Humans love a good story. More than that, we like a good story to live by. Whether that is the American dream, the World War II myth of “Britain alone,” or The Greatest Story Ever Told, many of us adore a story that tells us who we were or are and who we can become. One might even call this era the age of narrative: a time when politicians, religious leaders, and influencers alike simply must deploy story in order to motivate—and, so often, to sell things—or else they become irrelevant.
Stories also fail us. They can become hollow, losing traction as ways of understanding a life or a nation. They can become damaging. The stories told by someone like Donald Trump cause division and potentially foster violence. And some versions of the gospel story can not only inspire but also create victims and survivors.
What part in the call to live a flourishing life is played by the stories we live by? Stories matter to Christians, whether they be parables told by Jesus or the story of salvation itself. I know I live by stories and am a sucker for them. I want not only to tell and inhabit the Christian story better but also to understand why, despite their promise and seeming truth, the stories we live by can mess any of us up.
