Telling the Story

I’ve discovered over the last several years that I have a real love for storytelling and folktales. Being in India has drawn this out so much. The love of stories goes deep in Indian culture and I wish I could convey the excitement I feel as I delve more into this sea of stories (I think I’m going to have to share some with you!). You can learn so much about a place and it’s people by looking at their stories. Ideals, fears, motivations… it’s all in there somewhere. And, I’ve been seeing more and more that God has put his stamp on mankind… in every culture you can see His truths, sometimes in the most unusual places. Probably my favorite story so far is about a merciful king. He is described as perfect and compassionate, gracious to all his people. As a test of this mercy, one day a dove comes to him for protection from an eagle who’s about to devour him. The king, of course, takes the dove into his care, but then the eagle challenges his mercy… reminding the king that he also needs food to live. So, the king offers him any food in the kingdom, equal in weight to the dove. The eagle smirks… “You will give me anything in the kingdom?” “Of, course… whatever you desire”, the king declares. The eagle then demands the king’s flesh… and the king gives it without hesitation. But, as they are cutting out the flesh and putting it on the scale… the scale never evens out, and the king must give all of himself on behalf of the helpless dove. The story ends with the “gods” acknowledging that this king, who was perfect and willing to sacrifice all of himself, must be the Lord of the World. The first version of this story that I found was in a book I found at the University bookstore, “Cradle tales of Hinduism”. I felt the hair on my arm stand up as I got to the end of the story… “Hmm… I think I know this King!”

Not only is India full of stories, but Indians really enjoy hearing and sharing stories. I’ve seen this a lot recently in the house where I live. Within the Indian family that’s taken me in as a daughter, I have a little sister… Nicki. She’s about to turn 17. We became fast friends and spend a lot of time together. A couple weeks ago the two of us were eating together and she was talking about the pain involved with being a woman and giving birth to children, etc. “Why did God make it that way?” she asked rhetorically. I sighed understandingly, then said, “Nicki, do you know the story of the first man and first woman?” At that point she lost interest in her food and all of her attention was on me, as I proceeded to tell her about the garden, the fellowship with God, and the forbidden fruit. I talked about how they were deceived by the snake to disobey God and about the consequences that came after they did. I described the conversation they had with God and the blame-shifting. I told that one of the consequences that God said would happen is that women would have pain in bringing forth children… BUT, He also promised that one day a child would be born from a woman that would crush the head of that snake (meaning that he could defeat evil). That was seemingly the end of the story and she seemed quite pleased.

“Do you know who that child was?” I asked.
“Who?”
“Yesu… and he was able to defeat evil because he was willing to die”
“That’s very difficult [defeating evil]” I grappled for words to explain why and how… and reached for another story.
“Do you remember when we went to see Narnia?” [It played at the theatre here, dubbed in Hindi, Nicki loved it.] “You know how the boy was supposed to die because of what he did, but instead the lion died. But, he couldn’t stay dead because he was perfect…?”
“Because he was the truth thing, so he can’t die…” she interrupted. [In Hindi, perfect is translated “exactly true”]
“…And that’s how they defeated the witch, who was like the snake…” I told her that the man who wrote the Narnia stories knew the story of Yesu, and was telling it in a special way.
“Is it true?” she asked.
“The Narnia story was made up, but the story of Yesu is true”.

A few days later, she found a bracelet I had been given which has symbols that tell the story of the birth of Jesus.

“What is this? It’s pretty!”
“It tells the story of Yesu. Here, let me show you…” Starting from the star that appeared the night he was born and the beads for each of the wise men, I told her the Story. When I was telling about his mother and the angels, I realized again how scandalous the story is. A young girl, engaged, turns up pregnant. In India, the culture is still more like it was in that time. I mentioned that his mother was probably 15 or 16 at the time… “That’s my age… whoa…” She connected herself to the Story her first time hearing it more than I ever have perhaps. She continued to be amazed that He was born in a place for animals because no one would let them in, but wise men came to see him. I continued through, past the little rings for each of the disciples and eventually to little silver cross. I explained that it was a way of killing criminals, and described how He was nailed to it. Her face filled with concern and disgust. Then there are the three dark beads… for the three days in the grave, and a bead for His Spirit which he gave to his followers. It was such a privilege to tell her the Story. Since then I keep thinking about how common the Story has become to me. I wish I could hear it again for the first time… and experience the shock and amazement that I saw in her face. We forget how beautiful and tragic and scandalous and real the Story is. Nicki asked me again that night, “This is a true story, it really happened?” “Yes”, I told her, and realized I need to remind myself… this really happened!?