He began ministering to the down-and-out in 1978 out of a two-room space on Smith Street with a pot of hot coffee and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

"You can’t pray on an empty stomach," the late Rev. Claude Du Teil, founder of the Institute for Human Services, used to say.

Du Teil’s "peanut butter ministry," as it was dubbed by the late Star-Bulletin religion writer Nadine Scott, came from his vision coupled with love, compassion and empathy.

"I don’t know of anything that would have pleased him as much as that IHS is still here 35 years later with the same love and care with which it was founded," said Du Teil’s 91-year-old widow, Roberta "Bert" Du Teil, who flew in from Texas to celebrate the anniversary.

Joining her were 29 family members from Texas and Colorado and a few hundred volunteers, staff members and friends. The Founder’s Day luncheon at the Kaaahi Service Center on Saturday followed a morning of painting, cleaning and repairs to the service centers.

"He was very good at seeing the direction things were going," she said. "Almost everything they’re doing now, we did in a smaller way."

Du Teil enlisted volunteers, many of whom were skilled, including doctors, psychologists, even the retired head of the welfare agency, and drew in many moneyed donors who took his lively short courses on Christianity.

Du Teil’s legacy lives on in the agency, which was expanded to include three service centers. And it lives on in those he inspired.

That includes one grandson, who is following his footsteps in becoming a minister, and another who grew and sold pumpkins and ran 5-kilometer runs, donating all the money to IHS.

IHS Executive Director Connie Mitchell was a 24-year-old recent college graduate in 1980 when she first heard Du Teil speak at Kaimuki Evangelical Church.

"He was a very inspiring man and really just challenged people to care and be willing to see people who were homeless," she said, adding that at that time, "People just walked past the homeless and not do anything at all."

She was involved in ministries with the church, including feeding the homeless at IHS, but moved on, pursuing her career as a psychiatric advanced practice registered nurse.

Seven years ago, as she was leaving her position as director of nursing at Hawaii State Hospital, the IHS position opened up.

At the helm, she has been able to help expand IHS’ reach. While it still provides emergency services, it also helps the homeless heal from physical and mental disabilities, aids those with substance abuse to get cleaned up and provides a safe place to heal from trauma, Mitchell said. It also helps in the areas of training, housing and employment services.

Although Du Teil’s ministry got a faith-based start, and expanded to embrace 30 churches of all denominations, IHS was incorporated as a community-based organization.

"We’re not wedded to any faith tradition," Mitchell said. "Father Du Teil was inspired by his own faith, but he certainly didn’t work within the confines of the church."

IHS receives federal, state and city funding, and donations from the community to fund eight core programs. They include an emergency food program, serving 730 meals a day and providing monthly food drops to supplement the pantries of those in need; providing case managers who work with the mentally ill, substance abusers, families and veterans; health servicing and triage to connect people with resources like health insurance; and helping children (on average 50 stay at IHS’ women and family facility.)

Patrice Tautua, an IHS operations staff member who works with people to get housing and build savings, can relate to those she helps.

She was drug- and alcohol-addicted, and lived on the streets of Chinatown off and on for 10 years.

The 50-year-old said she finally got help from IHS.

"My whole life turned around," she said. "I got a job, a car and married. I’m able to help hundreds just by being clean and sober."

IHS Women and Family Shelter manager Bridgette Kahanaoi, 44, a former drug addict and a recovering alcoholic, lost her three children, ranging from 7 to 13 years, when she went to jail in 1998 for drugs, she said.

While in prison she saw the light, went into a treatment center, got into a clean and sober house and began a rapid road to recovery. A former high school dropout, she is now pursuing a master’s degree.

"I had too much pride to live in a shelter," she said. "I lived in the back of a truck. I had no idea what it’s like to live in a shelter."

Now she helps families, 33 at a time.

"They don’t have to do it the hard way," she said. IHS even helps those who need help with paying the utilities or medical bills, "so you don’t become homeless."

Part of the mission is to support families, with bunks and lockers for everyone.

"We try to make it as safe as possible," she said. "We got kids here. Zero tolerance for violence and substance abuse."

Bert Du Teil recalled how her husband was at first unpopular with downtown merchants, already upset with the homeless eating out of trash cans. But then-Mayor Frank Fasi came around when he learned 30 churches of all denominations were helping out, she said.

Du Teil consistently turned down any government funding, she recalled.

Instead, she said, he told government officials, "If you want to help me, build us a low-income housing for these people. They don’t have anyplace to go."

Eventually, a committee of five accepted federal funding for the Sumner Street building, and rented it back to IHS for a dollar, she said.

Du Teil, educated as a civil engineer, went through the seminary and was ordained as a priest in 1949.

He initially wanted to go to China, but foreigners were being sent out of China at that time, Bert Du Teil said. So the couple ended up in Hawaii.

Du Teil began working with the homeless in downtown Honolulu with the Salvation Army.

Bert Du Teil said a "big brouhaha" developed after the homeless began squatting in vacant buildings on Fort Street, and Fasi tried to get them out.

"He finally convinced Fasi, ‘You have to give them some kind of alternatives,’" and Du Teil finally got the homeless out.

"Claude never lent money to anybody," Bert Du Teil said.

That is to say, he never expected to get it back.

She recalled how her husband paid for one young man’s $10-a-day stay at a hostel for a month and a half. When he returned with an envelope of money, he told Du Teil he wasn’t paying it back, but doing it just in case he needed a place to stay again.

Du Teil would put up people at the old Blaisdell Hotel, and even "brought home a few women," but it didn’t bother her since they were "usually elderly," she added with a laugh.

Du Teil’s son, Bob, said of IHS today: "I am really excited about the direction it’s taken, and the involvement it has. When my dad started it, it was basically a one-man shop. He didn’t offer programs. A lot of the things they offer here, he got people in the community to help out."

He added, "What I like about IHS is community involvement. Their mission is not to help the homeless. Their mission is to serve and be there and help people just be people."