"Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing" (1 Thessalonians 5:11). Discouragement does not always come from disaster. Very often it comes from people: a careless word, a cold silence, a complaint that nothing is ever good enough.
These three stories about discouragement, retold in our own words, look at three ways we can drain the courage out of others: by failing to show gratitude, by refusing to be pleased, and by criticising in a way that crushes. Each ends with a takeaway for preaching or reflection. If the first story makes you curious about the Greek myths, Sopranu's review of Homer's Iliad, where an early version of this fall appears, is a good place to start.
Stories in this post:
- The Fall of Vulcan: Wounded by Indifference
- Not Much of a Dog: The Neighbour Who Could Not Be Pleased
- "I Have No Word From the Lord": A Harsh Evaluation
The Fall of Vulcan: Wounded by Indifference
This is a myth, not a historical story. We use the Roman names given in the original illustration. In Greek myth the same figures are Hephaestus, Zeus and Hera, and versions of the fall appear in Homer.
Ancient mythology tells the sad tale of Vulcan, the son of Jupiter and Juno, the king and queen of the gods. Vulcan was deeply attached to his mother, all the more because Jupiter's unfaithful and abusive ways caused her so much pain. Vulcan showered her with affection and tried to comfort her whenever she suffered from Jupiter's neglect.
One day, after Juno had flown into a jealous rage, Jupiter punished her by hanging her out of heaven, held only by a golden chain. Vulcan was horrified by his mother's plight. He grabbed hold of the chain and, pulling with all his strength, dragged Juno back into heaven. He was about to set her free when Jupiter returned.
Furious that his son had interfered in what he regarded as a matter between husband and wife, Jupiter seized Vulcan and hurled him out of heaven.
The distance between heaven and earth was so great that Vulcan's fall lasted a whole day and a whole night. When he finally hit the earth, he injured one of his legs, and he was left lame and deformed for the rest of his life.
But it was not the fall that hurt Vulcan most. It was his mother's response. He had risked everything to rescue her, yet she never made the slightest effort to find out whether he had reached the earth safely. Wounded by her indifference and ingratitude, Vulcan vowed he would never return to Olympus. He withdrew into the solitude of Mount Etna, where, the stories say, he worked his forge in the fire of the volcano.
The myth captures something very human. Some of our deepest wounds come not from what people do to us, but from what they fail to do. Feeling unappreciated and unvalued can leave lasting scars, and generally the closer we are to the person who does not value us, the deeper the cut. One of the great disciplines of any relationship, then, is learning to express gratitude: to notice the goodness and kindness of others, to appreciate what they do, and to tell them so. In the myth, Vulcan's whole future might have been different if his mother had simply shown some gratitude.
Takeaway: Of the ten men Jesus healed of leprosy, only one came back to say thank you, and Jesus noticed the nine who did not (Luke 17:11 to 19). Ingratitude discourages people who have given much. A word of thanks costs us almost nothing and can heal a great deal. Who has made a sacrifice for you recently that you have not yet acknowledged?
Source: Scott Higgins. Mythological details from H. A. Guerber, Myths of Greece and Rome.
Not Much of a Dog: The Neighbour Who Could Not Be Pleased
There was once an optimistic farmer who could hardly wait to greet each new day with a cheerful "Good morning, God!" He lived next to a woman whose morning greeting sounded more like "Good God... morning?"
They were a constant trial to each other. Where he saw opportunity, she saw problems. Where he was satisfied, she was discontented.
One bright morning he called out, "Look at that beautiful sky! Did you see that glorious sunrise?"
"Yeah," she replied. "It'll probably get so hot the crops will scorch!"
During an afternoon shower he said, "Isn't this wonderful? Mother Nature is giving the corn a drink today!"
"And if it doesn't stop soon," came the sour reply, "we'll wish we'd taken out flood insurance on the crops!"
Convinced that he could stir some awe and wonder in her hardened heart, the farmer bought a remarkable dog. It was not just any dog. It was the most expensive, highly trained and gifted dog he could find. The animal could perform amazing, even impossible, feats, and surely, he thought, it would impress even his neighbour. So he invited her over to watch the dog perform.
"Fetch!" he commanded, throwing a stick out into the lake, where it bobbed up and down on the rippling water. The dog bounded after the stick, walked across the surface of the water, picked it up and brought it back.
"What do you think of that?" he asked, beaming.
She frowned. "Not much of a dog," she said. "Can't even swim, can he?"
Takeaway: Some people are so set on finding fault that even a miracle will not satisfy them. Jesus met people like that. When John the Baptist fasted, they said he had a demon, and when Jesus ate and drank, they called him a glutton (Luke 7:31 to 35). Constant negativity wears down everyone around it. Do the people closest to you hear more about what is wrong than about what is wonderful?
Source: Author unknown. A widely told humorous story.
"I Have No Word From the Lord": A Harsh Evaluation
Scott Higgins, who tells this story, says he does not know whether it is true or a legend.
The story is told of a theological college in Sydney, many years ago, where a final-year student was preparing to preach to the students and the faculty in chapel. At that time it was the custom for the faculty to critique the sermon afterwards, in front of everyone.
On this particular morning, when the student, a Mr Jones, had finished preaching, the principal of the college stood up to give his verdict. "Mr Jones," he said, "would have done better to stand up this morning and say, 'I have no word from the Lord,' and then sit down again."
Scott Higgins, who passed on this story, admits he is still not sure whether it is true or a legend. He does not know what happened to the young man, or whether he went on to become a pastor. But he suspects that those words rang in the student's ears like a death sentence every time he stood up to speak in public again. Perhaps the sermon really did need critique. But not like that.
Takeaway: Honest feedback is a gift, but crushing words can discourage a person for years. Paul tells us to speak the truth in love (Ephesians 4:15) and to let only what is helpful for building others up come out of our mouths (Ephesians 4:29). The goal of criticism is to help someone grow, not to make them shrink. The next time you need to correct someone, how could you say it in a way that leaves them wanting to try again?
Source: Scott Higgins.
Final thoughts
A son ignored by the mother he rescued, a neighbour no miracle could impress, and a young preacher flattened by a single sentence. These stories about discouragement show how easily we can drain the courage out of the people around us, often without meaning to.
The good news is that the opposite is just as easy. A word of thanks, a little delight in what is good, a piece of honest feedback given with care: each of these can put courage back into someone. Who needs you to be an encourager this week?
More stories you may like:
These stories are retold in our own words for teaching and reflection. Sources are credited under each story.
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