The land of a rich man produced abundantly; a eulogy for USAID

The Rev. Kristin Hutson delivers her sermon on Luke 12:13-21. Photo: Gerald Farinas.

“Then He told them a parable,” the Gospel reading from Luke was proclaimed. “The land of a rich man produced abundantly…”

When the Rev. Kristin Hutson preached at Edgewater Presbyterian Church today, she beautifully tied the Word to the history of one of the most consequential programs of the U.S.

I watched the congregation gasp twice, though. First, when they realized she was talking about USAID. Second, when she explained that the current administration had shut it down.

Those gasps weren’t just surprise. They were grief. They told a story that most people don’t know.

USAID is the United States Agency for International Development. Most people only vaguely knew what it did.

And hearing its death announced like that, from the pulpit, no less, cut deep.

It wasn’t just a government agency. It was one of the most hopeful things our country ever built.

As Pastor Kristin noted, USAID started, oddly enough, with a problem. American farmers after World War II were producing too much food.

Thanks to new technology, better seeds, chemical fertilizers, powerful machines, farmers were succeeding themselves into crisis.

Prices dropped. Warehouses overflowed. The government was spending millions just storing excess grain. We were drowning in abundance.

So in 1954, President Eisenhower signed Public Law 480. Instead of letting food rot, we’d give it to countries in need.

At first, it was about moving surplus. But under President Kennedy, the program became something far more ambitious.

Kennedy called it “Food for Peace,” and by the end of 1961, he’d created USAID to bring together all the foreign aid programs under one roof.

From there, we built something beautiful.

Something that saved lives.

Something that made America a different kind of superpower, not just one with bombs and bases, but one with compassion and competence.

USAID gave us a way to show up for the world without showing force.

By the mid-1960s, the program wasn’t just dumping surplus grain. It was purposefully growing crops to feed hungry people across the globe.

Countries like Japan and South Korea, once food aid recipients, became customers of American agriculture.

Meanwhile, USAID was doing more than food. It was digging wells, stopping diseases, promoting democracy, rebuilding after disasters, and building local infrastructure.

In over 100 countries.

Every year.

Quietly.

Faithfully.

I remember learning about PEPFAR, the HIV/AIDS relief initiative started by President George W. Bush. That program, largely coordinated through USAID, saved over 25 million lives. I remember thinking, this is what we should be known for.

And now, it too, is under threat. While it is no longer in USAID hands, it may disappear in future attempts by Republicans.

When Trump returned to office this year, one of his first acts was freezing USAID’s entire budget. The shutdown wasn’t slow. It was swift, total, and deliberate.

By February, the lights were off. The website went dark. The staff were laid off. Over 5,800 grants were canceled. By July 1st, USAID was officially dissolved. From over 13,000 employees, only 718 were transferred to the State Department.

The budget?

Gone.

I can’t forget the image of that video released the day before on June 30. Two former presidents, George W. Bush and Barack Obama, speaking together in defense of USAID.

Bush reminded us of the lives saved. Obama called the shutdown “a colossal mistake.”

These were not men who often spoke out against successors. But this was different. This was moral.

The consequences came fast.

Food kitchens in Sudan shuttered.

HIV treatment programs around the world stopped.

American Christian organizations like World Vision, Catholic Relief Services, Samaritan’s Purse—all of them lost vital partnerships.

Even our own Presbyterian Church (USA) was forced to shut down its entire World Mission program. Fifty-four missionaries were laid off.

People will die because of this. Public health experts estimate 14 million additional deaths by 2030. Not because of some inevitable catastrophe, but because the United States chose to pull the plug.

It’s not just a tragedy.

It’s a betrayal.

USAID wasn’t perfect. No program is. But it stood for something rare: a vision of America that believed we could be both powerful and good.

That our surplus could heal.

That our wealth could lift.

That helping others could also help ourselves.

We’ve lost that.

And we’ve lost a major tool in competing with other world powers like China.

USAID wasn’t just humanitarian. It was strategic. It was our way of responding to the world without a gun in our hand.

Senator Roger Wicker was right. It was how we countered China’s Belt and Road Initiative. That too, we’ve given away.

I’m grieving today after Pastor Kristin’s eulogy of USAID

Not just for the people who’ll go hungry or untreated or uneducated because USAID is gone.

I’m grieving for the country I thought we were trying to be.

The America that gasped in church this morning, the one that still believes in feeding the hungry and healing the sick, that’s the America I love.

What started as a pile of grain with nowhere to go became one of the greatest stories of compassion and common sense our nation ever wrote.

And now, in its place, is silence.

Silence where there used to be wells.

Silence where there used to be clinics.

Silence where there used to be hope.

Pastor Kristin didn’t mean to turn the sanctuary into a space of mourning today. But in telling the truth, that’s what she did.

And maybe that’s exactly what Church is for.