On the International Day for the Eradication of Poverty (17 October 2025), we are reminded that the fight against poverty is not just a policy issue or a humanitarian goal, it’s our Biblical mandate.
Around the world, churches are not only preaching hope; they are living it. In communities where poverty seems insurmountable, the church is often the first to respond, the last to leave and the most persistent in believing that change is possible.
I’ve seen this first-hand through my work with Christians Against Poverty (CAP) and most recently in my role at Compassion. In places where resources are scarce and hardship is a daily reality, the church continues to be a beacon of transformation. These stories don’t just inspire, they challenge our assumptions and reignite our belief that poverty can be eradicated. Not by grand gestures but by loving, everyday acts of faith, unity and sacrificial generosity.
Faith
The International Day for the Eradication of Poverty was established by the United Nations in 1992. Since then, extreme poverty (now defined as living on less than $3 a day) has dramatically declined, from around 40 per cent of the world’s population to less than 10 per cent today.
Yet a recent barometer into public attitudes in the UK towards poverty, commissioned by Compassion UK, revealed that only 41 per cent believed it possible to end extreme poverty worldwide. Compared with last year, this percentage has decreased by 7 per cent. We have less faith in eliminating extreme poverty than we used to.
When we asked the same question to Ugandans, many of whom had lived experience of hunger, unclean drinking water, poor sanitation, limited access to education and other indicators of extreme poverty, 90 per cent believed extreme poverty could be eradicated.
The enormity of such poverty can mean our response is, “This is too big, and I’m not qualified to play any part in it.” In the Global South, I have seen faith the size of a mustard seed move mountains. When everything is stripped away, faith is the only resource many churches have. Out of that place of desperation, God has worked miracles, releasing people from the grip of devastating poverty, restoring a sense of worth and hope and building faith that He will do it again and again. Suddenly, an impossible goal seems believable.
As Jesus Himself said, children are faith experts. Recently, I met a young woman, born in a horrendous slum in Nairobi, Kenya, who just graduated as a teacher. She started that vocation when she was four years old. As a young child, she attended a project run by the church where she learned healthy eating and hygiene practices and how to read and write. Every evening a group of children in the slum would gather round her and she’d teach them what she’d learned that day. The church had faith in her potential and people spoke words of encouragement over her. She also believed change was possible and she’s seen that prove true in her own life and the lives of many around her.
Faith often begins with desperation, followed by trust and then the collective obedience of many people doing one small thing.
Unity
Bringing about cohesion in a divided community is a challenge that faces churches around the world, not just in the UK.
I’ve been in change leadership all my life. It takes years to bring real cultural change. In the most dynamic organisation, with significant investment, experts estimate a minimum of seven years. Yet, I saw change happen in a divided community in Ghana in one year, through dramatic obedience and prayer in the leadership of the church.
Christians, Muslims and non-religious people were living segregated lives, suspicious of one another. In this context, the church started a development centre to help children living in extreme poverty in the region. Despite working from a building with rain pouring in the ceiling and no office to manage paperwork, the programme would go on to unite this fragmented community. A year on, I saw the church filled with Muslim women singing songs about Jesus’ love alongside Christian neighbours.
A united community begins with two things: serving a common need and respecting differences. This church and many others I’ve seen who partner with Compassion live by the mantra, I will help you because you are my neighbour, even if you don’t see things my way.
Where we see fragmentation occurring in the UK, churches can be and often are the instigators of community cohesion, helping the broken and alienated, whatever their views. This isn’t achieved by watering down the gospel, far from it, but by recognising our common needs as fellow humans made in the image of God.
Sacrificial generosity
We all have time, talents and treasures which we can use to serve God’s kingdom.
Yet, I continue to be floored by the radical and sacrificial generosity that permeates the church in the Global South.
In Ghana, I met leaders of large, growing, vibrant congregations who are not paid a penny and work a second job to support their family, yet they commit time and resource to serving their communities and releasing children from poverty.
In Uganda, I met Gladys. When a new-born baby was found abandoned in a nearby storm drain, the authorities refused to help, but Gladys, with barely enough to feed her own family, stepped forward and wrapped that baby in blankets of love. With the support of the Compassion project at her local church, she made room in her home and heart, adopted her and named her Miracle. Her quiet courage and profound generosity impacted me deeply as I saw her live out Jesus’ call to “love your neighbour,” even when it cost her.
Giving freely requires a trust that God will provide. The early church embodied this spirit of radical generosity, sharing possessions and ensuring that no one was in need. As Paul wrote to the Philippians, such giving is “a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God. And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4v18,19).
The stories I’ve witnessed in the Global South are not just examples of what’s possible, they are evidence that poverty can be overcome. They remind us that faith when paired with action can move mountains; that generosity when rooted in love can restore dignity; and that unity when built on shared humanity can heal division.
We must not lose sight of this hope. Not because it’s easy, but because it’s true. The eradication of poverty is not a distant dream, it’s a divine possibility. And the church, in all its global diversity, is already showing us the way.
