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“Along the Way: Encouragers,” Rev. Melissa St. Clair, 3/22/15

“Along the Way: Encouragers”

A sermon preached at

Heart of the Rockies Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

Fort Collins, CO

by the Rev. Melissa St. Clair

March 22, 2015

The first time we went to the desert, the greatest abundance we experienced was of warning signs:

• Caution: Extreme Heat Danger
• Potential Flash Flood Area
• Avoid Overheating – Turn off A/C next 20 miles
• Warning: Rattlesnakes
• Use Caution: Near the edge, footing can be dangerous

If you stop and think about it, these adverse conditions aren’t necessary unique to the desert, and yet the vastness and remoteness of this extreme landscape can create some pretty hazardous scenarios pretty quickly.  I read just enough Reader’s Digest “Drama in Real Life” stories growing up to know that it can be a very fine line between everything being hunky dory and complete and total disaster.

It’s against this vast landscape and these present dangers that people gather to hear Jesus’ preaching and teaching.

READ MARK 8:1-9 

“A priest from Senegal once told the story of a trip back home after studying in America.  Tribal people are used to going with very little food and then holding a large feast after a successful hunt.  Compared with the Senegalese banquet, Americans do not eat a lot, the priest assured them, but they eat all the time.  They expect food to be provided the instant they notice they are hungry.”[1]

That’s a reality that the Senegalese people could not relate to; nor could the people who first followed Jesus.  It goes without saying that there wouldn’t have been a Big Mac and a 32-ounce Coke available at a drive-thru for the crowds to jam up on their way back home.

Jesus sees the need and he provides, despite the disciples’ protests.

Maybe they were concerned that there wouldn’t be enough for them if they shared with others.  Maybe that thought it was the people in crowd’s own fault – they should’ve planned or rationed better.  Maybe they were just ready to pack it in after several long days and didn’t want to take the time to deal with the crowds any longer.

Whatever their reasoning, Jesus has a different plan in mind.  It’s called compassion.  More literally, splanchnizomai – that’s the Greek word that’s used here that means “his inward parts were moved.” I guess that can happen even when you don’t have access to Big Macs.  In other words, Jesus related with the crowds on a gut level – literally and metaphorically speaking.

He related to the crowds, and he took that critical next step – he did something about it.  Jesus fed the crowds from what seemed like scarcity to everyone else.  But Jesus saw it as abundance – and it was.  Seven baskets left over after all 4000 had been fed. He gave them bread for the journey.

If we look back over our lives, I’m guessing (and hoping!) each one of us has people who provided bread for us on the journey.  I’m not just thinking of physical nourishment, although that, of course, is vitally important, as Jesus recognized.  But what I’m getting at is spiritual and emotional nourishment.

Along the Way we’ve had people who have cheered us on, lent us support, given us advice – in a word, ENCOURAGED us.

Encouragement comes from the intersection of two places Jesus’ frequented –compassion and abundance.

He knew each of us by name – all 52 of us.  We were bigger than the football team, the 1997 girls’ cross country team at Chambersburg Area Senior High School was.  Coach Cook had a reputation for not only producing winning teams.  He built winning character.

There were countless testimonies given after Mr. and Mrs. Cook’s death in a head-on interstate collision caused by a drunk driver.  One of the most common was how he made each athlete feel valued and important.  Whether you were the team’s number 1 runner or number 51 runner, Mr. Cook took the time to check in with you – at practice, on race day.  And he wasn’t just interested in your running.  It was clear that he cared about you as a person, not just as a point on the meet score.

There were the inspiring quotes he would share – “Pain is temporary, pride is forever” – and the extensive “scouting reports” he’d compile the day before a race.  But more important than those words were the ones he’d share after the meet.  Making his rounds on the two-hour bus ride home, he’d take time to talk with anyone who wanted to – seeking words of affirmation or advice for next time.  In a word, offering ENCOURAGEMENT.

I never would’ve done track and field if it hadn’t been for Mr. Cook’s coaching of cross country.  Before my last track and field race in high school, the state meet as a member of our 4×800 relay, I got a phone call from my uncle.  He was calling to wish me good luck and tell me to have fun.  He went on to tell me how much he admired my running – that I trained so hard despite a congenital heart defect, something that I honestly hadn’t given much thought to.  I just ran because all my friends did, not because I’d ever stopped to acknowledge and give thanks that I was healthy enough to do it.  When I hung up the phone, I started crying.  My uncle was getting to the point where he could hardly walk, let alone run.  Lou Gehrig’s disease was slowly taking that ability away from him, and yet he still saw life as full of possibility and fundamentally good – and he took the time to make sure how amazing he thought I was.  Encouragement.

Then there was Elva, my confirmation mentor.  Jeff, my pastor.  Cheri, my Sunday school teacher.  Matt and Karen, Tim and Jenny, Heather and Buck, my youth group leaders.  My mom and dad, who hauled me to church every weekend.

Carol, the first female pastor I ever met.  Kim and Bob and Gary and Susan and Belva and David and Don, my Bethany Fellows mentors.  These are the cheerleaders, the encouragers of my faith.  These are the ones who have offered themselves to me out of a sense of abundance and compassion and love.  Some of them are no longer living.  Others I’ve lost track of and haven’t had contact with in many years.  Doesn’t matter.  Their encouragement at some point in my life made a difference.  It was bread for my journey.

I think of Pat and Kate.  Childhood friends who supported and encouraged one another during their growing up years, which were none too easy.  They reconnected about a year ago when Pat sent Kate a picture from their childhood.  After being out of touch for decades, Pat saw Kate’s address on their high school reunion registry, and she decided to drop her old friend a note.  When they finally got in touch, Kate invited Pat to come to church with her.  Pat did.  And now both of these remarkable women grace our worship, our Bible studies, our fellowship, our service in the community.  Not only do they still encourage one another all these years later – they encourage me.  They encourage me in their care and love for one another as friends.  They encourage me in their eagerness and courage in coming to faith with bold questions and open spirits.  They encourage me when they are vulnerable in sharing their own life stories.  They encourage me when they show up faithfully to participate in the life of our congregation, starting by knowing virtually no one.  They have been bread for one another’s journeys and they are bread for mine.

Jesus feeding the 4000 comes after the more well-known story of Jesus feeding the 5000, which happens to be the only miracle we find in all four gospels.  It’s not clear whether this feeding was actually a separate event or if Mark just chose to include a variation on the original story.  I’m not sure that it really matters.

What is clear is how important it was to Jesus that all be fed.  That sharing a meal together had power that went beyond physical nourishment.  That all who hunger are welcome.  That in the fellowship of Jesus and one another, we find bread for the journey.

[1] From The New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. VIII, 615.