We are all made of stories – Mary-Anne Rulfs
It’s been said before …. We are all made of stories. This is to be human.
I was deeply moved by the story Bowen told so powerfully last week about Dr Ambedkar, the Indian man responsible for writing the nation’s constitution in 1950. And about the way that, over time, seeds intentionally sown today can effect meaningful change down the track.
Each of us is a storyteller, uniquely expressing who we are, in our own way. Our lives are shaped by the way we interpret and make meaning from the stories we tell and the stories we hear. Every day, the stories we tell ourselves and tell others, and the stories we hear from others, help make us who we are.
We give and receive stories through song, poetry, drama, movies, novels, social and digital media, visual arts, newsfeeds and conversations with family, friends and strangers. Some stories are simply entertaining, flippant, funny even. These stories can be so very welcome in our sometimes very unsmiling world!
Other stories have serious intent, with a timely message or challenge. Stories may carry cultural meaning in their telling of origins and traditions. They may use metaphor or satire to speak a prophetic message. They may recount a journey of grief and loss as a pathway to making meaning.
Our stories matter!
Over the last year or so we have read some profound life + faith stories shared from people in our parish communities. Stories to encourage and bring to life who God is in the lives of others.
Last time I used this introduction for a blog piece (in case your’re thinking … ‘haven’t I read this before?’) was to share the origin story of Anglicare as I heard it told at last year’s clergy conference.
This week, I want to draw attention to the profound nature of the episodes of The Story we enter into on Palm Sunday and journey with through Holy Week until Easter Sunday and beyond.
Stories have the power to change us. This story more than any other.
The core beliefs of our Christian faith are held in this story. And the essence of what it means to be human, encountering the cycle in life of suffering, death and resurrection…
What is the story about? And why does it matter? These are questions for you to answer as you consider the story and the way it intersects with your life.
For me, it is about humility. The Son of God, Messiah, arrived in Jerusalem – on a donkey.
And yet, it wasn’t a false humility. Jesus’ humility as a human being was the hallmark of his divine nature. And Jesus found confidence in that. Confidence to know that even if the people were to fall silent (by order, ironically, of the religious leaders or, more predictably, by the Roman overlords) creation itself would cry out in recognition of the king who came to serve – exemplified by washing his disciples feet, of all things – with love.
Humility before Pilate. Humility on the cross …
Power over another to control is not the power we see in Jesus.
The power of this humble servant king, Messiah and lord of all, was the power of love. The power of love to heal, forgive and make whole … the power of love that makes the ordinary sacred. And brings freedom.
We are all made of stories. This is to be human, and a pathway for sharing the presence of God who came in humility and love to redeem and make whole, not only our stories, but our very lives. To be witnesses in our world of resurrection life.
It was at a youth fellowship Easter camp as a 14 year old that I gained the quiet confidence to be the minister’s kid who really did love Jesus. And that remained my story – no great deviations, although life was often far from easy and absolutely no bed of roses. I’m grateful I can tell that story, as ordinary and unspectacular as it is. How I respond by allowing myself to be transformed by immersing myself in the Easter story this year is a story waiting to be told.
For you and me both, I wonder how we might emerge from immersing ourselves in The Story during our Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday journey this year? What transformation awaits us?
Grace and peace,
Mary-Anne