Stories shape worlds. The stories that we tell—to ourselves and others—shape our beliefs and therefore, also our interactions with others.

If you don’t believe me, consider how influential the superhero genre has been since the 1930s. It’s no coincidence that the genre exploded onto the comic book scene in the Interwar period and Great Depression Era. The world was falling politically and economically, and morale was low… look! It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s SUPERMAN to the rescue!

It's deeply ironic how quickly the Western world developed the superhero genre after having collectively decided that Jesus Christ was no longer a viable Saviour option. Having removed one Saviour, they quickly replaced him with others.

The ancient world called these saviours gods. Today, being superiorly ‘enlightened,’ we acknowledge the science of mutations and the potential of extraterrestrial beings and call them superheroes or aliens.

These mythologies, ancient or modern, serve the same purpose—to identify a Higher Being or Power which humanity can align themselves with or against. It shifts the blame of human rottenness to another type of being who cannot possibly be held to account by human standards because after all, they are not human. It gives humanity a common enemy external to our own morality and spirituality, bypassing the darkness lurking within our very souls.

Stories shape worlds; they shape how we view ourselves and others; they shape the narrative that we tell ourselves.

The Bible is a story.

Some people balk at that, arguing, “But it’s THE story!”, implying that no other story could possibly tell truth about the condition of humanity. Others might say, “NO, the Bible isn’t a story, it’s TRUTH,” implying that truth can only be told via facts and logic.

Friends, stories tell truth most powerfully. Stories subvert our natural defenses against reason and logic, and they burrow deep within our souls. They direct our morality and tell us what behaviour is socially acceptable. They grant us our roles to play as we interact with friends, family, colleagues, and strangers.

Stories are descriptive, but they are also formative.

That is, they describe what people, gods, culture, religion, politics, etc. are like, but they also, in the retelling of stories, form how we understand our people, gods, culture, religion, politics, etc.

The Bible tells the story of a God who deigns to interact with a wayward people. This God is unlike the other gods of ancient mythologies. From the very beginning, this God declares that he is a God of peace, not war; a God of order, not chaos; a God who values human life and doesn’t discard them once used up; a God who shows mercy, not retaliation.

In the Ancient Near East (ANE), the gods of Mesopotamia were known for their brutal violence. Out of this violence, the earth was born, and humans were created from mud to work as slaves for the gods.

Does that sound familiar? Well, I hope not, except for that detail about humans being created out of mud.

“Then the LORD God formed the human out of the dust from the ground and breathed the breath of life into his nostrils, and the human became a living being” (Gen. 1:7).

The Bible tells the story of how God graciously and gently created our world as we know it. He graciously and gently breathed life into the human being; he did not use violence, but his very breath.

This is the story that God’s people, Israel, are to tell and re-tell. As the Hebrews prepare the first Passover meal in anticipation of their deliverance from Egyptian slavery, God tells them, “And when your children ask you, ‘What does this ceremony mean to you?’ then tell them, ‘It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord, who passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt and spared our homes when he struck down the Egyptians.’” Then the people bowed down and worshiped. (Ex. 12:26-27)

These stories are told repeatedly, passed down from generation to generation. Some of the stories in the Bible (most, you might argue) are less than ideal as they describe suffering, war, adultery, acts of violence, and pagan idolatry. The stories are honest, depicting the highs and lows of humanity and the God who remains steadfastly faithful through it all. When the stories are forgotten, the people also forget their God.

If we want a story that makes us feel good about ourselves as a human race, we might not want to read the Bible. It’s sharp and cutting as it reveals the depths to which humans will protect themselves and pursue their own ambitions.

But, as it cuts away the superfluous pride, selfishness, and cruelty of the human condition, it also reveals a path back to wholeness, restored relationship, and goodness—a path created by God for his people. It’s a story of redemption, and really, who doesn’t love a good redemption story?

The fallen humanity is restored through God’s gracious, progressive revelation of himself through his covenant with his people. This is a covenant that establishes communal worship, which forms the people to pursue the things of God rather than the things of selfishness, and a way of life that cares for the poor, orphans, widows, and foreigners instead of personal ambition.

It's a slow revelation. Painful, even. God makes a covenant, and Israel fails to uphold their end of the bargain. God is patient and forgives them. And repeat. Then God judges them, sending them into exile, but is still patient with them and returns many of them to their home.

And then, Jesus. The new kingdom of God comes to earth. The church.

A grand continuation of this story of faithfulness, grace, love, and redemption. This story changes us as we tell and re-tell it. It is both descriptive, telling us what God has done in history, and formative as it places us within the narrative, challenging us to consider who we are becoming.

Questions for reflection:

How do you feel about the Bible as one grand story?
What changes when we read the Bible as a story rather than an instruction manual or a science textbook?

For Further Study: