The Power of Narrative

The Power of Narrative

Il était une fois, is a French rendition of a very familiar phrase. One that is known by even the smallest children and has been around for generations. The phrase is ‘once upon a time’. It calls to mind such varied narratives as Grimm’s fairy tales or even Quentin Tarantino movies. From Mother Goose to Sergio Leone. ‘Once upon a time’ is a phrase that holds implicit promise, and readies one’s mind for a journey into the unknown. This isn’t merely whimsical conjecture, there are quite a few studies showing the link between storyteller and listener on the neurological level. One such notable study by Stephens, Silbert, and Hasson suggests that the brain activity between storyteller and listener is so synchronous as to create what they refer to as a “neural coupling”. When we hear a story our brain registers activity throughout the motor and sensory cortices, as well as the frontal cortex. Suggesting that, not only are we apt to better retain the information we receive, but also that we are more empathetic, even going so far as to place ourselves within the story being told. All’s to say that stories impact us, they leave their mark unlike anything else.

Anyone even passively monitoring how our news is delivered should be familiar with the intoxicating power of narrative. Very rarely are we given straight facts from a stone-faced anchor speaking to us in the General American accent. We are told part of a story. Now no longer did the bill not garner the requisite votes for passage, we are told the President was defeated by Congress eager to stop his policies. It wasn’t a fire that engulfed a certain number of square miles and incurred the corresponding dollars of property damage. It was an outcome of a climate catastrophe brought about by man’s action (or inaction). One needn’t agree or disagree with these tales to recognize that they are tales being told. It is not reporting facts, but spelling out the next chapter of a narrative, in real time. And, like moths to a flame, we gravitate toward it. If clicks are cash and eyeballs confer eminence then it’s clear that we are addicted to the power of narrative. We get what we ask for, and we are demanding a story.

This is not really an accident. Do keep in mind when Jesus taught the masses, it was through the power of story. We refer to these stories that He told as parables. “The disciples came to Him and asked, ‘Why do you speak to the people in parables?’” (Matthew 13:10) It was certainly noticed. People have been telling each other stories for generations. Our history, before it was written, was told. Passed down from one generation to the next in hopes to keep alive the past, to prevent a repeat of the mistakes that had been made, and make sure the lessons learned stayed that way. In some ways we are very similar to snails.

Snails are impacted directly by what they eat, it changes the way they taste. In cultures that view them as delicacies, when captured in the wild they are starved for days before being prepared. Such precautions are taken because snails are “opportunistic feeders” and one can never know what they’ve ingested. If raised in a cochlearium, snails are given specific diets to help improve their flavor. As unappetizing as this may seem or unappealing as it may sound, people aren’t much different. We are products of our environment and, like the snail, reflect what we ingest. We are “opportunistic feeders” all too willing to shovel into our brains many things that don’t belong there. And this shapes us, influences our thinking. It affects our tastes, what we desire, what we strive toward, and to a degree what we become. There’s a lovely little song by Elliott Park called The Soldier and The Oak that deals with this idea. And the stories we feed our mind the most are the ones we tell ourselves.

This newsletter will be released on December 29th. The tail end of one year and the cusp of another. What stories do you tell yourself of the preceding year’s events? What dreams do you hold close as to the one approaching? That is what resolutions are after all, a story we tell ourselves of what we wish to see. We stand resolved to make a change, start a habit, quit a practice, embark on a journey, or create a new chapter. All well and good but useless without consulting our life’s Author and Creator. Because the only stories we are capable of telling are fictions, and even those are halfheartedly done and far too often left incomplete. Partly due to the fact that we can see such a small part of the picture, our hopes will often pale in comparison to God’s plan. So much so that every one of us could stand resolved at the precipice of this new year to be more faithful, or to act out more in faith. Not content to remain within the parameters of our sketched out plans, but bold enough to reach out in faith and ask what dreams may come?

New years are given weight in light of our own mortality. We would not mark the event with any significance if we did not understand their finite nature. I once believed that the dead are merely memory, that the only power, influence, or importance they have are what we grant them. Although fastidiously conservative, I never believed the past could lay claim to our future. Although it laid the foundation, we were responsible for building it. Brick by brick. Now, I’m not so sure. Matthew 1:1-17 spells out for us the genealogy of Jesus. The first words of Scripture in 400 years after the last prophet are a list of dead men and women from generations past. Past is prologue. One written by the hand of God. And you are a part of it.

Even the disciples came to Jesus and asked why He spoke in parables so often. “Jesus spoke all these things to the crowd in parables; He did not say anything to them without using a parable. So was fulfilled what was spoken through the prophet: ‘I will open my mouth in parables, I will utter things hidden since the creation of the world.’” (Matthew 13:34-35) {ref. Psalms 78:2} We require a story, it helps us to understand, it gives us context better than straight data or facts. Who would know that better than our Creator? When He spoke to us, it was exactly how we needed to hear it. In a manner that could cut through every language or cultural barrier, in a way understood simply by the most and least educated. The parables that Jesus spoke are still understood in a culture completely alien to the people who heard them, in a language nobody spoke at the time and in a land that did not appear on any known map. There is undeniable power in a narrative.

So, how about a story? Once upon a time the world existed without you. Five minutes before you were born people lived, married, worked, fought, dreamed, ate and slept. And then you appeared. We like to believe that the globe ground down to a halt to take notice, but it did not. Even regarding the birth of Christ, the only ones notified were shepherds. A few wise men picked up on the sign too, but the rest of the world twirled on in ignorance. We may strut the stage as if the spotlight has singled us out, but our voice will never likely rise too far in the din of 8 billion souls all screaming to be heard. Our exit is predetermined and awaiting us, off in the wings somewhere unknown. What you strive toward will be the story of your life. And eventually, you will take your place in the great tapestry our Creator has woven. Your name added to the list of the faithful and part of someone else’s genealogy. It should come as no surprise that Revelation tells us our names are written in a book (7 times it reiterates this). As you begin your preparations for this new year, what story do you wish you life to write? Some authors begin a story with the ending in mind, others find it along the way. The Author of life itself already knows the ending and has seen fit to allow us to see it. It all ends in glory and redemption. Do you want to be a part of that, or apart from that? What story will you live this next year? Don’t leave the world in ignorance, let the light of Christ shine through you though the heavens themselves fall. Unless the Lord says otherwise, around midnight that ball will drop and people across the globe will usher in 2024. What happens next? I’ll leave it to you to tell.

Jordan Williamson