Telling the Story

I never knew much about my family story so a few years ago I decided to dig around a bit.  The tools now available for research are incredible and with a little money and a lot of time I learned a great deal, some good, some … well … less good.

I learned that one maternal great-grandfather was orphaned at a young age and rather than be placed in the mid-19th century equivalent of foster care walked from upstate New York to Kansas and became a successful educator and businessman.  I learned that as far back as 1625 my ancestors were entrepreneurs; I learned that one ancestor fought in the American Revolution and another served as one of the first riders of the Pony Express.

I learned that much of who I am can be seen in who my ancestors were: on my mom’s side there was constant movement and my mom herself left home at an early age to work on the Alcan Highway, dam construction in Texas, road building in Oklahoma, to open a flower shop in New Mexico and at age 50 with a young son in hand relocated her life to Florida.  No wonder I am a nomad.

I also learned that there were family secrets, such as the fact that several relatives from both sides of the tree spent time in the Missouri State Hospital in St. Joseph, known colloquially as Insane Asylum #2.  I learned that my other maternal great-grandfather had two families, one in Kansas and the other in Missouri, with daughters in each state named Melvina, one of which was my grandmother.  Oops!

The more we learn about our past, both personal and familial, the more we can understand who we are today and who we might be in the future.  That is why I believe so strongly in telling the story to our children and to one another.  And not just the local story of Bellevue First Congregational Church, but the bigger story of the entire Christian family.  It is vital to understand the roots from which we spring if we are to make intentional and thoughtful decisions about who we are, what we believe, and how we shall move forward.  Being raised on the Christian story is different than being raised on the Buddhist or Jewish or Muslim story … not better, just different.  The story provides the lens through which we see, interpret, and understand the world.  The fancy word for this is hermeneutic, and for good or ill it is the Christian story which forms our hermeneutic.  And if you don’t know the story, the lens through which we see the world is cloudy (if I might be forgiven for mixing metaphors!). 

So I emphasize the Christian story, warts and all.  I believe it vital to teach the story, to tell it over and over again not as the ultimate truth but as one way by which we seek to understand ultimate truth.  It is arrogant to think that two thousand years of tradition has nothing to teach us; so I read and ponder the story, choosing to accept some parts and reject the others.

Because like it or not, just like my philandering and crazy ancestors, it is my story.

See you in church.