conjectural navel gazing; jesus in lint form

healed, whole and holy - part one, I love to tell the story

L'Engle is an interesting woman. I am not sure what was going on in her life when she wrote this chapter, but she was very concerned that people in general were forgetting how to be creative, to create and appreciate art and religion. For her there is a misunderstanding of "growing up." It is not supposed to be about letting go of myth and story so that one might engage the world. Instead, it is a living more deply into story so that one might be a better adult and then witness to God's presence in the world. She says that this "letting go" is a sign of corruption akin to original sin: a loss of innocense. We must hold on to stories. They are spiritual identifiers. They hold truth in confidence for us. Any thing else is a sgn of corruption.

This attitude is a victory for the powers of the world. A friend of mine, a fine story-teller, remarked to me, "Jesus was not a theologian. He was God who told stories"...St. Matthew says, "And he spoke to them in parables and without a parble he did not speak to them."

When the powers of this world denegrate and deny the value of story, life loses much of its meaning; and for many people in the world today, life has lost its meaning...

A story can critique us in ways that can mold and shape. It is not simply our job to critique a story (say...a parable), but to allow ourselves to be open to be shaped by the story. I imagine that L'Engle might not be a great fan of the historical critical method gone to the extreme as some say it has with the Jesus Seminar.

For L'Engle, art, story, can teach us to be healers, servants, seekers of truth. Their loss does more than inhibit our ability to live into these roles, to be obedient to God. Their loss signifies a loss in ourselves, a spiritual amputation if you will, where our abilities to be creative and responsive to the world and not to just drown in it are dulled if not destroyed.

This made me think of a hymn...

I love to tell the story of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory, of Jesus and His love.
I love to tell the story, because I know 'tis true;
It satisfies my longings as nothing else can do.

I love to tell the story, 'twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.

I love to tell the story; more wonderful it seems
Than all the golden fancies of all our golden dreams.
I love to tell the story, it did so much for me;
And that is just the reason I tell it now to thee.

I love to tell the story, 'twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.

I love to tell the story; 'tis pleasant to repeat what seems,
Each time I tell it, more wonderfully sweet.
I love to tell the story, for some have never heard
The message of salvation from God's own holy Word.

I love to tell the story, 'twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.

I love to tell the story, for those who know it best
Seem hungering and thirsting to hear it like the rest.
And when, in scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song,
'Twill be the old, old story that I have loved so long.

I love to tell the story, 'twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.

- Words: A. Katherine Hankey, 1866
- Music: William G. Fischer, 1869
The lyrics are similar to those of "Tell Me the Old, Old Story."Both come from Hankey's original poem "The Old, Old Story." link

Posted by tripp at October 27, 2004 06:18 AM