What child hasn’t thrilled to hear a story read to them? What child, once enthralled with a
particular story, hasn’t begged to hear it read again . . . and again . . . and again . . . Why is it
that they seem to never tire of hearing the same familiar words over and over? Maybe it’s
because in their world where everything is forever a new discovery, this repeated pattern
brings a sense of security and the ‘known.’ Let’s face it, we all love story, whether one read to
us, or related to us, in a book we read ourselves, in film, or on the live stage. And who among us
hasn’t re-read or re-watched a favorite, maybe multiple times, maybe with ongoing plans to
read or watch yet again? The print and film industries owe their very existence to our enduring
love of story. Each new book, each new film, hopes to catch our imagination and get us
gossiping enthusiastically to friends about our latest discovery, their next ‘must read’, their next
‘must watch’.
Of all the book genres, autobiography is the one carrying genuine, lived emotion, relating
intimate, behind the scenes truths, heartwarming small details, endearing anecdotes, insider
perspective. (I’ll pass on the tell-all, blistering attacks, the exposés, the rants, which are more
about revenge than telling one’s life story). More gripping yet, is the in-person, spoken
testimony, one’s journey up to this point, the funny bits, the sad bits, the dramatic bits, as well
as the bits in-between. A Christian testimony brings together all the knotty human threads
interwoven with strands of divine perfection in a sometimes comical, off-kilter dance. This
honesty, this vulnerability, this sharing of surprised gratitude can resonate in listening hearts to
a degree few other things can.
I picture Jesus’ ‘off camera’ moments with his disciples chock-a-block with unabashed stories of
his simple childhood, his small village where everyone knew everyone, his patient, carpenter
father and Jesus’ own early, bumbling efforts at carpentry, his siblings, as well as insider info
about his Heavenly Father that we’ll not get to hear until we see him face to face (lucky
disciples!). As this band of friends became more aware of Jesus’ divinity, seeing the miracles,
the healings, the Transfiguration! and finally his crucifixion and resurrection, all those early
tales and details would have filled in Jesus’ story for them in a wild, whodathunkit, but
strangely satisfying, way. It would, I’m thinking, have provided the impetus for them to share
their own stories, seeing that oral tradition was a long-standing part of their culture. Wouldn’t
it be great to bring that tradition back? We could be sharing our journeys with one another,
with the highs and lows, the victories and the less-than-victories, the crazy stuff and the
stunning, ‘Jesus loves me’ stuff; encouragements for all of us along the way in this new year. So,
who wants to go first? PD
