Holy Communion - Our Own Story Tree

No scars. No story. No life. - An Afghanistan refugee

We are our stories.  Our lives are composed in time and experience.  We understand our lives not as events that are not related but "in terms of narrative."  We tell our stories in order to live.  A psychologist who was working with the refugees immediately following the genocide in Rwanda, found that the women of the camp were not sleeping.  The psychologist was struck by just how very quiet these camps were.  The refugees were almost silent.  They were safe from harm, but could not sleep.  The psychologist learned that these women who had witnessed atrocities such as the murder and rape of children and family members, had been told by camp officials not to speak of it in the camp.  Given the deep trauma these women had encountered, they obeyed without question.  The memories still haunted them.  The psychologist set up a story tree.  It was a safe place outside the camp, where the women could come and speak of their experience.  At first no one came, but gradually scores were gathering to share and listen to their tales of grief, loss, horror, fear and death.  Soon the women were sleeping  (From Mighty Stories by Herbert Anderson).

As people of faith understanding our story in relation to God's story is essential.  Story telling makes us human and vulnerable. 

Today in many churches, Holy Communion was celebrated.  We often think of remembering The Passion of Christ on this occasion.  We often think and remember the sacrifice of Jesus.  We interpret this sacrifice as atonement for sin and marks the defining moment of God's grace and life.   This is all true. 

But what if we also told our story?  What if we dared to show our scars?  What if we dared to make ourselves vulnerable?

Isn't that what Jesus did?  He dared to make himself vulnerable, he dared to make himself humble, he dared to tell His Story, he dared to show His scars and in doing so He gave us....

LIFE.

Imagine for one moment...

Gathering around that tree...OUR STORY TREE...and telling our story.  Sharing our scars with God.  Telling God just how scared we are,  just how tired we are, just how thirsty we are, just how hungry we are, just how lost we are, just how broken we are, just how needy we are and we just need to know...is God small enough to care and to listen? 

We know all the stories of how God hid a ram in the thicket, how God spoke in a burning bush, how God closed the mouths of lions, how God killed a giant with a river rock, how God crumbled the walls of Jericho, how God parted the Red Sea, and how the Israelite's shoes never wore out,  and how God gave Jesus and we believe those stories. 

But do we ever asked God to hear ours?  Do we ever asked God to witness ours?  Do we ever ask God to feel ours?  Do we ever just sit under the tree and tell God just how broken we are and how desperate we are for grace?  Or do we think that God is too big to hear, care or respond. God longs to hear our stories, to share our scars, to wrap arms of love around us and to remind us we are part of the larger story.  God longs to show us our place in His story. 

Here is where life begins...by sharing our story.  Here is where we start to sleep peacefully again.  The scars are still there.  We still remember.  We still hurt.  We still grieve.  We still feel the loss.  BUT instead of silence of our pain we hear the beautiful song of LIFE...

When we share our story under that tree...we find

LIFE.

Praying all my friends tell their stories,

Kathleen