I love good stories! I love them in movies, books, songs, whatever. Some stories are feel good stories, some are stories that make you feel deep emotions like sadness or anger. I don’t like stories that seem to be meaningless or ones that are just there. Even a show that wasn’t really about anything was about a lot of things. The Seinfeld experience was about the stories of four people engaging in life that was unexpected and often times hilariously messy.
I hate when I watch a movie and it appears that story was the last thing in mind when the script was being written. Bigger explosions or goofier scenarios that don’t end up taking the viewer anywhere, anger me. I feel like I’ve been cheated of my time by these type of stories. I feel like I engaged and showed interest only to see something blow up, or something meet some visual design, or be momentarily funny and yet be completely and utterly meaningless. That’s not a good feeling.
Well, with that kind of love of story, it’s not any real surprise that many folks refer to me as less of preacher and more of a story-teller. I love that designation. My boys recently started watching the old Jim Henson project called “The Storyteller” on Netflix. It’s an old man who tells magical and mystical stories. I would love to be that guy!
I got to thinking about my penchant for stories and telling good ones recently while reading the Antioch story in Acts 11. This city was powerful, wealthy, influential and very metro. It had a bit of everything and in this chapter we see that it also had the presence of the Church. That may be a little understated. The Church in Antioch was not only present in the city it was telling a story that was changing lives in huge ways.
Here’s a people that we know very little about. We don’t know what their missional outreach was. We don’t know who was the pastor of the local home groups. We don’t know what their bulletins looked like or what musical style they preferred. We don’t know their theological orientation or whether they were a conservative or liberal church. What we do know is that their presence was so tangible that the city jokesters started teasing them for their behavior. Their story was so different and so apparent that it was effecting change that made some uncomfortable. Remember, we don’t have their sermons, we only have their story. How cool is that?
I heard a story recently about a little boy in 1952 that went on a trip to Mississippi for a visit with relatives. While there he did what normal little boys do – got into mischief. This little kid whistled at someone – kinda like a catcall or something. Today that happens all the time, it’s still creepy, but it happens and usually nothing is done about it. Well this little boy and this time was very different. First the little boy was African-American and second, he whistled at the wife of a white business man. The boy was tortured and killed for “whistling.” During his funeral, his mother wanted his beaten and disfigured little body to be seen by the world – the story that was being told had to change! The little boy’s name was Emmett Till and his murder is what many believe sparked the energy for the Civil Rights movement.
It’s a horrible story! It’s one that makes me just as uncomfortable to write as it does for you to read. It’s a story that inspired a movement to challenge how life was being lived (and yes, there is still much work to be done!). It inspired Rosa to sit on the front of a bus. It further inspired a man to speak and lead churches and write letters from jail and eventually be killed himself. Dr. King’s story was one that inspired change and his message is something that continues to inspire me – we change not by mere words but by words that are put into continuous action.
The church at Antioch understood that their story was better than what their city was living. They understood that something in them had changed. They had met a man who had died and came back to life so that true freedom could be experienced and shared. They met a man who didn’t just offer a trip to an altar rail but a trip to life to it’s fullest. They didn’t just follow a way to heaven or a way out of current distress, they followed one who would be with them, who shared their grief and gave purpose for today and tomorrow.
What story are we telling with our lives? Have we so encountered this same man that changed Antioch, and the rest of the world for that matter, that our very lives preach better than a 1000 sermons? Do we share Jesus everywhere we go and do those around us even tease us for being just like Jesus? Now, don’t confuse that with being super religious -that’s a very different thing all together. Do people see the story of our lives and say that’s Jesus’ story being told?
I sure hope that is the story I’m writing/living. How is your story being told?
Grace and Peace