Fifth Sunday in Epiphany

Directions: Your Story—I Corinthians 9: 16-23; Mark 1: 29-39

            Years ago, a friend’s dad was trying to tell me a funny joke he had heard. Knowing his dad, I anticipated it would be off color. It’s been awhile, so I don’t remember exactly how it goes. I do remember that there was a priest, a bandit, and a politician walking into a bar, then at some point they go out. But what I do remember is that after two of three movements of the group, my friend’s dad stopped for a second and said…”Anyway…” and changed the topic. I asked why he did that, and the reply was, “I’m old. I forgot the punchline. I’ll remember it in a minute.” It’s been 23 years, and I’m still waiting for that punchline. Truth be told he was never much of a story teller

            In many societies, storytelling is a common practice for sharing entertainment, sharing family history, finding a common bond, and learning something new. It’s storytelling that kept the faith alive for the Hebrew people as they shared the stories of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Moses down over the years so that each new generation knew of the great leaders of the people and the faith. We hear this idea of storytelling and faith woven together in hymns like, “Tell Me the Story of Jesus,” and “We’ve a Story to Tell to the Nations,” as well as “I Love to Tell the Story.”

            At the table each Sunday we tell the story again of how Jesus sacrificed himself to give us life and hope. It’s a story with power and holiness attached to it. But there’s something tangible as well. As the hymn says, “Taste and see that God is good.” We don’t just hear the story of God’s love, we take physical, touchable reminders of that love and sacrifice as well.

            Much of this faith we live is bound up in stories. We, too, hear the stories of Joseph’s overcoming, David’s strength, Jonah’s disobedience, and Jesus’s miracles, love, and teaching. We hear these stories with a purpose, and that purpose is to affect and change our lives and behavior. Gospel stories and Biblical narratives are an opportunity to hear of God’s goodness and be changed by it in some way. We must never squander that opportunity.

            But each one of us has a story as well. And there is a collective wisdom, history, and knowledge in this church that can tell powerful stories of faith and overcoming, of how God and the Good Word helped and led in times of trouble or suffering in life. Your story is important too because it tells of how we live in relationship to God’s love and a very confusing modern society here and now.

            Now please don’t shriek in horror and dread of what I just said. The Bible is still the authoritative book on God, faith, and Christ’s love, but it’s your stories of life which teach the practical application to others. This is exactly what Paul did—he made the story of Christ adaptable. He writes in I Corinthians:

When I was with the Jews, I lived like a Jew to bring the Jews to Christ. When I was with those who follow the Jewish law, I too lived under that law. Even though I am not subject to the law, I did this so I could bring to Christ those who are under the law. When I am with the Gentiles who do not follow the Jewish law, I too live apart from that law so I can bring them to Christ. But I do not ignore the law of God; I obey the law of Christ. When I am with those who are weak, I share their weakness, for I want to bring the weak to Christ. Yes, I try to find common ground with everyone, doing everything I can to save some. I do everything to spread the Good News and share in its blessings. I Cor. 9: 20-23.

 

            To those of us who grew up hearing that the truth of God’s word never changes, these words by Paul might seem somewhat scandalous at first glance. He said what?? But if you read closely, it is not the truth of Paul’s message which changes, it’s the context and application. Paul writes that he tries to find some common ground with every group he meets, first to be a decent person and second to make sure the story of faith he shares is relevant, appropriate, and finding a context which resonates with the hearer.

            I remember a youth pastor who came to speak to my high school youth group’s camp. He had finished up a few years of youth ministry in the inner city in Camden, New Jersey. He had learned how to adapt and work with the tough local youth. One young man wanted to pray for the first time. He was a gang-banger with a tough reputation who was struggling with life and faith. The pastor told him just to pray to God as if God is his friend. The young man started, “Sup bruh…” which was followed by a string of cusswords, so the pastor had to interrupt and reorient the young man to pray as if it were his grandmother. Sometimes context is very important to understanding.

            Understanding the context of your calling, your sharing, your stories of faith is important. Even in a small church like this, there are stories of faith and experience that can help folks so much, especially those who are trying to change direction and find their way in life. Here we have people who can tell of living with a loved one who is in decline or has an impairment. We have people who can tell of coping with and finding faith in the midst of a struggle with mental illness. We have people who can tell of overcoming tough physical medical issues. We have stories of navigating toxic people in life and families; stories of starting over alone either by choice or because you just have to keep on, and stories of living in America when you look differently, speak differently, or remember a time of segregation that few in the younger generation would understand or appreciate.

            All of these stories are important to share because they teach us, especially our youth, how to live a faithful life in hard times. If you don’t believe me, just look at the Golden Girls. Forty years later, if you mention a St. Olaf story or you say, “Picture it—Sicily—1916,” everyone knows what you’re talking about. So, the question for us, as God’s people, is this: who are we telling our stories to? Sometimes we’re a bit quick to give tough advice and often times give it unsolicited. But we don’t tell the stories that will inspire, encourage, and uplift. My mom could have told me 1,000 times that I needed to go get a good education and make something of myself, but no teenager was going to listen. What I did listen to, however, was the story of how Nana set sail for America at 18 by herself because she loved a soldier boy and thought she could do a bit better for herself here.

            Even Jesus tells the importance of sharing our stories in his own example. In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus says, ““We must go on to other towns as well, and I will preach to them, too. That is why I came.” So he traveled throughout the region of Galilee, preaching in the synagogues and casting out demons.” Jesus often offered words of wisdom, but when the people really needed help, Jesus told a story. He told of a Good Samaritan, a prodigal son, wheat and chaff, fruit bearing trees, mustard seeds, and so much more.

            How often do you tell your stories to others, and especially the harder stories of your life? We have a bit of a “we don’t talk about such things” attitude in society, but what if we did share? Imagine if we sat down with the teenager or young adult in our lives and, instead of saying to them how bad their decisions are, we said, “When I was 17, I made a bad decision, here’s the story and how it affected me.” What if we were honest, vulnerable, and invited conversation, just like Jesus did, when people needed to find a new direction, needed healing and help, or needed to go and sin no more. Perhaps an even tougher question is when was the last time we shared stories of a church that welcomes and loves, heals and helps, and has a pretty fantastic congregation of folks?

            You might be a bit of messy storyteller and joke deliverer like my friend’s father. But when it comes to stories of faith, that’s okay. You don’t have to be Mark Twain or Agatha Christie to tell a powerful story. You simply need the heart, the love, and the faith. The question is not how great of a story can you tell to help those in need, but instead, the question is found in the last verse of our last hymn: “’Are ye able?’ still the Master whispers down eternity, and heroic spirits answer now, as then, in Galilee.” Amen.

 Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/405487718805961