Our Life Story

Episcopalians are not generally known for our ability to recite extensive passages of Scripture from memory. Even for those who grew up faithfully attending Sunday School; even for those who faithfully attend Bible study as adults, Bible memorization is generally not a priority. And I’m not suggesting that it should be; in that sort of exercise the verses may be memorized, but they are often devoid of meaning or context. But interestingly enough, today’s Old Testament reading from Deuteronomy was one I was required to memorize in seminary. The whole passage. It’s that important. "A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in number…"

Not only is this one of the really foundational passages in the Hebrew Scriptures, it is a story that must be told. Not just read or recorded. But heard, learned and told, passed on to others, passed on to the next generation. In a sense we might think of it as the spiritual autobiography of the people of God. Some of you may have had the experience of writing and possibly telling your spiritual autobiography. It can be a very rewarding exercise. Although it is based on an odd premise. We have a regular autobiography that is separate or different from our spiritual autobiography? We have to be reminded or prodded to include God in the telling of our individual life stories? Are we really unaware that all autobiography is spiritual autobiography? We often do need to be reminded to look for God in our life stories, which is why it is a good exercise to reflect upon and write your spiritual autobiography.

The early Hebrew people did not need to be reminded that God was a part of their corporate life story. This passage from Deuteronomy is part of a worship service. We might say the words are from a much, much, much earlier Book of Common Prayer. They are words the people said as they came together in worship to offer God in thanksgiving the first fruits of the harvest. Within that liturgy, these words fill the roll of the creed. The creed… the confession of faith. The people of early Israel confessed their faith by telling the story of their life, beginning in this case with Jacob, the wandering Aramean. The people, as a people, as a community, confessed their faith by telling the story of their life, by recounting their communal spiritual autobiography.

I’ve wondered sometimes if it would work… how it would work… for a parish, as a community, to come together and write the community’s spiritual autobiography. Not the parish history. I’ve read lots of those; they are usually a timeline of rectors and building projects. Interesting and certainly part of a parish’s common life. But could a parish, as a body, as a community, perceive and write the story of their common life shared with God? God heard us… God showed us… God brought us to this place…

Back to Deuteronomy. Bernhard Anderson, who taught Old Testament for years at Princeton, writes: "Notice that the individual worshipper who uses this liturgical form identifies with the story, as indicated by the use of plural pronouns: the Egyptians treated "us" harshly, God brought "us" out, and gave "us" this land, and so forth. Private stories (autobiographies) are interesting, but do not create community. Stories of a people, however—for instance, the people of the United States—inculcate a sense of communal identity." Telling the stories of a people create community, a sense of communal identity, among the people.

"Elsewhere in the book of Deuteronomy storytelling is recommended ‘when children ask’ why the Israelite community believes in God or engages in certain practices (Deut. 6:20-25). The best answer to questions about the faith of the community is to tell the story that the people share and cherish."

"The Christian community has adopted and adapted this storytelling theology; storytelling was characteristic of the Christian church right from the first. Early Christian preaching… was not an argument for the existence of God or an appeal to live by lofty ethical principles: it was simply a recital of ‘the great events’ associated with the appearance of Jesus of Nazareth and a ‘confession of what had happened to the community of disciples.’"

The great events associated with the appearance of Jesus of Nazareth and a confession of what happened to the community of disciples. This is our life story. This is our confession of faith. All of us who are part of the Body of Christ… no matter what our individual histories may be… both the substance of our faith and the source of our common identity come from this story. When the children ask, when your neighbors wonder why we believe and what we believe and why we live the way we do… tell the story. Tell our life story. The story that we, as a people, as the Christian community, cherish. The story of Jesus’ coming and how Jesus’ life affected the lives of our ancestors and continues to affect the life of our community.

The story is our confession of faith. And the story is what makes us a community. The life story of the Christian people, the Body of Christ, unites us. And telling the story builds an awareness of our common identity at the deepest level. No matter what road led us here. No matter what road led us to Christ. No matter where our individual journeys may lead. We share the story, the old, old story of Jesus and his love. It is our faith; it is our story.

Can you tell that story? Whether or not you can recite from memory Biblical phrases by chapter and verse, we need to know the story of Jesus’ life… the great events of that life… and its effect on the community of disciples. Lent is a good time to let the story steep in our lives. It is a time to read and re-acquaint ourselves with our life story. We are in the liturgical year in our common worship life that focuses on Luke’s gospel. Read and re-read Luke and Acts this Lent. May the story permeate our common life. May it shape our faith and bind us together.

Our life story as Christians goes something like this:

Our ancestors were shepherds. And one night when their souls were filled with cold and lonely darkness, suddenly the glory of God came to them. The darkness was filled with pure light and the lonely stillness was filled with the song of God’s angels who told us that our Savior, the Christ was born in the City of David. And we rejoiced.

The child Jesus grew in wisdom and we wondered at his teaching.

When we looked upon Jesus, we saw God. When we heard Jesus, we heard God. When Jesus touched us, we felt God’s healing peace. Fishermen, shepherds, the mighty and the poor, rabbis and tax collectors. We followed him and we became a people who knew God through him. And he commissioned us to share in his ministry. And Jesus and his people walked together.

He invited us, and we sat at his table. When Jesus broke the bread, he said to us, this is my holy Body, given for you. Do this in remembrance of me. And when he blessed the cup, he said, this is my holy Blood, poured out for you. Do this in remembrance of me. We ate together and we were made holy.

But our sin was strong, and in our fear and in our pride, we crucified Jesus. Then we were dead.

But into our death Jesus the Christ brought God’s own eternal life and said to us: peace. The darkness of our own sin is still strong, but now we know that the light of God’s life is stronger. And now this day he says to us, "Go and make disciples of all people, and lo, I am with you, even to the end of the age."