The Feeding Of The Fifty
Stories
Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit
62 Stories For Cycle B
Nancy Baker's cooking had become something of a legend at Our Savior's Church. Whenever there was need for advice or action on a church dinner, Nancy's phone would ring, and she was nearly always happy to comply because she loved to plan and cook meals. In part, people's high regard for her expertise came from the fact that Nancy had taught Home Ecomonics at the local high school for thirty years. Equally important was their firsthand knowledge that her home-cooked meals were delicious. But the most likely reason Nancy was so often consulted was the miracle she had performed. Now, Nancy pooh-poohed the suggestion that there was any miracle involved, and her husband, Vince, jokingly referred to it as "The Feeding of the Fifty," but those who were present to assist did not take what she had done lightly. In their eyes, it had been a true miracle.
It had all come about because Our Savior's hosted an annual Leadership Training event for their denomination's area churches. A planning committee arranged for workshops in a variety of different leadership areas: trustees, parish boards, music, church school, finance and so on. Our Savior's provided meeting and worship space, music and snacks.
On the day of that most memorable of training events, the morning had dawned overcast and forbidding. Thunderstorms were forecast for the entire day. However, the church volunteers and workshop leaders arrived early and made their preparations. By 11:00 A.M., an hour and a half before showtime, the rain which had been falling all morning began to freeze. But salting and sanding trucks were out on the streets and highways, so the planning committee reasoned that, while the numbers of those in attendance might suffer, it was already too late to cancel the event.
Two hundred and fifty hearty souls had arrived at the church by 12:30, through an unseasonably late shower of heavy, wet snowflakes. The weather people on local radio and television stations were chuckling over this April snowshower, explaining that it was an Arctic blast that had veered much farther south than expected. Enjoy! they said. Christmas in April could be fun!
But, while the Leadership Training workshops kept their participants occupied, area businesses, schools and offices began to close. Snowplows made repeated passes along major thoroughfares, but the snow was relentless. Workshop participants who had come from a distance began to slip out a few at a time. By the 3:00 P.M. breaktime, several had returned saying it was no use - they couldn't get home in the raging storm conditions.
Pastor Erickson and the planning committee called the remaining 109 participants together in the sanctuary at 3:15.
"We have begun calling our nearby church members and constituents to find overnight accommodations for everyone who is stranded here," Pastor Erickson announced. "As soon as the phoning is completed, you can take turns contacting your families to let them know you are taken care of."
But the phoning netted only 56 available beds, couches, cots and rollaways within walking distance. When those people had been met and escorted away through the storm by their hosts, 53 stranded participants still remained.
"I can take four of you," Pastor Erickson announced, suggesting as diplomatically as possible that those with strong backs, muscles, and joints remain to sleep at the church, allowing four with more fragile constitutions to accompany him. The group graciously complied. But, as the telephone volunteers were being instructed on their next campaign for nearby blankets, pillows, sheets, and sleeping bags, someone brought up the problem of food.
"What will we feed those who are left here?"
City traffic was almost literally at a standstill. There were numerous cars abandoned as much off the streets as possible, most where they had become stuck or struck. Snowplows had been ordered back to the public works garages until there was a let-up in the storm, but still snow flew and blew with raging ferocity. The entire city had shut down, including any grocery stores or restaurants within walking distance. Two people whose car was stuck in a drift up the street had seen the lights on in the church and come in asking for shelter: 51 snowbound guests, four church volunteers, and no food.
"Have the phone volunteers ask for whatever food people can spare along with the bedding," Nancy Baker said sensibly. "God will provide."
And so, the nearby parishioners trudged out into the vicious storm one more time to deliver whatever they had to offer. And while the sparse volunteer crew helped their stranded guests find the most comfortable spots in the building for making up beds, or set tables for 56, Nancy Baker shut herself in the church kitchen with the hodgepodge of food offerings. There wasn't a lot to work with - mostly canned goods, a little hamburger and chicken, cheese, pasta, eggs and milk - but she began to rummage about the kitchen and work her magic.
The guests occupied themselves with get-acquainted conversations, and cards and board games from the youth room, after the eating and sleeping arrangements were completed. At 5:45 they were called to the tables by the clinking of a spoon on a glass by Nancy.
"Please, find a seat and let's pray before we eat," the pastor, who hadn't been able to make himself stay away, said as the group assembled and grew quiet. "Thank you, dear God, for the warmth and shelter of our church building, for the generosity of those who have provided food and bedding, and for the love and fellowship around these tables. Bless this food we are about to eat. In Jesus' name. Amen."
And then the kitchen doors opened, releasing wonderful aromas, and the four volunteers began carrying out bowls and platters and casserole dishes full of steaming, mouthwatering food. And everyone ate their fill, with plenty to spare.
The story of the quality and quantity of the food offered at that meal grew as it spread in the days and weeks following the storm. When the snowplows had done their work, and the shovelers and snowblowers had freed trapped vehicles, and everyone had returned home (after an equally amazing breakfast!), Nancy Baker was already on her way to being a legend in Our Savior's Church history.
"Such a lot of fuss!" Nancy told Vince. "All I did was use common sense and the food on hand." She chuckled, "I told them God would provide!"
It had all come about because Our Savior's hosted an annual Leadership Training event for their denomination's area churches. A planning committee arranged for workshops in a variety of different leadership areas: trustees, parish boards, music, church school, finance and so on. Our Savior's provided meeting and worship space, music and snacks.
On the day of that most memorable of training events, the morning had dawned overcast and forbidding. Thunderstorms were forecast for the entire day. However, the church volunteers and workshop leaders arrived early and made their preparations. By 11:00 A.M., an hour and a half before showtime, the rain which had been falling all morning began to freeze. But salting and sanding trucks were out on the streets and highways, so the planning committee reasoned that, while the numbers of those in attendance might suffer, it was already too late to cancel the event.
Two hundred and fifty hearty souls had arrived at the church by 12:30, through an unseasonably late shower of heavy, wet snowflakes. The weather people on local radio and television stations were chuckling over this April snowshower, explaining that it was an Arctic blast that had veered much farther south than expected. Enjoy! they said. Christmas in April could be fun!
But, while the Leadership Training workshops kept their participants occupied, area businesses, schools and offices began to close. Snowplows made repeated passes along major thoroughfares, but the snow was relentless. Workshop participants who had come from a distance began to slip out a few at a time. By the 3:00 P.M. breaktime, several had returned saying it was no use - they couldn't get home in the raging storm conditions.
Pastor Erickson and the planning committee called the remaining 109 participants together in the sanctuary at 3:15.
"We have begun calling our nearby church members and constituents to find overnight accommodations for everyone who is stranded here," Pastor Erickson announced. "As soon as the phoning is completed, you can take turns contacting your families to let them know you are taken care of."
But the phoning netted only 56 available beds, couches, cots and rollaways within walking distance. When those people had been met and escorted away through the storm by their hosts, 53 stranded participants still remained.
"I can take four of you," Pastor Erickson announced, suggesting as diplomatically as possible that those with strong backs, muscles, and joints remain to sleep at the church, allowing four with more fragile constitutions to accompany him. The group graciously complied. But, as the telephone volunteers were being instructed on their next campaign for nearby blankets, pillows, sheets, and sleeping bags, someone brought up the problem of food.
"What will we feed those who are left here?"
City traffic was almost literally at a standstill. There were numerous cars abandoned as much off the streets as possible, most where they had become stuck or struck. Snowplows had been ordered back to the public works garages until there was a let-up in the storm, but still snow flew and blew with raging ferocity. The entire city had shut down, including any grocery stores or restaurants within walking distance. Two people whose car was stuck in a drift up the street had seen the lights on in the church and come in asking for shelter: 51 snowbound guests, four church volunteers, and no food.
"Have the phone volunteers ask for whatever food people can spare along with the bedding," Nancy Baker said sensibly. "God will provide."
And so, the nearby parishioners trudged out into the vicious storm one more time to deliver whatever they had to offer. And while the sparse volunteer crew helped their stranded guests find the most comfortable spots in the building for making up beds, or set tables for 56, Nancy Baker shut herself in the church kitchen with the hodgepodge of food offerings. There wasn't a lot to work with - mostly canned goods, a little hamburger and chicken, cheese, pasta, eggs and milk - but she began to rummage about the kitchen and work her magic.
The guests occupied themselves with get-acquainted conversations, and cards and board games from the youth room, after the eating and sleeping arrangements were completed. At 5:45 they were called to the tables by the clinking of a spoon on a glass by Nancy.
"Please, find a seat and let's pray before we eat," the pastor, who hadn't been able to make himself stay away, said as the group assembled and grew quiet. "Thank you, dear God, for the warmth and shelter of our church building, for the generosity of those who have provided food and bedding, and for the love and fellowship around these tables. Bless this food we are about to eat. In Jesus' name. Amen."
And then the kitchen doors opened, releasing wonderful aromas, and the four volunteers began carrying out bowls and platters and casserole dishes full of steaming, mouthwatering food. And everyone ate their fill, with plenty to spare.
The story of the quality and quantity of the food offered at that meal grew as it spread in the days and weeks following the storm. When the snowplows had done their work, and the shovelers and snowblowers had freed trapped vehicles, and everyone had returned home (after an equally amazing breakfast!), Nancy Baker was already on her way to being a legend in Our Savior's Church history.
"Such a lot of fuss!" Nancy told Vince. "All I did was use common sense and the food on hand." She chuckled, "I told them God would provide!"
