The Power of Storytelling

First published in The Daily Sentinel, Friday, March 7, 2008


One of my favorite old hymns is “Tell Me the Stories of Jesus.” Actually, as far as hymns go, it’s not all that old. The words were penned by William H. Parker in 1885, and the music was written by Frederic A. Challinor in 1903. So that’s just over a century ago. “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” another of my favorites, was written by Charles Wesley back in the 18th century – almost 300 years ago!

What those hymns have in common is the quality of their story-telling. “Tell Me the Stories” mentions special moments of Jesus’ life: the gathering of the children around Jesus for blessing, the marching into Jerusalem waving palm branches as Jesus rode on the back of a donkey. Through this song, we are transported back in time, imagining ourselves in that place – receiving Jesus’ blessing on our heads, joining the crowd in shouting triumphantly that Jesus is King!

“Hark!” puts us in the shepherds’ fields as the angels proclaimed Jesus’ birth, telling us the story that resonates through the ages: “Mild he lays his glory by, born that man no more may die. Born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth. Hark! The herald angels sing, ‘Glory to the newborn king.’”

Storytelling is powerful. I rediscovered the power of stories this week as I read a book given to me last Christmas: “Listening is an Act of Love” edited by Dave Isay. This book is a collection of stories recorded by the StoryCorps Project, a non-profit organization dedicated to recording the stories of ordinary Americans. With a portable studio-quality recording booth, StoryCorps travels around the country and lets people come together for a conversation. Generally, people come in pairs, grandmother and grand-daughter, father and son, close friends, etc., but occasionally a person comes alone. All of them come to StoryCorps to share their lives – telling stories of who they are and where they have been.

Some of these stories air on National Public Radio’s “Morning Edition” on Fridays, and they have become one of the most popular features of the most popular morning radio program in the country. Why are these stories so popular? Because they reveal to us aspects of the human spirit that cross all boundaries of gender, generation, class, and geography. Stories from New York City can resonate with folks like us in Appalachia. Our stories can ring true to people in the wilds of Montana and in the smog of Los Angeles.

Here is an example: Joseph Dittmar is from Chicago, but he was in New York City for business meetings on September 11, 2001. His meeting was with people on the 105th floor of the South Tower of the World Trade Center. He arrived at 8:30 a.m. At 8:48, the lights flickered. No one thought much about it – then a volunteer fire marshall for the company came into the room and announced that an explosion had just happened in the North Tower and they were being asked to evacuate.

Joseph Dittmar described the reluctance of the people to abandon their meeting. They were more aggravated than anything else. They entered the fire escapes and started walking down the mountain of stairs towards the bottom of the building. At the 90th floor, the fire escape door was propped open and people were walking out of the stairwell.

“It became pretty evident what people were doing,” said Dittmar. “It wound up being probably the thirty to forty worst seconds of my life because it was the first opportunity we had to see the North Tower in an unbelievable state of tumult. The plumes of smoke five, six, seven stories high. Flame redder than anything you’ve seen before, and the fire just spilling out of the building. It was a beautiful clear day, and we clearly saw through the smoke and flames the signs of the fuselage of a plane. We saw the paper and the furniture and the people falling from the building, and it was an unbelievably gruesome sight. And I thought to myself, ‘I’m not going to stay here.’”

Dittmar continues to vividly recall the rest of the events of that day – the heroics of the firefighters and police that they met around the 30th floor, the constant encouragement people gave to one another as they struggled down the thousands of steps, the shock of impact when the second plane hit the South Tower, the escape out of the building moments before it collapsed.

Reading Dittmar’s first-person account of 9/11 put me back in touch with my own feelings on that terrible day almost seven years ago. I felt his anguish, empathized with his unanswerable question: “why did I escape when so many others died?” The power of the story made those experiences real for me, even though I wasn’t there.

The stories of the Bible do the same thing for us. When we read about Elijah’s struggles with depression and fear as he ran from King Ahab and Queen Jezebel, we discover God’s presence in the midst of trouble. When we read about Jonah and great fish, we learn what its like to run away from God – and how God never stops pursuing those He loves. And when we read about Jesus’ agony on the cross, we are brought face-to-face with the God who goes beyond the pale in taking on the pain of sin and separation so that we can come home to God.

Dittmer described his homecoming back to Chicago: “I called my wife for the thousandth time and I said, ‘Where are you?’ She said, ‘I’m just getting ready to go to church because they’re having a service. I’ll just wait for you if you’re getting close.’ I said, ‘No, no, today’s a good day to go to church. It’s a good place to be. I’ll meet you there.’

“I walked into the back of the church and opened the door into the sanctuary. This place was just packed. These hundreds of people in the church were all staring back at me because they knew what just had occurred. I looked over to the right – to the pew where we always sit, and there was my wife, and there were my kids and my family and my friends.

“My wife’s real non-demonstrative, real quiet, and she jumped over the back of the pew and ran to the back of the church and gave me this gigantic hug and kiss. And I knew that I was home. I was home.”

I invite you to come to church and hear again the power of stories. Let’s discover anew that we are home together through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.