We are God’s story - Chris Gleeson SJ

In the middle of May this year I travelled to beautiful Dunsborough in the south-west of West Australia to facilitate an ‘Oasis’ retreat for Catholic secondary school principals. It would be difficult to find a more positive and welcoming group with which to work. During seven sessions of ninety minutes we ranged over such issues as Joan Chittister’s three questions for spiritual leaders today: Where am I? Where am I going? What dangerous questions must I ask in order to get there? And Christopher Lowney’s four pillars of leadership from his book Heroic Leadership: Jesus the Leader, the Leader as Host, and the Leader as Storyteller.

On waking to the last day of the retreat, I found a ‘thank you’ card under my door from one of the Principals who had to return early to her school. This is what she wrote.

Dear Chris … A little Jesuit story for you. My family was in Japan when I was born and a Jesuit picked out my name. His name was Father Voss—a German Jesuit. He came to the airport to see us off when we returned to America and Father Voss was holding me while we waited on the tarmac for our plane. A soldier on the way to the Korean War asked him to hear his confession. He did so walking up and down while he held the ten-month-old me. The soldier held me when Father gave him absolution. I call this the fourth rite of reconciliation. Thank you so much for your time, energy and wonderful ideas over these Oasis days.

Earlier this year a number of the Brisbane Jesuits joined with our Jesuit brother, Jack Otto, to concelebrate a Mass of Thanksgiving for the life of his father, Peter. At the beginning of the Mass, Jack’s older brother, Ray, shared with the congregation the story of his father’s most interesting journey in life. A farmer from Monto, a returned soldier, a builder, a craftsman of diverse gifts, a friend to many, Peter Otto’s years were very rich.

As Ray spoke, with much emotion, one of his sons would place on a nearby table an appropriate symbol to mark a particular phase of his grandfather’s story. There was an axe, various photos and pieces of farming and building equipment, but it was the sugar bag that moved me most. In those early days of poverty and economic depression, when Peter Otto was trying to make his way in life, he travelled with a sugar bag containing all his worldly possessions. That’s what travelling light in the gospel really means!

After the Mass at Sunnybank, friends and family gathered outside the church to share their thoughts about this wonderful tribute and farewell—for now—to Peter Otto. One of the parishioners shared with me that, when her time comes to meet the Lord, the eulogist would find it difficult to describe her life as anything but ordinary and uneventful. I could not agree with her. Even if our eulogists are a tad unimaginative, and many are, it is necessary to remember the words of Jewish author Elie Wiesel—that God created us because he loves stories.

Our story is sacred ground. It is our life unfolding. No wonder, then, that God should be listening carefully to every twist and turn in our story because he is intimately interested us. ‘If God ceased thinking of me, God would cease to exist’, Angelus Silesius once commented. There is never a moment in time when I am not in the heart and mind of God. Such is the mystery of God’s love.

What a beautiful thought that we are the story that God, the supreme weaver of stories, loves to hear! When we think about it, stories are a very important part of our whole life. We are born into a community of story-tellers—our family—and take on their story even before we see the light of day. If we are fortunate enough to have had a strong family life, we will have had stories told and read to us from a very early age. If we have had the good fortune to belong to a school community with rich history and tradition, we will have been immersed again and again in all its stories and myths.

Stories, as William Bausch points out, are a bridge to our roots. They provide meaning and coherence in helping us relate to our world. We tell stories to make sense of our experience and, in the telling, we ourselves are told. Stories come to meet us where we are and then draw us beyond ourselves.

When someone accords me the privilege of sharing their story with me, they are linking themselves to me in a most intimate way. It is like building a bridge between two sets of experience. This certainly happens every time we listen to the story of Jesus. His story becomes our story. Henri Nouwen wrote in Making All Things New:

‘Our lives are destined to become like the life of Jesus. The whole purpose of Jesus’ ministry is to bring us to the house of his Father. Not only did Jesus come to free us from the bonds of sin and death, he came also to lead us into the intimacy of his divine life.’

Jesus was a masterful storyteller. So often he began his teaching with the invitation to ‘Just imagine …’, or ‘Let me tell you a story’. He knew instinctively what modern psychology confirms—that images and stories, and also music, resonate with the human psyche at a deeper level than lectures, sermons or expositions. Those familiar with the Spiritual Exercises would also know that St Ignatius Loyola well understood the importance of story and imagination for helping people to connect to their deepest selves.

Everyone has a story to tell and be told. In connecting our story more intimately with that of Jesus, let us conclude with the beautiful words of Augustinian priest, Rod Cameron:

If human hope is like a bird in flight,
then story is the air. It's where we live.
Story fuels the fires of the mind,
for when we find our theme, we find ourselves.
It is God who speaks into the story of our lives,
for God is the meaning maker of the world.