Stories to win the world

Long before Nathan, the prophet, told his story (2 Sam. 12), David was living in an alternative story, a delusion actually.

In David’s fantasy, he, the hero, was able to lust, steal, kill and cover it all up (2 Sam. 11). Presumably he thought he could do this because he was the king. The trouble is, all of us are like David. We lust and take and kill too (Matt. 5:2 1-30; James 4:1-2), and we’ve all followed that pattern since the garden (Gen. 3:6).

So here we are: little Davids casting ourselves as the hero of our own personal drama. How can we be awoken from our dream world? Nathan knows. He spins a yarn: There is a poor man with nothing but a wee ewe-lamb – just picture it! She drinks from his cup, sleeps in his arms, she is like a daughter to him. And a rich man simply wants her, takes her, kills her. Monster, right? But – boom! – ‘You are the man!’

Suddenly David sees reality because the story gives him a God’s-eye perspective. With a story you’re looking in from the outside. The ego has been taken out of the picture (stories are brilliant for removing the ego – they require us to simply shut up and listen). With the self set aside, self-justification is neutralised and David can see things clearly. He is not the hero. He’s the villain. And repentance follows.

How can we learn from Nathan? Let me offer some short stories to be used when the thorniest evangelistic questions are asked. How should we answer questions about sexuality, transgenderism and science? With a story of course.

On sexuality

If your friend is convinced you’re bigoted because you have a different vision for sex, tell them…

‘Bill the Buddhist is over at your place for a barbecue. He says he won’t eat meat because of his spiritual beliefs. Your other neighbour, Bob the Butcher, feels mightily judged: “Do you think you’re better than me? Do you hate carnivores? Are you some kind of carni-phobe? My best mate works at the abattoir but he’s the most Buddhisty bloke you’ve ever met. Where do you get off, you meat bigot?”’

Having set up the parallel, you can say: ‘My views about sex and sexuality also come from a big vision for God, life and the universe. We can talk about that big picture if you like, but none of it means I hate people, any more than Bill the Buddhist hates Bob the Butcher. If Bill and Bob can get along – and surely they should – then why not Christians and non-Christians?

On transgender

Perhaps speak of Debbie the Doctor:

‘Into her surgery walks Amy, a chronically underweight girl, who complains that she’s far too fat. She asks Debbie to prescribe diet pills and to recommend surgical solutions to her morbid obesity. Amy steps on the scales and is clearly in the anorexic weight range. How should Debbie advise her patient?’

She will be hugely sympathetic to Amy’s anxieties and will address her psychological anguish. But if she were to treat Amy’s body the way Amy is demanding, she would be seriously, perhaps permanently, harming her. If that holds for eating disorders, then why not gender dysphoria?

On science

Many of our friends live in an imaginary world where science and faith are enemies. It’s a surprisingly entrenched view. But with a story we can outflank it.

‘Betty the Botanist is in her lab and she says to Gareth, the lab technician: “Gareth, thank you so much for giving me that botanical specimen yesterday. I’ve managed to map its genome and also discovered pharmacological properties that will help us in the fight against Alzheimers.” Gareth says, “Specimen? Betty, yesterday was February 14th… Valentines Day? It was a long-stem rose. Betty, do you understand what I gave to you?”’

If your friend thinks science explains everything, leaving no room for other perspectives, you can tell them that story. And, in the style of Nathan, you say: ‘My friend, the world is that rose and you are that botanist!’

Stories are not sugar to make the medicine go down. Often it’s stories that deliver the most effective dose of reality.