August 6, 2020 The Good News at Noon from Good Samaritan

 2 Kings 4: 42-44 Ephesians 3: 14-21          Matthew 14: 13-21

PARISH PICNIC

So, it is true that faith really matters here in Fox Hill, Wisconsin, my hometown. Weather is quite often the main topic of conversation on the streets and on the porches of Fox Hill. No one, not even Mr. Ferguson, the oldest bachelor farmer in the area, can remember a July as damp as this past month. The water level in Lake Madsen is so high, there’s about 20% less beach at the village park next to the Motel One and Only.

The Fox Hill Badgers, our local team in the Sons of Lombardi Central Wisconsin Baseball League, has had so many rain outs of their doubleheaders scheduled because of their COVID-19 already shortened season that they feel more like drowned rats.

Judy Martin has just returned from two weeks in Frankenmuth, Michigan where she had been attending a family reunion. Her husband, David, the semi-retired pastor of Fox Hill Lutheran Church, had no desire to travel with her. When all her relatives gather, it’s like the feeding of the 5,000; only instead of loaves and fish, it’s tuna hot dish and jello salads – tables full of tuna hot dish and every imaginable flavor of jello salad. But this year, because of the coronavirus pandemic, it was going to be catered.  Catered!!

Judy couldn’t believe it, so she still whipped up several batches of her famous Pillsbury biscuits because everybody knows that good biscuits can power you through any family gathering. In the Martin home there is a regular liturgy to the serving of the warm biscuits, fresh out of the oven. As Judy brings them to the table, the whole family sings the popular jingle:

Judy begins by singing – “Here come the biscuits.”

David and the girls respond – “Pillsbury power!”

“Here come the biscuits – Pillsbury power!” 

“Well, if your family’s tried them, they’re powered by Pillsbury biscuits. You’ll never try Bisquick again.”

It’s very popular in Fox Hill anyway. 

So, when she showed up at the Krueger family reunion with them, they just thought she was crazy. But, despite COVID-19 concerns, they sure did devour those biscuits!

Because of all the rain, they had to move into the hall of the largest Lutheran Church in the United States so they could safely distance. However, the Krueger relatives remained undaunted. They are of hardy Northern European stock, dontcha know, and have been through hard times before and the weather only reminded them of the old country. I think the weather contributes highly in determining Lutheran disposition. Gray and overcast – yep, that certainly describes the congregation at Fox Hill Lutheran anyhow: a sullen, cheerless group, prone to jump to hasty judgements. Smiles are seldom seen. You associate a smiley face more with sunshine, like you might get in Spain, southern France or Italy.

Pastor Martin wondered if the flock at Our Lady of Desperate Hope across town smiles more than the Lutherans. “But,” he thought to himself as he looked over the frowns and stares of the Fox Hill Lutherans on Sundays, “you can’t change the weather.” The church had chosen, as it turned out, the nicest day of the month to hold their annual parish picnic spread throughout the church parking lot, because the town park on Lake Madsen had been closed. With pandemic fear and being unaccustomed to sunshine, only 33 Lutherans, dazed and exposing skin so blanched you would have though it was winter in Norway, dared to attend. Vicar Lena, the student intern, wasn’t surprised however. She remembered her mother saying, “It never rains on the Lutherans.” But that must have referred to New Jersey Lutherans!

Yet, as much less than 5,000 people arrived, out of innocent-looking picnic baskets came a feast so grand you couldn’t believe your eyes. Hamburgers, bratwurst, and chicken sizzled on the Webbers. And spread on the folding tables were baked beans, macaroni salads, bowls of fruit, brownies, pies and cheese doodles (Pastor Martin’s favorite!). Not one jello mold was to be seen. You’ve heard it said, “A good time was had by all” and that sure was true. They played seven rounds of Bingo, enjoyed tailgate visiting and nobody could beat Pastor Martin in horseshoes on the side lawn of the church.

But the real miracle of the day came when a beat up, old Ford pickup truck pulled into the parking lot and out climbed old man Ferguson. He hadn’t been to church in years and never talked to anyone in town, yet here he came to the picnic – with a platter full of two dozen biscuits. All conversation silenced. The horseshoe players stopped pitching. Even the children ceased running around.

And as he approached the serving table, Mr. Ferguson began to sing:

“Here come the biscuits.” And the entire congregation responded – “Pillsbury power!”

“Here come the biscuits – Pillsbury power!” 

Together they sang: “Well, if your family’s tried them, they’re powered by Pillsbury biscuits. You’ll never try Bisquick again.”

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, “I just wanted to make sure they were warm.”

Everyone ate to their fill, and still one biscuit was left over. Mr. Ferguson took it in his hands, broke it in half and said, “You know, there wouldn’t be a church picnic today if it weren’t for my sainted mother.” Everyone made a circle of chairs around him as he shared the story of the day Enid Ferguson saved the church picnic.

“The Rev. Ole Olson was the pastor of Fox Hill Lutheran 75 years ago when he decided it would be a great idea to have a parish picnic on the shore of Lake Madsen. Pastor Olson was full of great ideas, but a bit lax on organization. He announced the picnic from the pulpit for two weeks prior to the event and everybody in our small congregation attended. But he never thought to tell people to bring anything, and they came expecting that the church elders were hosting the picnic. So, quite the opposite of today, there’s 100 people and no food for them to eat.

But mother never went anywhere without food. She had been experimenting with a new brand of flour for biscuits, so she had baked up three dozen and brought them with her to the gathering. When Rev. Olson saw all the hungry people, he realized his mistake and began quoting Scripture: ‘Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?’ And I yelled out, ‘My mom has three dozen biscuits!’

Pastor Olson, eyes glazed over as if in a trance, invited everyone to sit down. The biscuits were cut in half, huckleberries from bushes along the lakeshore were picked and crushed into a jam and everyone ate to their satisfaction.” (WOW!) “That’s not all,” Mr. Ferguson continued.

“Pastor Olson also had the idea that we should start an annual tradition of a Father-Son baseball game at the picnic. Teams were divided up, but nobody had brought a bat or a ball. A dead branch was broken off a tree to use for a bat and Pastor Olson asked, ‘Where are we to find a ball to play baseball?’ And I yelled out, ‘My mom has a biscuit left over!’ And that biscuit served as a ball not only for that game but for the following year’s game as well.” (WOW!) “That’s not all,” Mr. Ferguson continued.

“Rev. Olson was the catcher for the Father’s team and I was batting for the Son’s. I swung hard, the bat left my hands and smashed into the pastor’s left shin bone. Lacking any protective gear, he crumpled in pain and quite an ugly welt was rising on his leg. Pastor Olson cried out, ‘Where can we find a compress for my shin?’ And I yelled, “My mom still has a biscuit left over!’ We cut the biscuit in half and placed it over the purple egg on the pastor’s shin. Who would have known then that an egg and biscuit would become such a popular breakfast sandwich!’ Ja sure, everyone laughed.” 

Mr. Ferguson said, “But that’s not all. Pastor Olson wanted to have a communion worship service at the conclusion of the picnic, but of course, he had not planned to bring the elements for the eucharist. There was enough juice left over from the crushed huckleberries to use for wine. Then Pastor Olson asked, ‘Where are we to find bread for this holy supper?’ And I yelled out, ‘My mom has five biscuits left over!’ Rev. Olson took the biscuits, blessed and broke them and all 100 Lutherans communed on the five loaves.”

The Fox Hill Lutheran picnickers were spellbound by Mr. Ferguson’s story. “And that,” he finished,” is how Enid Ferguson saved the parish picnic. She returned home and began baking and selling Enid Ferguson’s Multipurpose Pillsbury Biscuits with the slogan, “They give you the power to do everything!”

It rained again last Sunday in Fox Hill as the Lutheran folk heard at worship the story of Jesus’ miraculous feeding of the 5,000 with only five loaves and two fish. At least 33 of them are thinking about last week’s picnic on the parking lot and the fantastic story told by Mr. Ferguson. And, despite the weather and their Lutheran heritage, smiles of joy and gratitude for God’s miraculous providence were breaking across their faces. What they couldn’t see was that, in the very back of the choir loft behind them sat old Mr. Ferguson with a biscuit in his hands. And he was smiling too.

And that’s the Good News from Fox Hill, where faith really matters for every single man, woman, and child; oh, and the married ones too. AMEN.