Finding Humility and Hope in Stories

Why Stories Matter – Part I

Many people today, both Christians and non-Christians, would agree that there is very little humility or hope to be found in our society. Disagreement over political and social action intensifies as opposing sides refuse to listen to each other—no humility. And change seems to come so rapidly (and even violently) that many people are left confused and frightened about the future—no hope. But being right in a debate or conflict is not an excuse to be prideful. St. Mary was right in calling herself blessed as she had become the Mother of God, and yet, she was humble: her soul magnified the Lord (Luke 1:46–49). What’s more, a lack of humility leads either to a false hope in my own efforts and success, or to hopelessness when those efforts inevitably fail. The kings and priests of ancient Judah are a good example of those who trusted in their own power and righteousness, but then lost hope in the face of enemy attacks and did not trust in the power of the Lord to save.

Trying for humility and measuring your progress will lead to pride: “Look how humble I am,” is the opposite of humility. Mustering up hope from within yourself will bring despair: I cannot find hope in myself because the future does not entirely depend on me. So, to get humility and hope, we can’t aim at either one. Instead we must aim at memory—to find humility and hope we need to remember and tell stories.

Remembering and re-telling stories can teach us wisdom, because part of wisdom is simply pattern recognition. Part of wisdom is noticing how things usually work; the patterns we see and experience every day of our lives; the nature of things; what always happens. We depend on these patterns for a peaceful and orderly life, even if we don’t notice them. But there is wisdom in seeing and appreciating them. Stories can bring these patterns to our attention and help us better understand them.

In good stories, we see spelled out for us the patterns of God’s work in this creation—in human nature and in the natural world we are a part of. In stories, we also see the patterns of God’s work in Christ and in His Church. The stories of the Bible particularly show how God has mercy, keeps His promises, and saves His people again and again and again. From these stories, we learn that God is trustworthy and dependable. In these ways, stories give reliability and consistency, providing an anchor for us in the chaotic storms of strife, doubt, and despair.

We’ve already noticed how humility and hope are at play in the stories of the Virgin Mary and the kings of Judah. Let’s consider a few other examples from outside the Bible. In The Iliad, the Greek warrior Achilles was right to object to King Agamemnon who seized his well-earned spoils of war. But the wrath and indignation of Achilles took the Greek and Trojan armies down a dangerous path that eventually led to the death of his beloved friend Patroclus and his own death. The lack of humility in both Agamemnon and Achilles led to a hopeless end because even though the Greeks were ultimately victorious, there was great tragedy mixed in as well.

An even more obvious example can be seen in Shakespeare’s Macbeth. Giving themselves over to pride and envy, Macbeth and his wife attempt to seize power by killing the rightful king. Their deeds and how they carry them out are not only unlawful, but corrupt nature, upend the kingdom, bring madness to them both, and ultimately lead Lady Macbeth to take her own life, while Macbeth is killed in combat.

For some positive examples, let’s turn to The Chronicles of Narnia. Aslan the Lion is clearly Christ-like, especially in the humble manner of his sacrificial death at the hands of the White Witch, and the hope he brings for Edmund and all the Narnians. But a less likely example might be Puddleglum from The Silver Chair. He is certainly humble, possibly even pessimistic, yet with his humble, down-to-earth kind of faith, he is able to hold out hope to the other characters in their darkest moment. An evil queen has imprisoned them underground and enchanted them to think there is no Narnia, no world above ground. But Puddleglum is able to remind them of the true world above and help them cling to a scrap of hope, even if it is only in their dreams. An even better example is the mouse Reepicheep. At the end of Prince Caspian, this rather vain and arrogant mouse loses his tail in battle and is taught humility by Aslan. But when we meet him again in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, he is the very image of hope. His prideful love for adventure and glory is redeemed and spurs him on to seek Aslan’s heavenly country. He declares: “While I can, I sail east in the Dawn Treader. When she fails me, I paddle east in my coracle. When she sinks, I shall swim east with my four paws. And when I can swim no longer, if I have not reached Aslan’s country, or shot over the edge of the world in some vast cataract, I shall sink with my nose to the sunrise” (chapter XIV). Here is a beautiful description of the hope at the end of the Nicene Creed: I LOOK FOR the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.

So, telling and re-telling stories from the Bible and from the imaginations of men can heal and help our memory. They put into our memory and call out of our memory two important things: First, our dependence on God, our abiding need for Him, and so there we learn humility. Second, God’s mercy for us, His steadfast love and never-failing promise, and so there we find hope.

Pastor David Petersen has recently spoken and written on the importance of reading the Scriptures with imagination. This has coincided well with my own thinking on literature in general. I believe that considering and practicing the proper use of imagination and stories will aid us in our task to become better readers and preachers of the Bible. Over the next few months, I will attempt to continue this theme on why stories matter.