The Stories That Stay

Michael Andres

Reading

The disciples came up and asked, “Why do you tell stories?”
Matthew 13:10 (The Message)

Reflection

What’s your favorite story?

Maybe it’s something from one of the books you’ve read with your kids recently, or maybe it’s a book you read somewhere along the way in school or picked up since. We all have someone in our lives who has probably been telling some version of the same story for as long as we’ve known them, and maybe it’s not your favorite but has become somewhat beloved. TV, film, comics, sculpture, music, math—all of these things tell a story in some way shape or form. Stories about us. People.

The best stories draw us in closer to one another—friends sitting around a fire or family around a table. They shrink the space of the table between us and make our coffee cups feel closer than they are. Stories open our eyes to things we’ve never seen, and open our souls to experiences we’ve never embarked upon for ourselves. Each of these tales point us back to the places within our humanity where there is common ground. Even if it’s just in the space and time of their telling.

Jesus was a master storyteller. He took common, everyday things, ordinary, everyday folks, and placed them within the context of heaven, a beautiful redemptive reality where nothing is lost, nothing is broken. He did this to help people imagine a world in the here and now we usually only dream about as we sleep or think about as we toil in our jobs. Stories help us see the world both as it is and as it can be. And that includes us.

Jesus’ storytelling was fundamentally different than how we try and communicate with one another in our most frequent interactions. It wasn’t about proving a point or winning an argument. Storytelling wasn’t about being right; it was about seeing ourselves and the world in new ways. It was opening and inclusive, not finite and divisive. His stories – parables – were designed to invite people into a posture of curiosity rather than agreement.

It’s in these stories, both then and now, that we are able to engage in the complexity of the human experience. In these stories, we are allowed to see ourselves as flawed yet beautiful, worth redeeming and in need of saving. A well-told story, whether it’s Jesus’ or someone else’s, doesn’t flatten us out into categories or sides. Instead, it reveals our depths, contradictions, and longings. It allows for mystery rather than certainty.

So what story do you tell about yourself…to yourself? To others?

What story might Jesus have to tell about you in this moment today, as you read this piece, as you make moves and plan your day? What doorways or pathways might God be opening for you through them? Will you follow?

PRAYER:
Great God of story,
Make us ready to receive your truth.
Open our eyes to see, our ears to hear, and our hearts to welcome.
Use our lives to tell stories which invite, heal, and make room for others.
Speak, now, Lord.
We’re listening.
AMEN.