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Recalling a Mentor: Ron Carroll, part 2

A couple of weeks ago, I posted the first of memoir of one of my mentors. Click here for that post. Here is the second part. 

Staff Retreats 

Ron Carroll and Rhone Sasser
Ron and Council President Rhone Sasser who was President of United Carolina Bank at this time. I no longer have the original photo, this was copied from an annual report.

Ron taught those of us on staff to make the best of any situation. We were a small staff; there were only five of us. Twice a year, Ron pulled us away for a three-day retreat. We spent the time planning and training. We worked hard. But Ron was never one to let hard work get in the way of a good time.

Many of these retreats were held in beach houses owned by a council board member. Several were on Wrightsville Beach, others on Brunswick County beaches. In addition to planning, training, and setting goals, we’d fish and take turns preparing fancy seafood dinners. If the water was warm, we’d swim. There was one fall retreat, after working all day and a big dinner, we played football in the surf as the sun set. It probably wasn’t the brightest thing as the sharks often move closer to shore to feed at dusk, but no one was harmed. 

One fall morning we meet at a beach house on Wrightsville Beach. Ron unlocked the door. We began to barge in with boxes of food, a couple of cases of beer, bottles of booze, bags of chips, along with flip charts and calendars and other assorted accruements. We were all shocked as a barely dressed woman stepped out of the bathroom. She squealed and ducked back in. Then, in the commotion, a young man appeared from the bedroom as the coed returned from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her. “Who are you?” She asked. Ron told her he arranged with so and so to use the house for a few days. This turned out to be the girl’s father. 

Embarrassed and concerned her daddy might learn she’d taken a premature break from college in order to entertain her boyfriend, she asked for a few minutes to pack. Ron was polite and said we were all in need for some breakfast and that when we return, we’ll have forgotten what we’d seen. We left. An hour later we returned; the woman and her illicit boyfriend were gone. I’m sure when Ron dropped a thank you note to her Daddy, he omitted that it had been our pleasure to meet his daughter.

Ron’s Organizational Skills

Ron had a temper and never liked it when things didn’t go the way he’d plan. In one staff meeting, where he learned several assignments had been dropped, Ron started cussing and fussing and marched us into his office.

Ron’s desk was always immaculate. He started lecturing on how to organize our mail so that everything got done. He had a three-bin file on the edge of his desk. His goal was to never handle a piece of paper more than twice, he said. When he opened his mail, if it could be handled immediately, he did so. If it was of top importance and wouldn’t take much time, it went into this top bin. Second bin was for things that weren’t critical, and the bottom one was for things he wanted to look at but was not so important that the world would end if he didn’t get around to it. In his rant, Ron picked up the stack of papers in his top bin.

On the bottom of this stack was a Hustler magazine. We all started to smirk. Ron’s face became redder and redder as we all broke out into laughter. Finally, before Ron blew a gasket, someone pointed to the magazine. Ron turned over the pile. Then he laughed. His lecture came to an end with some mumbling about priorities.

Ron and Marketing

Ron should have been on Madison Avenue. Not only was he a good salesman, but he was also a master marketer. Even when we were doing things like raising money to pay off debt, Ron could come up with positive campaign slogans and materials that turned what many would have considered drudgery into an opportunity to celebrate. I don’t remember all the names, but one desk, I still have a “Catch the Scouting Spirit” mug holding pencils. In a shelf at work, there’s a “Total Development Campaign” apothecary jar holding toothpicks. 

Ron insisted that when an event was over, it didn’t matter how good it turned out. What mattered was how people thought it went. If it was the greatest event in the world and only those who were there knew about it, it was a flop. Then next time we’d have to work just as hard. However, even if the event was mediocre, but everyone thought it was great, then it was a success. The next time such an event would be even easier to promote. Ron encouraged us to learn the stories from scouts and leaders and to tell them in order to promote the program. 

Knowing I was interested in photography, Ron encouraged me to shoot photos whenever possible. With the scouting program financing my film and developing chemicals, I photographed everything. As I was working in rural areas with smaller newspapers, I often had full page spreads of my photographs showing scouts in action. Photos ended up in the council annual report and on camp posters. I was shocked when visiting Ron years later, just before his death, to see the posters framed and hanging in his home. Although at the time my writing was limited to an occasional press release, I’m sure Ron’s insistence on telling stories influenced my writing more than I could have imagined.

Ron and Perception (another part of Marketing)

Perception was also important in how we did our jobs. Ron taught us that you always left your business card and even encouraged us to stop by places in which we knew someone wouldn’t be home or in the office. Leaving a business card was almost as good as making a face-to-face visit. It didn’t take as much time and it left the perception that we were hard at work (in truth, when you have hundreds of volunteers, such time saving techniques were necessary to help everyone feel connected and cared for. He told stories about dropping off his business cards in mailboxes in the middle of the night. I never did that, but I wouldn’t put it past Ron.

In addition to dropping off business cards, Ron was always writing notes to people—both to volunteers as well as his professional staff. Whenever we did something well, he’d write us a note and encourage us to do likewise. To this day, I always care a few note cards in my folder, a habit I learned from Ron.

Building Camp Bowers

One of Ron’s great achievements as the Scout Executive for the Cape Fear Council was creating Camp Bowers in Northwest Bladen County. The council had not had a camp since a few years after my scouting days when they had sold Camp Tom Upchurch. While they had property, nothing had been done toward building a camp. Ron set out to change this. He charged ahead. 

I remember one of my first staff meetings where I learned the importance of fund raising, if we wanted to be paid. We all worked hard and soon were not only raising enough to meet the budget but also paid off the debt which had been accumulating on camp construction through the “Total Development Campaign.” While the camp wasn’t quite finished, we dedicated the camp in May 1981. Hank Aaron, who had recently retired from baseball (and an Eagle Scout) gave the keynote address. A month later, we began the first summer of camp. 

The fire at Camp Bowers

A year later, we held another council camporee at the camp. Troops from all over Southeastern North Carolina gathered. We had around 1000 boys on the site. It was dry and windy spring day, and things were going well. Around lunch, people began to comment about the smoke in the air. It was checked out a learned that a few miles away, someone was burning a large brush pile from where there a track of land had been clearcut. Shortly after lunch, the winds picked up. We received word the controlled burn was no longer in control. A raging fire headed straight toward the camp. 

The word went out to evacuate. Since the camp was a couple miles from a paved road, with only one way in or out, it was important to be on the safe side. After everyone had been safely evacuated, the staff all stayed behind.

Ron went into town to get more water hoses so we could have hoses available at all the buildings. He came back, not only with water hoses, but with a cooler of beer and snacks. That night, the humidity rose, the wind died, and the fire laid down, burning in a bay (swamp) at the edge of camp, not too far from the camp office. We were told to watch the fire and to let the forest service know if it started to come out of the swamp. Ron got the bright idea to haul lawn chairs and the cooler up to the roof of the camp office. We took turns napping and watching the fire, while enjoying cold beer and chips. 

The next morning, the wind picked up and the humidity dropped. We worked liked crazy putting out spot fires and watering down buildings. The North Carolina forest service brought in the big guns. Several large helicopters were based on the lake, picking up water and dropping it a few hundred feet away. A waterbomber made a couple of passes, as bulldozers trenched around buildings. While the first didn’t destroy any buildings, the burned areas were on the camp boundaries were evident even as summer camp began that summer.

Ron’s Single Life

Cape Fear Council Boy Scouts of America Staff 1983
Pam is behind Ms. Lillian, the woman with the pink dress.

Toward the end of my time with the Cape Fear Council, Ron and his first wife divorced. We’d often hold staff meetings on Friday afternoons and those of us available would go out on the town during the evening. Often, I stayed with Ron overnight in the condo he rented on Wrightsville Beach. On one occasion, I had been down to the council office mid-week. Ron suggested we go out. We did and I spent the night with him. The next morning, I had a 7 AM breakfast meeting with the Chairman of the Board of United Carolina Bank (for whom Camp Bowers had been named). That morning, it was foggy. I wondered what’d I’d gotten myself into as I drove back just in time to make the meeting. 

A few months after I left for the Piedmont Council, Ron became the Scout Executive in Orlando Florida. Not long after that, Ron returned to Wilmington to marry Pam, who had been his secratary. It was a delightful wedding and they remained together until Ron’s death in 2005. 

Addendum 1 (added two days later):

Parker, a who was also a part of the staff at Cape Fear Council in the early 1980s and can barely be seen in the back of the photo, emailed me about this post. He told of another skill Ron taught. Always set up for a meeting enough tables and chairs for 90% of the expected guests. This way, if more came, it looked even more successful as you pulled out extra chairs. If there were those who couldn’t make it, you didn’t have a lot of empty chairs sitting around. Parker spoke about how he, in his career working for Chambers of Commerce, adhered to this practice.

For some reason, I didn’t associate this practice with Ron, but it was also another thing I learned from working with the scouts.  Over the years I have fought the battle with administrators, sextons, and volunteers to set up less chairs than expected. It takes a while for them to see the reason, but eventually they do.

Addendum 2 (added two days later)

In my previous post, I told about being with Ron a few months before his death. At the time, Ron and Pam asked me if I was willing to officiate at this funeral. I was. Sadly, when Ron died, they wanted to do the funeral on a particular day in Wilmington, NC. I had already committed to officiate at a wedding the next day on the West Coast and needed to be there for the rehearsal. I wasn’t able to officiate at the funeral.

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Open Our Eyes

Title slide with photos of the two churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
August 18, 2024
Mark 8:22-25

At the beginning of worship: 

How do you see the world? Are you an optimist who sees this glass as half full?  Or are you a pessimistic who sees it as half empty? 

As Christians, we should see the world differently. We have hope. Sadly, there is much in our world to fear. And if someone can make us afraid, we’ll often do things we’d never do in a rational world. This is the foundation of our consumer society and of most political campaigns. We do things or support candidates because we think they’re the answer to our problems. 

This even true in the church. From some pulpits, you’ll hear more about the problems of society and how the cultural war is out to destroy the church that the teachings of Jesus.[1] It’s a call to fight back. But those of us who follow Jesus know he has our back. The Jesus we know from Scripture doesn’t issue such calls.  

Using fear to motivate misses the good news of the gospel. One of the most heard passages in scripture is “Fear not!” We shouldn’t fear for we know where our treasure resides. We shouldn’t fear because we know who is in charge. We shouldn’t fear for we know how the story will end!

Jesus proclaimed the gates of hell won’t prevail against his church.[2] Jesus is the one who protects his church, not us. Now that doesn’t mean we can do what we want, but it does mean our loyalty is to him and we need to keep our focus not on the world but on him. The world, we’re told, is going to always have problems until it is brought into full redemption. Wars and rumors of wars, Jesus says.[3] We know how the story ends. The ending provides the foundation for our hope. 

We need new eyes, hopeful eyes. And Jesus has the power to restore our sight in such a manner, as we’ll see this morning. 

Before reading the Scriptures:

Last Sunday, if you remember, Jesus was a bit upset with the disciples. “Do you have eyes and fail to see?” He asked. They were all concerned with not having lunch as they sailed, once again, on the lake. We can imagine them almost pointing fingers at one another, blaming others for their lack of bread. And when Jesus began to talk metaphorically about yeast, they assumed it had to do with their argument about the lack of bread. Because you need yeast to make bread, they put the two together.

Today, we’ll see that following this discussion about their “blindness,” a blind man’s sight is restored. This is not a haphazard healing. Jesus makes a deeper point than just healing a man. He shows that he is the one who can, as the old hymn goes, “open our eyes, that we might see.”[4]

Our story today has a parallel healing which we’ve already explored. In the 7th Chapter, Jesus heals a man who was deaf and dumb, giving him back his hearing and his speech.[5] There are many similarities between these two passages. First, these are the only two miracles we find only in Mark and not in Matthew and/or Luke. Another similarity are the phrases used. The suffering man is “brought” to Jesus. His friends “beg” Jesus to lay on his hands or touch him. He takes both men away from the crowds to a private place. 

This passage ends the first half of Mark’s gospel. We’ve seen how Jesus is God with power over evil and the forces of nature, along with the ability to heal, raise the dead, and cast out demons. We also see that Jesus is the Messiah, the one who does things like feeding the hungry, giving sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf. Next week, we’ll see the disciples begin to understand Jesus. As they do, Jesus sets his face toward Jerusalem where he will go to die and to be raised on the third day. 

Read Mark 8:22-25

We’ve last seen Jesus and the disciples in a boat, sailing across the Sea of Galilee. In today’s story, we’ve learned they have sailed to the north end of the Sea, at the point the Jordan River enters the top of the sea, at Bethsaida. There, a blind man is brought to Jesus. His friends beg Jesus to touch the man, obviously seeking his healing. 

Let me point out one thing here. If we are not in need of having our vision corrected by Jesus, we should be the friends of the blindman. We can’t save anyone, but we can bring those in need of salvation to Jesus Christ, as the friends of his man did. 


Now, for some reason, Jesus decides to heal in private. He leads the man outside the village. As it was with the healing of the deaf man, Jesus uses salvia on his eyes, before touching them. When he removes his hands, he asks the man if he can see. 

The man gives what I can a most interesting response. “I see people like walking trees.” Obviously, this man wasn’t born blind, if he could differentiate between trees and people. But he still isn’t seeing clearly. 

Jesus then lays his hands again on the man, then asking again if he can see. How he sees perfectly.  Jesus sends him away, telling him to go home and not through the village. Jesus obviously doesn’t want the word to get out that he’s in town. 

There are a few unique things about this miracle which may help us better interpret the passage. First, nothing gets said about the man’s faith. The woman who reached out in faith to touch Jesus’ garment in to be healed is told by our Savior, “Woman, your faith has made you well.”[6] When he heals the Syrophoenician’s daughter, it was because of the mother’s faith.[7] But with this man, we’re told nothing about of his faith. He’s just a man in need and Jesus heals him. 

Second, this is the only miracle in which Jesus heals in stages. Other healings occur in an instant. But not here. It’s almost as if Jesus was an optometrist. You know, you’re looking into the machine. The eye doctor asks, “How’s that?” And from your answer, the doctor manipulates the lens on the machine a bit and asks again. In the optometrist’s office, this exchange continues until the doctor gets the prescription for the glasses just right. 

A lot has been made as to why Jesus didn’t get it right the first time. Maybe Jesus shows we’ll gradually gain sight. Our eyes, when it comes to faith, increasingly open. None of us are like Paul with a Damascus Road experience. Outside of a very few, like Paul and Moses, that’s not how God works even in scripture. As we come to faith, our eyes gradually open more and more to what God is doing in our lives and in our world. 

Cover of "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek"

When I set out to complete the Appalachian Trail, hiking from Virginia to Maine in one summer, I carried one book for each section of the trail. The first book was Annie Dillard’s, Pilgrim at Tinkers Creek. It was the perfect book, as Dillard writes about discovering nature by looking, not at the larger vistas, but at the small things. Insects, bugs, frogs, things often overlooked. Dillard showed their amazing lives and how they fit into the larger world. When I’d break by a stream or a spring, I’d be on the lookout to the wonders Dillard described.

As a follower of Jesus, we need that same kind of wonder. When we look at a problem in society, we shouldn’t just complain and shake our heads. We should look for those who survive despite the difficulties, those who help others, those who show the light of Christ. As Mr. Rogers said when discussing disasters such as 911, look for the heroes, those who run toward the danger to help others. Those are the ones who have faith and who demonstrate a Christ-like obedience. 

And if we truly believe, when we see a problem in which we can help, we should jump forward. For we know that whatever happens to us, God is in control. While the present may look bleak, the future will be bright. Our eyes will be fully open, and we will see God, face to face. 

So next time you look at a glass like this, consider it half full. Have faith, for in the end, things will work out. 

We’re called to follow Jesus. As followers, we’re not to get too down about the things of the world. Instead, we’re to store up our treasure in heaven.[8] After all, we are only temporary citizens of this world. Our kingdom is of another world, an eternal one. And that should give us hope. Amen. 

Commentaries Consulted:

Edwards, James R. The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002). 

Hare, Douglas R. A., Westminster Bible Companion:      Mark (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1996).

Hooker, Morna D. The Gospel According to Saint Mark (1991, Hendrickson Publishing, 1997). 

Lane, William L., The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 1972). 

[1] I was reminded of this recently while reading Tim Alberta, The Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory: American Evangelicals in an Age of Extremism ((Harper, 2024).  See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/08/15/two-book-reviews/

[2] Matthew 16:18. Many translations, including the NRSV and NIV, use hades instead of hell. Most paraphrase translations including the Message and the New Living Bible use hell.  

[3] Matthew 24:6, Mark 13:7

[4] This popular hymn is found in over 200 hymnals. Clara H. Scott (1841-1897) wrote the lyrics and the music for “Open My Eyes” 

[5] Mark 7:31-37.  See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/07/28/open-our-ears-that-we-might-hear/

[6] Mark 5:25-34. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/06/09/7247/

[7] Mark 7:24-30. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/07/21/crumbs-for-the-dogs/

[8] Matthew 6:20.

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Two Book Reviews

Cover shot of both books

Tim Alberta, The Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory: American Evangelicals in an Age of Extremism 

Book cover

(New York: Harper, 2023), 493 pages including index and notes. No photos. 

Tim Alberta is a journalist and the son of a preacher. His father grew his congregation in southeast Michigan to a megachurch status. Having spent his formative years in this church, Alberta had always appreciated coming home and visiting. But during his father’s funeral, in which he spoke, he realized the church was in trouble. Many of the leaders and members disliked his reporting on the American political scene. He was attacked while at the funeral. He wondered what had happened to the people he had known and loved and who had nurtured him.

Those who attacked Alberta after his father’s funeral were the same people who questioned Bill Clinton’s suitability for the Presidency. Yet, they ignore or overlook the obvious and blatant sinfulness of Donald Trump. Alberta wonders what happened to them and the church. Both seem to have abandoned the teachings of Jesus for the political rhetoric of the nation.  Alberta set out to explore American evangelical Christianity. Much of what he found was troubling. 

In this book, Alberta visits numerous churches, along with colleges and conferences, around the country. He starts with Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia. When possible, he speaks to the pastors and leaders of movements along with those involved or formerly involved. He attends churches who messages are mostly political, who flaunt COVID guidelines, glorify guns, and speak of owning the libs. He questions what happened to Jesus’ teachings about loving one’s enemies. 

Alberta also visits with those who found themselves pushed out of churches because of their loyalty to Christ alone. These include Russell Moore, who had been one of the leaders of the Southern Baptist Convention, along with the new pastor at his father’s former church. He discusses the “hidden” evangelical issues around sexual abuse, introducing his readers to Beth Moore and Rachel Denhollander. He even looked at how other countries are drawn toward totalitarian dictators, drawing on the work of Miroslav Volf and Cyril Hovorun. Maybe it shouldn’t be surprising that the church is under attack, not just in America, but around the world. 

Alberta doesn’t provide easy answers for how the church can stop being enamored with political idols. Perhaps this is best. The church, as he points out, isn’t in our hands. We belong to Christ’s church, and he controls it, not us. The only hope found in this book was in Alberta’s description of a few churches, such as the one his father had served, which had once been a megachurch. After losing significant members to other churches on the political right, they have found a stronger and more vibrant ministry even with fewer people. 

I would make one minor correction. Alberta speaks of the Evangelical Presbyterian Church being further to the right, theologically and otherwise, to the Presbyterian Church in America (page 438). I disagree. The PCA doesn’t even have an option for women leadership, compared to the EPC which does allow women to be in ordinated positions.  

This is a long book, but I recommend it for understanding how today’s church is caught up in the political sphere. It may be considered a companion to Katherine Stewart’s The Power Worshippers: Inside the Dangerous Rise of Religious Nationalism.  May we remember that the church doesn’t exist to serve political causes. We serve Christ, who is the King of King. 

Tim Kaine, Walk, Ride, Paddle: A Life Outside 

(Harper Horizon, 2024), 367 pages plus an insert of color photos.

Having recently turned 60 years old, Tim Kaine, a Senator from Virginia, who ran as the Vice-Presidential candidate with Hillary Clinton in 2016, set out to explore his adopted Virginia from the ground. 2019 also marked his 25th year in public service. He had served as the mayor of Richmond, as lieutenant governor and governor of the state, as well as a United States Senator. His goal was to hike the Appalachian Trail in the state, ride a bicycle along the state’s portion of the Blue Ridge Parkway along with the Skyland Drive, and paddle a canoe the length of the James River, which runs across the middle of the state. 

Walking

While the Senate was in recess in 2019, Kaine spent his free time hiking the 559 miles of the Appalachian Trail in the state. Beginning in Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia, he heads south to the North Carolina border, just south of Damascus, Virginia. A quarter of the “AT” is in Virginia, a state which has more miles than any other.  Having hiked this trail from the other direction, I found myself reliving my own experiences.  Many of the shelters were familiar as were places like Woods Hole Hostel, which I stayed at before it was even open. The owners who had purchased the farm shared with me their dream of having a hostel along the trail. Like him, I also had some less than fond memories such as the thick growth of poison ivy along the trail south of I-77. 

I also realized the differences between his hike in 2019 and my hikes in the mid-1980s. There are far more people hiking the trail these days and more hostels. Furthermore, there is a whole network of people willing to pick up hikers. When I hiked the trail, if you needed to get somewhere, you hitchhiked.

Kaine hikes the trail with a variety of people. There are friends from Richmond, classmates, along with his wife and kids, who join him for sections of the trail. As he walked south, we learn about Kaine’s life and his great love for the outdoors. Kaine is from Kansas City and fell in love with camping as a child in the Midwest. He jokes that while he never edited the Harvard Law Review as a student, he set the record for the most nights outdoors.

While at Harvard, he met his wife, Anne. Interestingly, she spent part of her years growing up in the Governor’s mansion. Her father was the first Republican governor of Virginia since Reconstruction. He was also the governor who stopped Virginia’s fight against school integration, a decision which ended his political career. With family roots in Roanoke, Anne shared her love of the Virginia Mountains with Kaine.  

Throughout the book, the reader catches a glimpse of Kaine’s faith. He often sings hymns, recalls portion of scripture, and has an abiding faith in Jesus Christ.  In addition, the book allows him to share what is happening politically in the nation, as the times he must run back to D.C., to take care of business. 

As I have always said, backpacking is a great equalizer of people.  It doesn’t matter how much money is in the bank when you are hiking. There’s no place to spend it. The reader learns how Kaine, as a senator, had to struggle to find water or to stay dry, issues all hikers endure. 

Bicycling

The second portion of Kaine’s odyssey involves riding the Blue Ridge Parkway and Skyland Drive on a bicycle. Here, in 2020, he joins several of his college and law school classmates for the ride. A few years earlier, another of the group had hosted them for a ride across Iowa. The group hires a guide who drives a van with a trailer. And they stay in hotels and lodges along with the way, with their guide setting up their lunch at overlooks on the road. They enjoy good breakfasts (as opposed to the oatmeal along the AT) and nice dinners. This is the quickest section of the three-prong journey and is completed in seven days.

2020 is also the first year with COVID. Kaine spends much time discussing the problems with the disease (he and his wife both suffer from it and later, he finds himself dealing with long-COVID).  In addition, he discusses the problems in the nation with the rioting after the unprovoked killings of African Americans. 

Paddling

In 2021, after the turmoil of the election and the attack on the capitol, Kaine sets out on his last leg, paddling the length of the James, from the edge of the mountains to where it flows into the Chesapeake Bay. Like his AT hike, this is portion of the trail is done in sections. Kaine mostly camps in state parks along the river, or stays in hotels and B&Bs, while paddling a section each day.  His canoe is an Old Town, which his in-laws hand given him and his wife shortly after they married. 

As he travels, the reader learns the history of the river and about Kaine’s work as governor with many river projects that enhanced the waterway. The upper parts including portaging around dams and running rapids. Drawing on Earl Swift’s, Journey on the James, which describes his paddle in the 1990s, we see how the river has both been cleaned over the past quarter century. Cities and towns have transformed the river from an industrial wasteland to a pleasant park and riverwalks. The most difficult rapids are at the fall line in Richmond. This section, Kaine runs in a raft.  After Richmond, the river widens. Kaine continued paddling the Old Town open canoe until the last day, when he transferred to a sit-on-top sea kayak which he and his son paddled to the end of the river at Fort Monroe. 

Along the way, Kaine informs his readers about Native Americans in Virginia, as well as the role African Americans played in the state. The river’s dark history includes bringing many enslaved Africans up its waters to be sold into slavery. Kaine trip ends in the waters of Civil War battles and the site of the United States’ largest naval base. 

Recommendation 

I really enjoyed this book. As a Vice-Presidential candidate, Kaine seemed to me to lack pep. Reading this, I understand he’s probably more of an introvert. Yet, he gets things done. I wish this book had been available earlier, as I am now impressed with him and his grasp of the state which he serves. I would recommend this to Virginians and to those interested in the outdoors or the more personal side of politicians. 

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Faith requires understanding

Title slide with photos of Mayberry and Bluemont Churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
August 11, 2024
Mark 8:11-21

Sermon recorded at Bluemont on Friday, August 9, 2024

At the beginning of worship: 

When I worked in the bakery, Sunday was a day of production. We made the bread, starting right after midnight Saturday and throughout the day. This was so the bread could be delivered to our trucks on Sunday night and then into the stores first thing on Monday. 

When I was a young supervisor, we had a problem one Sunday afternoon. The bread rose nicely in the proof box, where some 4,000 loaves waited for the oven. But then, as the pans left the proof box and moved across a conveyor to the oven, the dough dropped. This wasn’t good. I started checking everything and having my mixer operator test and record even more frequently than normal. My first thought was something happened to a brew, which would mean we’d lose 3,000 loaves of bread.

But nothing seemed out of normal. At first, I assumed the mixer operator left out something. I watched the clock, waiting for things to return to normal. After 45 minutes, I stood by the proof box, waiting. But things didn’t improve. At this point, I called the plant manager and the maintenance engineer in on their days off. They came in and alerted the general manager and the bakery owners. Soon, we were having a pow-wow, trying to figure out what was going on. Hour after hour, we produced loaves barely an inch tall. It all ended up wasted. 

We tried everything and nothing worked. Finally, we tried setting up new brews in the fermentation tanks and pulled all new ingredients from a different batch of materials. After tossing roughly six hours of production out the door, 24,000 loaves, things returned to normal. I was scared that I might be fired, as I had no idea what was wrong. But then, neither did anyone else. 

We collected samples to be sent to a lab. A few days later, we got the report back. I and the mixer operator were vindicated. The salt we used, which included the enrichment for the flour, had three times the amount of iron than required.[1] The overly machined bread couldn’t handle the excess iron. The enrichment, which we went back to adding ourselves, was to blame. 

When we added the enrichment ourselves, the mixer operator took a half dozen capsules and dissolve them in a two-cup container of water. Then he poured it into the brew base that went into 3,000 loaves. Think about how small of an amount—six capsules, weighing maybe 2 ounces, could ruin so much dough. [2]

Jesus warns us to watch out for evil. It doesn’t take much (like a bit of yeast to make a loaf or a little too much enrichment to flatten one), to send us down the wrong road. We must be careful. 

Before reading the Scripture: 

In our passage today, Mark doesn’t provide us much context except that it occurs at the stop after the feeding of the 4,000 which we explored last Sunday. And the conversation with the disciples builds upon the topic of bread. But first, there’s an exchange between Jesus and the Pharisees.

We have already seen conflicts between Jesus and the Pharisees. Our passage begins with another one. But we’re not just shown how those in opposition to Jesus are on the other side, they also include those following Jesus. No one seems to “understand” who Jesus is. Mark builds up to the climax of his book, which-God willing-I plan for us to explore in two weeks.[3]


Let me say a bit about yeast. It comes up in this story and is essential for bread. Yeast in a Biblical sense was mostly used as a metaphor for evil. That is certainly seen in the Old Testament, but also in Jesus’ teachings.[4] However, Jesus also refers to yeast in a positive manner—as an example of the kingdom—in Matthew’s gospel.[5] But here, Jesus speaks of the corruption effect of yeast. 

Read Mark 8:11-21

Our text begins with the Pharisees again trying to test Jesus. The word used for test isn’t about discovering Jesus’ competency. This isn’t an IQ test or the SAT. Instead, it means they’re trying to trip Jesus up, to get him to say something they can use against him. 

Today, this seems to be the strategy of politicians on both sides of the aisle. If you can get a sound clip of your opponent saying something you can use against them, you have a winning strategy. 

The word used here for “test” implies a stumbling block or an obstacle that they are laying down before Jesus. Mark uses this same word to describe the devil tempting Jesus in the wilderness.[6]

As a part of their test, or their attempt to trick Jesus, they demand a sign from heaven. Essentially, they want insight into Jesus’ authority.[7] It’s not a miracle they’re asking for. There’s been plenty of miracles and it would be odd that they wouldn’t have heard about the feeding of the 5,000 and the 4,000. In addition, most likely they have heard the reports of Jesus’ healings and other miracles. Is Jesus’ power from God or from a more sinister source?

In a way, this passage picks up the argument Jesus had with the scribes from Jerusalem back in Mark 3, where they accused his powers to be from Beelzebul or the ruler of the demons.[8] If you remember back that far, Jesus speaks of the one plundering the “strong man’s house,” must first “tie him up.” By confronting evil powers in the world, that’s what Jesus is doing. He binds the “strong man,” Satan, so that he can rescue us. 

But Jesus, who comes in weakness, requires those who desire freedom to accept him by faith. But that’s hard. The Pharisees can’t seem to accept it, nor can the disciples as we’ll see in a minute. I also suggest that we, too, have a problem with accepting such grace. We want to be in control of our destinies, and along comes Jesus who says, “Follow me,” “Trust me,” “Believe in me.” It all goes against our grain. 


I am looking forward to reading a book that has just been published this past week. Daniel Silliman has written a religious biography of Richard Nixon, titled One Lost Soul: Richard Nixon’s Search for Salvation. I have read several reviews of the book, which sounds interesting.[9]

My friend, Robert, in Utah, who’s read almost every biography of Nixon, is also interested. We have agreed to read the book at the same time and discuss it. I’m still waiting on my copy to arrive. Robert lives in Salt Lake City. His copy arrived this past week, the day the book was released. Living in a rural setting, my copy won’t arrive until the middle of next week. But it’ll get here.  

From the reviews I’ve read, Silliman interprets Nixon as a man who tries to justify himself. Nixon is unable to accept grace. He feels he must earn approval. This idea of just trusting Jesus is hard. The Pharisees had a difficult time with it, as did the disciples, as did Nixon, and as do most of us. As I said, such trust goes against our grain. We feel we should be able to do whatever required to save ourselves, but that’s not the case. 

Jesus cuts the Pharisees off by saying that his generation will not be given any signs. Then he gets in the boat with the disciples, and they sail away, leaving the Pharisees to ponder what it all means. 

On the boat, and if you have noticed, sailing and rowing seems to be a major way of transportation in Mark’s gospel, we get into the second half of our story. The disciples now realize someone forgot to pack lunch! There’s only one loaf (and back then loaves weren’t that large). They’re blaming each other when Jesus steps in an warns them about the yeast of the Pharisees and of Herod. 

As we’ve seen throughout Mark’s gospel, the disciples are clueless. Jesus obviously refers to his recent encounter with the Pharisee’s, warning the disciples about how they and Herod could corrupt them. But they think Jesus mentioning yeast because of their comments on the lack of bread. 

The disciples are a lot like us. They think everything is about them. Jesus speaks of yeast, they immediately think “it’s because we’re talking about bread!” Jesus nips this conversation in the bud, as he asks if they still don’t understand despite all they’ve seen. Jesus recalls the two feeding stories and asks them how much food was left over. The disciples remember correctly, but still don’t seem to get Jesus. 

I don’t think the point of this passage is that Jesus can divide the bread and feed everyone, which obviously he could do. Instead, it’s more about their trust of Jesus. Do they know who he is, what he can do. Or are they still lost. Or, as Jesus asks at the end of this passage, do they still not understand? Faith, as we see here, isn’t done blindly. It requires understanding.

There is a parallel between this sailing trip up the lake and the Hebrew people in the Wilderness. Despite all God did for them, they Israelites had a hard time trusting God. It’s why they spent so much of the time in the wilderness.[10] God wanted to teach them to trust in his providence, but they kept forgetting about God’s gracious care. 

When difficulties arise in our lives, are we not the same way? Do we not worry, thinking that we’re in over our head, not trusting God’s presence to get us through? If we can control things, we don’t have a need for faith. But we also don’t have a need for God. However, Jesus came to show the Father and invites us to trust him, through the good and the bad. Such faith requires us to have our eyes opened, which will be further explored in next week’s sermon. 

Jesus is the Savior. We should place our faith in him. He is the one we should trust. If you don’t know him, ask him to open your eyes and ears, that you might believe. Amen.

[1] This is because most bakeries figure one pound of salt for every hundred pounds of flour. Adding the enrichment with the salt was supposed to be easier on the operators.

[2] I told this story earlier in my blog. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2021/07/01/another-bakery-story-the-perils-of-working-on-the-christian-sabbath/

[3] Mark’s climax is generally understood to be Peter’s Confession in Mark 8:29.

[4] Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark (1991, Hendrickson Publishing, 1997), 194.

[5] Matthew 13:33. 

[6] Mark 1:13. See James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 235. 

[7] Hooker, 191.

[8] Mark 3:20-27.  See also https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/04/07/the-unpardonable-sin-baseball-doing-the-will-of-god/

[9] See https://currentpub.com/2024/08/08/review-richard-nixons-graceless-religion/ or https://chartable.com/podcasts/signposts-with-russell-moore/episodes/174677472-nixons-politics-as-a-substitute-for-god   

[10] In addition to the Exodus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy passages, see Psalm 95:8-11. 

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Another Scouting Memory: Ron Carroll

title slide showing Cape Fear Council Staff 1982

With our plates overloaded with barbeque, coleslaw, baked beans and hushpuppies, Ron and I searched for empty seats at the makeshift tables filling Clarkton’s tobacco warehouse. It was a month or so after the tobacco market, but the sweet smell of Brightleaf tobacco lingered. We nudged our way to a couple empty seats. Ron turned to the man and his wife sitting next to them and asked if these seats were available.

“Ya’ll good Democrats, aren’t you?” the man asked in a strong southern dialect.

“Hell yeah, wouldn’t vote no other way,” Ron shot back.

I about dropped my plate as I knew Ron had never voted for a Democrat in his life.

It was homecoming day for Jimmy Green, North Carolina’s Lieutenant Governor. Green had just been acquitted for corruption. I was a young district scout executive and since many of Green’s supporters were also scout volunteers, they’d arranged from him to give a sizable gift to our camp construction campaign. I was at the homecoming to present Green with a plaque in front of his friends and neighbors on this day of celebration. Ron was my boss, the council executive. I had told him about the program, and he asked if he could tag along. Waiting for the program to begin, we ate our barbeque and drank glasses of iced tea. Ron, with his Mississippi accent, fit right in.

Cape Fear Council Staff, 1982
Ron is in the back row, second to the left. Back row John, Ron, Ray, Andy (camp ranger), Parker, me. Front row: ?, Teresa, Lisa?, Pam, Lillian.



Ron was a salesman, and a good one. He’d recruited me to work for the Boy Scouts, taking a significant pay cut when I left the bakery. He was also a good teacher and mentor and to this day I am indebted to him. Under Ron’s tutelage, I learned to run successful fundraising campaigns which not only raised money, but empowered people to feel a part of the organization. Although on this day in Clarkton, we honored someone who’d given a five figure gift to the scouting program, Ron continually emphasized to his staff to go after every gift, regardless of size. 

Emphasizing the importance of grass root gifts, Ron told and retold the story of Big Jim Folsom, a populist governor from Alabama in the mid-20th Century. Whenever Folsom spoke, he passed the hat and encouraged people to put in what they could. “Even if you don’t have any folding money, he quipped, “drop in a little change. Every gift is important, and we will use your gifts to fight for you.” Folsom’s advisors questioned this policy, reminding him he had plenty of fat-cats backing him and didn’t need to nickel and dime the poor folk. But Folsom knew better. “People make their commitment with money,” he told them, “If they give me a quarter, I don’t have to worry when the next candidate comes around seeking their support; they’ve already sealed their commitment to me.

Starting in February 1981, I worked with Ron for three years with the Cape Fear Council. I moved to the Piedmont Council in February 1984, but we kept in touch. A few months after I left, Rom moved south to become the Scout Executive for the council in Orlando, Florida. It was a big promotion. I remember talking to Ron as I was considering leaving the Scouting organization to attend Seminary. It was in the spring of 1986. As he’d done in Wilmington, Ron had been working to kicking off a major building fund campaign. They were building it around the Space Shuttle Challenger. Ron had the staff to design letterhead and logos and just a week or two before they were to kick off the campaign, the Challenger Space Shuttle blew up on take-off. They postponed the campaign. 

Over the next twenty years, Ron and I mainly stayed in contact through Christmas cards. His cards often included an ointment from the council where he was serving. A few of these still remain on my Christmas trees.

After Orlando, Rom became the Scout Executive for the Council in Washington, DC. There, he got to rub shoulders with politicians of all stripes, Democrats and Republicans. He was even considered for the Chief Scouting Executive position for the whole nation. But Ron’s health began to fail. Always a workaholic, he began to realize he couldn’t concentrate on the work he’d bring home to read in the evening. He started to forget things. A physical indicated a growth in his brain. Ron consulted some of the best medical minds through the National Institute of Health, but the cancer couldn’t be contained. In late 2004, at the age of 62, Ron took a medical retirement and he and Pam moved back to Wilmington, NC. 

The last time I saw Ron, it was a few days after Christmas in 2004. I had flown down to Wilmington to see my parents and Ron. We saw each other a couple of times over the few days I was home. On the day I arrived, I met with Ron and his wife Pam for ice cream at Salt Works near Bradley Creek. Ron could no longer drive. We met again for dinner. Then, before I headed home to Michigan, I allowed Pam the day to do some errands, while I sat with Ron at their home. 

That morning, I asked Ron about Big Jim Folsom. We talked for a few minutes about the former governor. Ron, who had later in his career worked with many in Clinton’s administration, told me that Bill Clinton could have learned from Folsom’s straightforward approach. According to Ron, Big Jim had once been caught going into a hotel room with a beautiful young woman who wasn’t his wife. He admitted to his constituents that he’d made a mistake, but went on to say that his opponents were out to get him and that girl had been the bait they’d used and anytime they use bait that appealing, they’re going to catch Big Jim.

“Ron,” I said, “Willie wasn’t set up.”

Ron laughed and told me another story. A rumor circulated that Folsom was known to have cocktails with the Kennedy clan. “That’s a damn lie,” Folsom retorted. “Everyone knows I don’t drink cocktails, I drink my whiskey straight, just like you folks.”

Although Ron had learned the skills of motivating people from a populist governor who was also a racist, Ron worked hard to overcome the prejudices instilled in those who grew up in the South. That last day I’d spent with Ron, I reminded him of an incident that occurred one day, not long after I’d started working with the Boy Scouts. 

Ron and I made a call on a Baptist pastor in Evergreen, a small community in Columbus County which did not have a scout troop at this time. Several parents and kids in the community, most of whom were black, had requested that a unit be started. We just needed to find a chartering organization. 

We had pleasant chat with this pastor. But he insisted that although he’d love to see a scout program, his deacons wouldn’t allow black boys to run around in their church. I began arguing, pointing out that this wasn’t a Christian attitude. But Ron cut me off. He politely and told the pastor if things changed, to contact us. We quickly left. 

As we drove away, Ron muttered, “that lying son-of-a-bitch.” “Don’t you believe he really wanted the troop,” I asked. Ron said he felt the pastor and the deacons were of the same mind. Then I asked why he didn’t want to confront the man. He said we weren’t going to change the preacher’s mind; it was best to leave with him thinking better of us than we did of him.

Ron chuckled, as I recalled the incident that had happened nearly a quarter century earlier. Ron wasn’t doing very well, having had numerous surgeries and bouts of chemotherapy to fight an aggressive brain cancer. The drugs bloated his face. He often forgot what he was saying. At about 11 that morning, Ron insisted we have ice cream. An hour later, he decided we needed a sandwich and a beer. 

Ron was the only boss I had in my life who would treat his staff to drinks at lunch! And even here, a quarter century later, and just a few months before his own death, Ron treated me to a beer. Over lunch, he spoke about how he hoped to have a chance to write his memoirs. Sadly, that chance never came. 

I first wrote this post about 15 years ago. I have added to it and edited it for this post.

Other Scouting Stories:

Harold Bellamy

Delano

Camp Bangladesh

Cape Fear Council Staff 1982
A copy of another photo of the council staff, I think this was taken in front of City Hall on 3rd Street in Wilmington
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Feeding the 4,000 East of Galilee

Sermon title slide showing the two rock churches along the Parkway

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
August 4, 2024
Mark 8:1-10

Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Friday, August 2, 2024

At the Beginning of Worship:

cover of "White Bread: A Social History of the Store-Brought Loaf"

About a month ago, I read an article where the author referred to this book: White Bread: A Social History of the Store-Brought Loaf.[1] I’m sure most of you might not have found it interesting, but I immediately ordered the book. Of course, I spent three of my college years and about a year and a half afterwards working in a wholesale bakery.[2]

Bread has been the foundation of life for humans in the western world. In the eastern world, it’s rice, of which there are some similarities especially when comparing white rice and white bread. In the west, there have been times in our history where we have received up to half of our calories from bread.

I was shocked to learn that for years white bread was considered the bread of the elite. Not everyone could afford the bleaching and extra processing it took to produce such flour. And, while doing such processing, much of the nutrition found in the wheat grain was lost. But the refined flour was easier to work on an industrial scale.  

To dominate the market for bread, industrial bakers had to both compete with homemade bread and bread made, often by immigrants, in dirty hovels within cities. The bakers attacked mom’s homemade bread as not being as soft and fresh as the heavily conditioned dough used in factories. And they were able to create the impression that their bread was more sanitary than that produced in small bakeries.  

Drawing on American’s distrust of immigrants, the battle against small bakeries was easily won. It’s ironic to think about how bread was used as a weapon in the anti-immigrant wars of the early 20thCentury.[3] Bread divided people!

Jesus uses bread to bring people together. In our passage today, Jesus draws people of different backgrounds together to be fed as he ministers to them. In communion, the common table represents a coming together of those who love him. 

Before the Reading of Scriptures

Ever had a feeling of Déjà vu? As if you’ve heard or experienced something before? Well today, when I read the passage, you might wonder if I’m repeating a sermon from five weeks ago. After all, didn’t Jesus just feed the multitude with five loaves and two fishes? Well, yes, he did. And he’s back at it today. And I admit, I wish Mark hadn’t placed these two stories so close together, because I must come up with something fresh to say… 

In the first story, Jesus fed five thousand. Today’s its four thousand. At this time, as we saw last week, Jesus is on the side of the Sea of Galilee which has a lot of Gentiles. Some scholars want us to think this is the same story.[4] But there are minor differences to the story, including locations[5] which indicate that these are different stories. 

But before I read and get into the sermon, let me tell you an interpretation of the passage popular in the early church. Theologians back then interpreted these events in this manner. The 5,000 were Jews, with five loaves representing the Torah, the first five books of the Bible. This passage speaks of 4,000 being fed with seven loaves. This could represent either the seven nations in Deuteronomy,[6] or the four of 4000 representing the four corners of the earth. By this, Jesus foreshadows what will happen to the church. 

In the earlier story, they collect 12 baskets of leftovers, one for each tribe of Israel. In today’s story, they collect 7 baskets which point to the seventy nations thought to exist in the world at this time, or the seven nations mentioned in Deuteronomy.[7] While using numeric symbolism in interpretation of scripture is valid in some books, it doesn’t go with the rest of Mark’s gospel. Mark isn’t writing Revelation, or Daniel.[8]

Also, numeric symbolism has often been abused. Think of all those who someone has found a way to make their name to equal 666, the number of the beast. I’ve seen it worked out to represent Ronald Reagan, Barack Obama, a handful of Popes, along with several lesser-known folks. 

I don’t necessarily agree with trying to interpret passages by the symbolism of numbers. However, I do think Jesus makes a point by feeding both those Jewish Galilee and in the mixed religious areas of the Decapolis. Jesus is for all people. 

Let’s listen to God’s word. 

Read Mark 8:1-10

The disciples in Mark’s gospel are always clueless. They’ve already seen Jesus take care of the needs of the crowd. Yet, a few weeks later, they ask their Master where they are going to get bread in the desert, in the wilderness. They don’t learn.

While bread was the staff of life for those in the western world for thousands of years before Jesus, it requires civilization to produce. It’s not something that an individual can whip up on their own in any great quantity. Perhaps a homesteader could grow a little wheat or barley and grind it and bake it to feed a family. But to make enough bread for 4,000 people requires a lot more effort. Someone needs to grow the grain, someone else needs to mill it. Another group needs to collect firewood. Then there are those who knead the dough while another tends the fire in the oven. 

In the 1970s, when I was working in the bakery, to make enough bread to satisfy 4000 people would have still taken a team of eight, six hours. Yet, that would only be half hour of production, but the production process takes longer. And that’s with all kinds of modern machinery running on three phase electrical power and supported by a large natural gas line. On top of this, it involved buying flour, shortening, and sweetener by the truck or railcar load. 

So, they are in the desert with a bunch of hungry people. In the feeding of the 5,000, Jesus was so into teaching that he didn’t notice the sun dropping and stomachs growling. The disciples had to clue Jesus in. Here, Jesus realizes the problem. Not only that, but he also has compassion on the people. The word for compassion implies a gut-wrenching turn of one’s stomach.[9]Jesus identifies their hunger, which can be gut-wrenching. And since they’ve come from such distances (the Decapolis wasn’t highly populated), he’s afraid they’ll faint as they make their way home. 

Notice that Jesus’ indicates that many have traveled a great distance to be here. If this is a mostly Gentile crowd (which I think it was), this means that even though they have far to travel, even the Gentiles are not beyond God’s grace. Of course, this is good news to us. 

The disciples immediately ask Jesus what he wants them to do, reminding Jesus there’s no Food Lions or bakeries in sight. 

As he’d done before, Jesus asks how many loaves of bread they have.

Seven, they said. Taking the bread, he asks the crowd to sit down.[10] Then, using language like the words of institution during Communion, he breaks the bread and has the disciples to distribute it. And everyone is filled. 

In this story, unlike the first feeding of a multitude, the fish almost becomes an afterthought. Also, the word here for fish imply small fish such as sardines.[11] They were truly a snack, with the bread serving as the main course. 

After they were fed, we’re told there were 4,000 of them. In the previous story, Mark said there were 5,000 men (as in male) fed. Here, the word implies “people.”[12] We can assume these included men and women, which again points to the early church welcoming all into the fellowship of believers.  As Paul reminds us, we’re all one in Christ whether man or woman, Jew or Greek, slave or free.

Jesus has the disciples collect the leftovers, which results in seven baskets. Then he sends the crowd away, and they headed to a boat and goes to the district of Dalmanutha. We are not sure of its location, and it seems to have been a town lost in history, as even the early church writers debated over its location.[13]

What lesson might we take from this passage? First, we see an example of Jesus’ compassion. He is concerned that some within the crowd had travelled long distances and wanted to make sure they were able to make it home. Jesus is concerned for those who seek him out, and that includes us. We can rest assured that Jesus wants what is best for us. As the 23rd Psalm reminds us, God is with us even when we must walk the valley of the shadow of death.[14]

We also learn of Jesus’ concern for us is more than for the eternal welfare of our soul. Jesus wanted to assure the crowd had enough food to eat. We can assume this is the case even for us. Jesus wants us to have our daily bread. He wants us to succeed in life. 

Because of the image we have of Jesus in scripture, we should we at peace. We may face difficulties in this world, but we know we’re watched over by a loving God. Amen. 

[1] Aaron Bobrow-Strain, White Bread: A Social History of the Store-Brought Loaf (Boston: Beacon Press, 2012). For my review of the book, see https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/07/31/baking-memories-and-a-book-review/

[2] To read my baking stories, begin here: https://fromarockyhillside.com/2021/04/08/coming-of-age-at-the-bakery/

[3] The author goes into detail about the role bread played in World War II and in the Cold War. 

[4] For a review and critique of this idea, see James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 227.

[5] It is pointed out that we are not sure where this feeding took place. However, since Jesus has been in the Decapolis, and we’re not told of Jesus leaving at this point (and Mark has been giving us a rough travelogue, I think it is fair to assume he’s still on the east side of the Sea of Galilee. For another opinion, see Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark, (1991, Hendrickson Publishing, 1997), 187-188.  See also Edwards, 229. 

[6] Deuteronomy 7:1. See Edwards, 231. 

[7] Douglas R. A. Hare, Westminster Bible Companion: Mark (Louisville, KY: Westminster, 1996), 89.  Also see Hooker, 188. 

[8] Edwards, 231. 

[9] Andrew Purves, The Search for Compassion: Spirituality and Ministry (1989). See also Edwards, 230.

[10] In the feeding of the 5,000, Jesus has the disciples to order the crowd to sit down into groups of 50 to 100. Here, Jesus does the directing of the crowds. 

[11] Edwards, 228.

[12] Edwards, 231. 

[13] This place must have been renamed or deserted for it wasn’t known even in early Christian history. Hooker, 190. Edwards, 234 makes the case that it could be the fishing village of “Magadan.” 

[14] Psalm 23:4.

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Baking memories and a book review

title slide

Aaron Bobrow-Strain, White Bread: A Social History of the Store-Brought Loaf (Boston: Beacon Press, 2012), 252 pages include an index and extensive notes. 

A story from my bakery days

from the internet, a photo of a pound and a half loaf of Holsum white bread

In a supervisor meeting sometime in 1979 or 1980, Jerry Hendrix, the General Manager of Fox Holsum Bakery, berated us for not being able to produce uniformed loaf bread. “I don’t care if it’s crap,” he said. “It needs to be consistent. If it’s consistent, I can sell it.”

It was a tough time for bakeries. To start with, our government sold an excessive amount of wheat to Russia, who were dealing with poor harvests. The price of flour had doubled, cutting deeply into our profit margins. Furthermore, the price of sugar had gone up as had the cost and availability of natural gas. We were being squeezed from all directions. And now, our number one product, a pound and a half loaf of white bread was becoming unmanageable. Most of us felt that the problem came from the yeast. A few months earlier, we have left behind Fleishmann’s Yeast” for a new company’s product, “Dixie Yeast.”  At first, things ran fine. The yeast still worked fine on our variety bread and on the roll line, which used traditional mixing equipment with chilled jackets. 

 The white bread line was different. This bread was mixed in a do-maker. This machine that mixed the ingredients at a very high rate of speed and a high temperature. The fermentation was first done in large vats that consisted of water, sugar, yeast, and other dough conditioners. Flour, along with shortening and sugar (corn syrup) were added straight into the mixer, along with the brew from the vats. The bread was cut into a piece of dough and dropped into a pan. Such rough treatment of the dough required not only chemical treatment, but also demanded ingredients to be constant. We produced 4200 loaves an hour of this bread. But each vat of bread rose differently. Sometimes the bread was too large, making it hard to slice and bag. Other times, the loaf was too small, and looked sick. 

The General Manager and the company’s owners didn’t want to hear our excuses about the yeast. Sometime around this point, we learned the owners of the bakery had, with other industrial bakers, invested in the yeast company. A host of specialists were brought in. They tried new kinds of chemical dough conditioners, but nothing works. The decision was made to go back to Fleishmann’s yeast. Things returned to normal. After a lot of checking, we learned that the yeast was being mixed in fiberglass tanks instead of stainless steel. The fiberglass tanks were harder to clean (but they were cheaper). Eventually they had to change out their production tanks. A few months later, we went back to Dixie yeast, and it worked fine.

My review of White Bread

White Bread: A Social History of the Store-Brought Loaf book cover.

I tell the above story to illustrates a lot of what Aaron Bobrow-Strain writes about in his social history of white bread. Bleached, chemically enhanced bread has always been suspect. But by the 1950s, Americans ate an average of eight slices a day of the stuff. By the late 70s, when I worked in an industrial bakery, the decline of such bread was on the horizon. In another production meeting, at a time of high inflation, we heard warnings that if a loaf of bread rose to cost more than a dollar, it would doom our industry. People, we were told, would never pay so much for bread. I often think of this when I spend four dollars on a loaf today. 

While bread might seem to be an odd research topic for a social history, but Bobrow-Strain provides an interesting insight into the rise of the loaf, and its decline. He also provides insight into other issues going on in America (and to lesser extent Europe and the rest of the world) during the rise of industrial baking. In 1890, 90% of the bread consumed in the United States was baked in a home kitchen. By 1930, during the depression, this completely reversed. 90% of the bread was baked in industrial factories. 

The rise of factory produced bread is a compelling story that often reflects American prejudices and biases. Prior to the rise of industrial baking, most of the commercially available bread were baked in basement shops in cities like New York City. Here, in these bakeries, immigrants lived and worked in less than sanitary conditions. The first industrial bakeries jumped on American nativism feelings to promote their product as wholesome and clean. In addition, as technology changed, they were able to purchase ingredients much cheaper than the small local bakeries or even housewives. With the increase of transportation options, industrial bakers were in the position to seize the bread markets. 

White bread ruled the day, but there were some who questioned this including blaming the fall of France to Germany in 1940 on white bread. French bread is white (but not necessarily industrially produced), while the Germans preferred a darker bread. Later, in the Cold War, American’s felt their “white bread” was superior to Russian dark loaves. 

Advertising encouraged consumers to equate the softness of the new industrial bread with freshness, overlooking the use of chemicals to condition the dough.  Interestingly, at the dawn of America’s entry into World War II, a significant number of American men did not meet the physical demands for military service. Processing of the flour to produce the whitest loaves robbed the wheat of essential vitamins. But such enrichments could be added back chemically. The first national food order during the war required such enrichments. By the end of the war, no one wanted anything less that “enriched” bread. 

Throughout the fifties’, people considered enriched bread a superfood. It even caught on in places like Japan.  When I visited Japan in 1979, it was shocking to see on the shelves white bread void of crust!  By the 60’s, the hippie counter cultural laid groundwork for a rediscovery of bread baked at home or in small shops. Newspapers ran recipes about home baking and cookbooks sprang up included the Tassajara Bread Book. I discovered this book while working at the bakery and used (and still use) the recipes in the book to make heartier loaves of bread.  

Bakers began to respond by adding more bran and even adding cellulous (wood pulp) to increase the fiber within bread. One of our variety breads was “VIM” in which we added a couple 50 pounds of bags of cellulous to each mixer. I recall it making the dough sticky and almost as hard to machine as rye bread.  Another trick was to add sourdough flavoring to the mix to make the bread taste a little more like sourdough bread, which required a two-step mixing process and allowing the “starter” to proof, which took up space and equipment. 

Bobrow-Strain ends his story with how white bread, once seen as food for the wealthy and royalty, became equated with “white-trash” and even soul food. Unlike the 70s, today’s bread aisles in supermarkets carry a variety of bread. We now eat bread with more grains or whole wheat that the industrial white bread which I made during my baking years. 

Toward the end of the book, Bobrow-Stain takes us inside Grupo Bimbo, the largest baking company in the world today. Oddly enough, it is a Mexican company who has taken over many of American top bakery labels. I still remember the first time I saw “Bimbo Bread,” which was in Honduras in 2004. Why would anyone use such a label for product, I wondered. Of course, I thought of the word in its negative American slang connotation. In Latin America, Bimbo is the name of a bear mascot.  

Conclusion

 While I enjoyed this book, I know it appealed to me because of my background in a wholesale bakery.  But there is much to learn here, so I recommend it to others. Bobrow-Strain even moves outside of bread to discuss our attempts to “eat healthier” and how Americans (since Sylvester Graham in the early 19th Century) have followed food gurus who promised great things but often failed to deliver. The book is worthwhile for this, alone, in a day in which we seem more susceptible to all kinds of claims that may have little scientific backing. The author also has a love of baking and eating good loaves of bread, so he’s writing about something for which he cares. 

More of my Bakery Stories:

Coming of Age in a Bakery: Linda and the Summer of ’76

A College Boy in the Bakery

Harvey and Ernest

Frank and Roosevelt

The Perils of Working on the Christian Sabbath

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Open our ears, that we might hear…

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
July 28, 2024
Mark 7:31-37

At the beginning of worship:  

This Wednesday, at Bluemont, there will be a revival service. It’s at 7 PM, followed by a time of fellowship with cobbler and ice cream. We invite you to come and to bring friends. I promise, we won’t draw-out the hymns while we encourage people to come forward during an altar call or any such emotional string pulling. Emotional string pulling isn’t for us to do, that’s the work of the Holy Spirit.

But we do have work to do when it comes to making converts for Jesus. We tell his story. And we set the stage by making people feel welcomed and loved, which sets the stage for the Holy Spirit to move in our midst. Borrowing from another pastor, this morning I offer four suggestions on how we might do this: 

The Ten Feet Rule:  If you come within ten feet of another person, make eye contact, smile, and say “hello” (whether you know the person or not).

The Three Minute Rule: Immediately following the worship service, use the first three minutes to seek out someone you do not know and introduce yourself. 

The Two Person Rule:  No one should be left standing or sitting alone. If you see someone like this, sit on the same aisle or stand and talk with them. 

And then, item #4, probably the hardest suggestion to adopt. 

The Front and Center Rule: Regular long-term members should sit in the center of a pew and toward the front. This leaves room at the ends of the pews and in the back for our guest. Instead of things being what makes us most comfortable, it should be what makes our guest feels comfortable.[1]

It all boils’ downs to this; it’s not about us. Church is not about us. We are here because we are followers of Jesus. As in our story today, Jesus has opened our ears to his word and our tongues to praise him. We’re to do is for his glory and to draw other people to him. So instead of focusing on ourselves, Jesus calls us to focus on others. What do they want and need? What will make them comfortable enough to seek Jesus? 

Before Reading the Scriptures:

Last week we saw that Jesus had left the area around the Sea of Galilee, which is after all just a big lake. He traveled overland to a real sea, the Mediterranean. This territory is beyond the traditional boundaries of Israel. The people are Gentiles and pagans. But even here, Jesus’ reputation precedes his arrival. People want to see him such as the woman we met last week. 

In this section of Mark, Jesus wears his walking sandals. After having walked from Galilee to the Mediterranean Sea, in our reading today, he heads to the Decapolis, the region of the ten cities which is on the Gentile side of the Sea of Galilee. But instead of taking the direct route, which would have cut across Galilee, Jesus travels a circular route, heading north and then across the land, before heading south. It’s approximately 120 miles.[2]

Mark doesn’t give us a reason why Jesus took this route. But we can speculate. Maybe Jesus was still looking for a break from the crowds who had hounded him in Galilee. Or maybe he wanted to avoid a premature encounter with Herod, the ruler of the region whom we learned a couple weeks ago, has Jesus on his radar.[3]

Whatever the reason, in our reading today, we find Jesus back in the territory in which he’d been shooed away from after giving release to the man with a legion of demons.[4] While he helped the man, allowing him to live a normal life, most people were frightened by his power and wanted nothing to do with him. This time, however, Jesus seems to be welcomed for they bring a man who has lost the ability to hear and speak. Let’s listen: 

Read Mark 7:31-37

This is one of two miracle stories found in Mark’s gospel that’s not found in either Matthew or Luke.  The second miracle story is in the next chapter, so we’ll look at it in a few weeks. There, Jesus heals a blind man. Mark has told us stories of Jesus healing and freeing people from demons, as well as raising the dead and controlling the weather. While I have suggested over and over in our journey through his gospel that Mark wants to establish the divinity of Jesus, here he establishes key criteria of Jesus’ Messiahship.  

In Matthew’s gospel, we’re told that when John the Baptist was in prison, he began to wonder and doubt. Maybe he became discouraged. So, he sends his disciples to Jesus to see if Jesus is the Messiah. Drawing on the prophets, Jesus tells John’s disciples: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.”[5] Jesus fulfills part of that call in this passage. 

We also should ponder if those who have brought this man to Jesus thought he’d be healed. Instead of asking for a healing, they ask Jesus to lay his hands on the man. While laying on of hands may resort in healing, it was also something done as a blessing.[6]

After all, there have been many times when everyone knew someone was about to die that I would anoint them with oil and then have elders and family lay hands on them as we pray. In other words, you lift them up and place them into God’s hands. 

Instead of oil, Jesus uses spit. For us, that might seem nasty or weird. I’ve certainly never used spit. Even in the Old Testament, such fluids were to be avoided. But in Jesus’ day, it appears to have been common for some healers to use such bodily fluids. It seems odd that Jesus, who in the previous story freed the young girl from a demon without even saying something or seeing her, employs such theoretics. However, as we’re told in the text, Jesus doesn’t do this in front of the crowd, but in private.[7] Also, here, Jesus appears to call upon heaven for help. And the man’s ears open and his tongue is freed. He can communicate again. 

While Jesus tells them to tell no one, they proclaim Jesus’ greatness. That last line is a winner. “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak. 

This passage is one that we can all place ourselves into, at least metaphorically.[8] We need our ears opened, so that we might hear and understand the words of Jesus. For unless the Holy Spirit, often through another person, opens scripture for us, we are lost. 

We need to have our ears opened (or maybe the wax cleaned from them, so that we might hear what Jesus has to say to the world. And once we hear, our tongues need to be freed so that we might be a witness to Christ. 

No longer does Jesus have to worry about keeping himself secret. The powers of this world have done all they can to him, and he still lives and reigns in power. We, his church, are to follow him, showing his love and proclaiming his grace. Like the man in the story, pray that we might hear what Jesus wants us to hear and that our tongues might be freed so we can share with others what Jesus has done for us. Amen. 

[1] This came from the Reverend James Gerling. I don’t remember where I found it. 

[2] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 223-224.

[3] Mark 6:14-15, see https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/06/23/the-death-of-john-the-baptist/

[4] Mark 5:1-20. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/06/02/jesus-and-the-man-living-in-the-tombs/

[5] Matthew 11:4-5. 

[6] William L. Lane, The Gospel of Mark, (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1974), 266.

[7] Jesus may have done this privately in order not to be seen as a miracle worker in front of the crowds. Lane, 268. 

[8] See Douglas R. A. Hare, Westminster Bible Companion: Mark (Louisville, KY: WJKKP, 1996), 88. 

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Scouting Memories: Harold

title slide

Last week, I introduced you to Delano. Today, I’m introducing you to Harold, an unlikely Scoutmaster from Tabor City during my time working for the Boy Scouts in Columbus and Bladen County, North Carolina in the early 1980s.

It was probably a cruel joke. Harold volunteered to spend a week with his scout troop at Camp Bowers. He asked me for book recommendations. I lent him a couple of books, one of which was James Baldwin’s Giovanni’s Room. I knew he’d read it. It shocked him to learn of a book by Baldwin he hadn’t read. After all, he taught social studies. Furthermore, like Baldwin, he was an African American, both products of the Black Pentecostal church. And I was a white boy and the Boy Scout’s hired hand. 

Cover photo of the copy of Giovanni's Room that I lent Harold

Giovanni’s Room isn’t your typical Baldwin book. Unlike Baldwin’s better-known writings, Giovanni’s Room has nothing to do with the African American experience. Set in Paris, the story features a unique triangle relationship between an American couple and an Italian (Giovanni). But it’s not the American girl, who’s interested in Giovanni; it’s David, the boy. I read the book in college. I found the book eye-opening and unnerving. Baldwin draws on his readers emotions by making them feel affection for all the characters. And he doesn’t touch on race. In addition to bisexuality, the story also involves capital punishment. After a fight with his former employer at a bar, Giovanni kills the man. The book ends with Giovanni’s execution for the murder.

When I lent him the book, I had a suspicion Harold was unaware of Baldwin’s sexuality. I should add that in addition to teaching Junior High, Harold was also a preacher in an Apostolic Pentecostal Church. But he dug right into the book. 

Harold didn’t exactly fit the Norman Rockwell’s view of a scoutmaster. He ended up with the job by default. A coach at the high school had been recruited to be the scoutmaster. He asked Harold to be his assistant. That next school year, the coach accepted a high school position in South Carolina. When no one else stepped forward, Harold who wanted his troop to do well, took over as Scoutmaster. I don’t think Harold had ever camped before becoming an assistant scoutmaster. I’m not even sure he’d built a campfire and I’m pretty sure he never used a compass. Harold was much more comfortable sitting inside with his head in a book than outside swatting mosquitoes and gnats. 

Even though Harold wasn’t created out of the scoutmaster’s mold, Harold was a great leader. Under his leadership, several of the boys in his troop earned their Eagle. These were the first Eagles earned in Tabor City in more than a decade. In fact, there had not been a troop in Tabor City for a decade before Harold and the coach got together. Harold served as Scoutmaster for four or five years. 

Tabor City had been a rough place. While the Chamber of Commerce crowned the town the “Sweet Potato Capital of the World;” informally it was known as Razor City. The city had a brutal past. In the 1950s, the Klan ruled. An intervention by the FBI destroyed the Klan. However, an uneasy truce existed. As an African American, Harold helped break down barriers which existed into the early 80s. He earned respected from the community, as shown by families allowing their white sons to join his troop. Several of the business leaders of the community thanked me for working with Harold and wanted him to succeed. 

Harold and I became friends, partly drawn together by our interest in history, social studies, literature and practical jokes. Later, as I felt drawn to seminary and to the ministry, we had some serious theological conversations. While I knew Harold to be a preacher at a Pentecostal Church in Tabor City, I just learned (see below) he ordained as a Bishop.

Harold finally forgave me for shattering his idyllic view of Baldwin. When my personal life became chaotic, Harold supported me. He even tried to set me up with another teacher at his school. I no longer remember her name, but husband had died in a work accident. We went out to lunch and her former mother-in-law was there. When we finished, we discovered that she’d paid for our meals! Harold, I think to care for both of us, attempted to bring us together. Later, after I left the area and moved across state, Harold and I occasionally met for lunch or dinner when I drove across state to see my parents in Wilmington. We wrote back and forth a few times after I left North Carolina for seminary in Pittsburgh, but with me having no reason to travel through Columbus County, and Harold no reason to head up north, we lost contact. 

A few years ago, as I was again occasionally driving through Columbus County (from Savannah to Wilmington), I tried to find him. I learned he retired from teaching after serving as a principal in Chadbourn.  In preparation for posting this, I learned of his death. Reading the comments posted on his obituary, I learned that after teaching in Tabor City, he taught at West Columbus High School and, as I had learned earlier, served as principal at Chadbourn Elementary. The secretary at the school could give me no more information about him. I also learned he become a Bishop. He suffered from a long-term illness and died in a Whiteville Nursing Home. He was 71 years old. 


Yet the key to my salvation, which cannot save my body, is hidden in my flesh.
-David imagining Giovanni’s execution in James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room)

Harold (left) and Delano with two scouts who were rewarded their Eagle award.
Harold (left) and Delano with two recent Eagle Scouts, 1983
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Crumbs for the Dogs

Title photo showing dogs begging for watermelon

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
July 21, 2024
Mark 7:24:30

Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Friday, July 19, 2024

At the beginning of worship:

“How unsearchable are God’s judgments and how inscrutable God’s ways,” Paul wrote to the Romans.[1]

One of the hardest things for us to do as a Christian is to acknowledge God’s sovereignty. Furthermore, we can’t second guess God. God’s knowledge far surpasses our limited understanding. Yet, many think they know the mind of God. They don’t. The only thing we know about God is what God reveals to us. 

There are places in scripture, if we’re honest, we struggle to understand. Our passage today from the 7th chapter of Mark is one of those places. I have wrestled with this passage this past week. I have wrestled with it in the past. This may well be one of those passages of which I’ll ask for clarification in the life to come. 

Before the reading of scripture:

Let’s go back in time, to the first century, to a market in a town on the Mediterranean Sea. Spend a few minutes imaging… Listen for the roar of waves crashing against the shore. Feel the heat subside as the sun moves lower in the west. A late afternoon breeze picks up. After having been closed d heat of the day is over. As things cool, the marketplace opens for the evening. 

It almost seems customary for the first customer to be the same woman. She comes early, with eyes red from crying, beating the crowds. She doesn’t speak. Slowly, she picks out food for her and her daughter’s meal. While examining slabs of bacon at the butcher’s shop, she overhears a bit of gossip. The butcher, a baker and a fisherman are chatting. Let’s listen in.

“Did you hear that Jesus, you know, the guy who’s rumored to have fed 5,000 people with just a few loaves of bread and sardines, is in town?  Another stunt like that and I might have to sell out,” the baker jokes.

“I might be with you,” the fisherman nods in agreement. “The method he uses to catch fish over on the Galilee will put me out of business.”

The woman lingers, listening…

“Isn’t Jesus the guy who sent those demons into a herd of pigs causing them to run off the cliff?” the butcher asks. “It’s a shame, all that good pork washed out to sea. The price of bacon hasn’t recovered yet! It seems the only trade he’s helped has been the roofers.”

“Where’s he staying?” The baker asks.

She leans over the counter to hear…

“He had a hard time finding a place after that stunt in Capernaum where some people cut a hole in the roof of a house in order to get to him,” the butcher replies. “Finally, Mr. Jones rented his old place up on 2nd Street. I couldn’t believe he’d rent it to Jesus.  I asked him about it, but old man Jones’ wasn’t too worried. He said the place needs a new roof anyway.

For the first time in months, the woman’s face lights up. “Jesus,” she says. “I must find Jesus.” She drops her shopping bag, kicks off her heels and runs, without stopping, to the house on 2nd Street.  Barging in, she falls at Jesus’ feet and begs him to release the demon possessing her daughter. A hush comes over the room. Jesus and the disciples are at a loss for words. The only sound comes from the screen door squeaking shut. For the first time in weeks the disciples are alone with their master and now this woman, a gentile no less, interrupts.[2]

Let’s now listen to the scripture… 

Read Mark 7:24-30

Our story today takes place on the heels of Herod hearing of Jesus, and Jesus’ arguing with the Pharisees over handwashing. Jesus then leaves the predominately Jewish area of Galilee and heads for the coast, in the territory of Phoenicia. His location shows his shunning of the older Jewish traditions of avoiding gentiles at all costs.[3] But if Jesus wanted an escape to his challenges from Herod Antipas and the Pharisees, his respite was short lived.[4]

As I tried to recreate in my prologue to reading the scriptures, even outside the traditional borders of Israel, people have caught wind of Jesus. If Jesus planned to hang out incognito with his disciples in this foreign land, his plans failed. As our text reads, “he couldn’t escape notice.”[5] A woman enters. Mark doesn’t just say that she’s a Gentile but is of Syrophoenician origin. In other words, she is foreign to everything Jewish. 

Like others whom we’ve already seen in Mark’s gospel, the woman is at wit’s end.[6] We are left to assume she has done everything she could for her daughter, and nothing helped. But hearing of Jesus, she enters the house where he’s at and pleads for his help. 

At first, Jesus brushes the woman aside. Pointing to his disciples, he tells her he must first feed the children before feeding the dogs. Imagine her heart sinking, her head dropping in shame. I’ll come back to that comment.

One of the humble things about parenting is the helplessness you often feel when dealing with your children. Unless you have a perfect child who never has accidents, it’s a common feeling. I don’t know too many children like that. Whether it is accidents, disease, struggles in school, dealing with bullies, getting in with the wrong crowd, many issues of childhood overwhelm parents. Generally, there isn’t much we can do but offer advice and support. 

Thinking about this girl, maybe we should consider the parents of Thomas Matthew Crooks.[7] Imagine how they are feeling right now. Like the Syrophoenician woman, I’m sure they wonder if there’s any scraps left on the table for them. Yet, we know, Jesus loves them as much as he loves those wounded or killed last Saturday. And Jesus loves those killed and wounded as much as he loves parents whose children will grow up to be missionaries or find new cures for diseases.  

However, this passage is not just about disappointments and bad news. God, through Jesus Christ, is doing something incredible. It starts at the beginning of the chapter where we learn that food laws aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.[8] “It isn’t what you eat—what’s in your stomach—that defiles you,” Jesus says. “It’s what’s in your heart.” God’s creation is good. Since we are all created by God, there is a possibility for us to all claim a divine inheritance.

The woman, like most gentiles who live near Galilee, is used to being called a dog. It’s common in 1st Century Palestine for the pious refer to the gentiles as dogs. There are commentators who try to soften this passage saying that Jesus was referring to a little house pet, not a stray dog on the street.[9] But does that make it any better, does it? 

I don’t know what to make of this passage. It disappoints me to see Jesus using such language. I’d prefer to have him say, “My dear child,” or something similar. Don’t call her a dog. Instead of getting hung up on this one word, let’s put it into context and see what Jesus is saying. By saying he must feed the children before the dogs, we’re reminded that Jesus’ mission focuses on Israelites.  But knowing this doesn’t help the woman solve her problem.  

Jesus is supposed to be a good man and we can imagine she’s hurt by his words. With her head bowed, maybe she moves toward the door. Then she pauses. She realizes Jesus hasn’t denied her request. When the disciples are fed, they may be leftovers. After all, there were plenty of leftovers when the 5,000 were fed, 12 baskets full.[10]  

The mother struggles for courage. Imagine her spinning around like a ballerina. She raises her head and looks Jesus in the eyes. “Sir,” she says, the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” This lady is no dummy. Jesus must deal with her, one way or the other.

“Even the dogs eat the crumbs off the children’s table,” what a great line.

“You’re right,” Jesus says. I imagine a big smile comes over his face as he continues, “Go home to your child, she is delivered!” 

There is, after all, good news in this passage. The woman’s racial heritage doesn’t keep her from experiencing the healing powers of Christ. Even her pagan background wasn’t a barrier. Notice Jesus doesn’t say anything about casting the demon out because she was good or religious or anything special. While the woman is foreign to everything Jewish, she has faith in our Savior. That’s what matters. And Jesus acts freely and shows compassion to her and her child.

Jesus extends his ministry of compassion to the gentiles while continuing to demonstrate his unlimited power. Although Jesus is tired and lacks stamina, he shows his power to cast out demons from a distance without saying a word!  

As we’ve already seen in Mark’s gospel, this story is another case of Jesus’ significant ministry not occurring in an organized fashion. Some of the most memorable events in Jesus’ life occur during interruptions.[11] The Syrophoenician woman, the bleeding woman who touched the hem of his garment, the raising of Lazarus, the calming of the waters. 

These events were not planned out except perhaps in Jesus’ mind. We’re not told Jesus noted in his calendar to, on a certain day, walk on water or heal a child. Instead, Jesus was in tune to the needs of those around him. Sometimes, we get glimpses of his humanism as in this story when he is tired and feels pressed upon by the woman, but he still ministers to her. I think ministry is often the same for us. Our best ministry doesn’t come from planning, but from responding to the needs of those around us.

The good news from this passage is that God’s faithfulness and grace extends to all people.  Kathleen Norris in one of her books says something like, “Fling the doors of the church wide open.” “Fling the doors of the church wide open!” Let’s welcome all people, especially those broken and hurting, into this new community. Amen.

[1] Romans 11:33. 

[2] I wrote this in 1999, imaging the woman hearing about Jesus based on Mark’s gospel to this point. I edited the piece for this sermon. 

[3] William L. Lane, The Gospel of Mark [NICNT], (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1974), 259.

[4] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 218.

[5] Mark 7:24c, NRSV. 

[6] Think of the craze Gerasene Demoniac, Jairus and his daughter along with the woman hemorrhaging for 12 years in Mark 5. 

[7] Crooks was the 20-year-old who shot at Trump last weekend and then killed by law enforcement.

[8] Mark 7:19.  See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/07/14/the-battle-over-tradition/.

[9] Lane, 262. 

[10] Mark 6:42-44. 

[11] See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/06/09/7247/

Dogs begging for watermelon
Mia and Apple want more than bread crumbs. Here they are begging for watermelon.