RELEASE TO THE CAPTIVES

Part 1

We are storytellers.

It’s in our DNA.

There really is no such thing as “just the facts, ma’am.”

Because even if we are trying to relay “just facts,” how do we do it?

By telling a story about those facts.

Think about it.

What made your history textbooks and lectures seem boring?

Someone was trying to “just the facts” you into learning.

Left you feeling pretty cold, didn’t it?

That’s because our minds and hearts don’t work that way.

We need to have our interest piqued.

We need to be engaged.

We need to connect.

Because we are storytellers.

Whoever wrote the Gospel of John was no exception.

Have you ever wondered who he was?

There are so many intimate details included in the fourth Gospel.

It’s obvious that the author was involved in the events he described.

But what propelled him to tell his story?

Because make no mistake.

John’s Gospel was just as much a story about the author as it was a story about Jesus.

Why did the author of John feel it necessary to add his story into the mix?

He does explicitly states his intent near the end.

“...that you may believe the Messiah is Jesus and that you may have life in Him...”

Yet others had already written accounts of the life of Jesus.

Would his own story accomplish something the others hadn’t?

Maybe it’s just that the author was like so many people today.

You know, the bloggers and the vloggers, the Instagramers and the Tweeters.

The people who think the entire world needs and wants to hear their every thought.

Except in his case, God agreed with him.

The world did need to hear his thoughts.

The world did need to hear his story.

So did he achieve his goal?

Did he inspire people to believe that Jesus was the Messiah?

You’d have to agree that the answer is a resounding, “YES!”

And how did he do that?

By telling stories.

Stories about how Jesus treated people.

And not just crowds — individuals.

Andrew.

Peter.

Philip.

Nathanael.

His mother.

Nicodemus.

The Samaritan woman.

The royal official.

The sick man laying near pool of Bethesda.

The woman caught in adultery.

The man born blind.

Martha.

Mary.

Lazarus.

Judas Iscariot.

Annas.

Caiaphas.

Pilate.

The author of the Gospel of John.

Mary of Magdala.

Thomas.

Each person was treated like a person, not just a face or a number.

Jesus spoke and acted with a deep and intense compassion for every single person.

That’s what the author seemed to remember most about his Friend and Rabbi.

Nowhere is that demonstrated more powerfully than at the end of his Gospel.

Jesus had just conquered death.

He had shown the world that He was exactly who He said He was.

He was Lord and Master of all creation.

The implications of what He had done were cosmic in scale.

And yet there He was, making a charcoal fire on the beach.

It had to be charcoal.

That’s the very smell that filled Peter’s nostrils that night.

The night he cussed up a storm to emphasize how much he didn’t know Jesus.

Nothing takes you back like your sense of smell.

(You sort of can’t help it.

Your brain actually hijacks you and yeah, you have no choice.

You’re taking a stroll down memory lane whether you want to or not.)

Jesus knew what it would take for Peter to rise from the ashes of that charcoal fire.

He had to address not only Peter’s actions but Peter’s emotions and state of mind.

No doubt Peter was all about the feels the second he smelled that fire on the beach.

And not in a good way.

Jesus didn’t dance around the issue.

He didn’t let Peter off the hook.

But Jesus made sure Peter knew that he didn’t have to remain enslaved to guilt.

Peter didn’t have to stay twisted up inside with shame.

Jesus let Peter know that forgiveness was right there.

Forgiveness was walking next to him.

Forgiveness was talking with him.

So yeah, of all the stories the author could have ended with, what did he choose?

The one where the newly resurrected Lord of all creation helped one person in pain.

The one where He took the time to make sure one of His closest friends was okay.

That story, that image of Jesus was what the author wanted to leave people with.

Jesus putting all of Isaiah 40 into word and action with His friend, Peter.

(And here’s a thought that my husband raised not too long ago — what Jesus did on that beach was, in all likelihood, just as much for Him as it was for Peter.)

God tells stories.

His image-bearers do the same.

Question is, what stories do we tell?

Social media might have started out as something good.

A way to communicate.

A way to connect or reconnect.

A way to share.

As with so many other things, though, it is only as good as those who use it.

Some use social platforms as nothing more than a way to feed their narcissism.

Others find pleasure in laying the smack down on anyone who disagrees with them.

The keyboard is mightier than a nuclear warhead.

Sharing and communication have become dangerous while at the same time trivial.

We’re not telling stories that help people find life through Jesus.

Our storytelling has become twisted and bent.

We do have the power to make it different, though.

As disciples of Jesus.

And the author of John’s Gospel showed us the way.

You know, Moses said something interesting to Israel back in the day.

“These words, which I command you today, shall be on your heart; and you shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise up.”

Were they supposed to go around all day quoting nothing laws and commandments?

Gonna go with “no” on that one.

God made us in His image, right?

And if we’re storytellers, then...

See, God wants us to tell each other stories.

He really does.

Because that’s how we learn.

That’s how we truly communicate.

Pretty sure it’s not an accident that the bulk of the Bible is in story form.

Even the letters.

God wants us to tell His story.

When we’re at home with our family.

When we’re out with our friends.

When we’re trying to fall asleep.

As part of our morning routine.

He wants us to tell stories about Him.

And believe it or not, stories about yourself are stories about Him.

Because we’re His image-bearers all the time.

And we are storytellers.

We can’t help ourselves.

So now there’s only one question that remains.

What stories will you tell?