhaps you share this dilemma. So, I offer a few suggestions:
For readers who eat animal products and who are connected to slaughterhouse workers and animals in that way: research the farms and slaughterhouses. What can you learn about these members of our family? How can your eating and community building practices better reflect love, affection, honor, service, hospitality, harmony, peace, and good?
For readers who do not eat animal products: research the farms and packing facilities of the plant-based foods you eat. What can you learn about these members of our family? As CreatureKind co-director Aline Silva wisely says, “A local organic peach picked by slave labor isn’t CreatureKind.” How can your eating practices better reflect love, affection, honor, service, hospitality, harmony, peace, and good?
For readers in the US: let your government representatives know that you support the Farm System Reform Act, that you want to see changes to our food system by returning power and resources from mega-corporations to local communities.
For all readers: follow the social media accounts of organizations like the United Farmworkers of America and The United Food and Commercial Workers International Union. As these organizations work for justice for their members, they shed light on the real stories of people working in food systems. Pray specifically for the people you meet through these accounts, and follow through on actions these organizations recommend.
This is not a comprehensive plan for the community to flourish, but a few creaturely steps we might take to care for all our neighbors. In the words of Father Ken Untener, “It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.” May it be so.
