big stories.

I've been silent on here for a long time.

On more than a few occasions, I've visited my own blog, and was tempted to just pound something out for the sake of regular contribution. But I didn't.

But now I have something to write about.

Our stories are too small.

What do I mean by "our stories?" I mean, generally speaking, our stories about God: what he is doing in our life, in the church, in the world, etc.

What do I mean by "too small?" Perhaps it would be better to start by explaining what I do not mean. What I do not mean is: how our stories are packaged or marketed, how they are presented, how many people hear them, how many dollars are raised in light of them, or even how many conversions they produce.

What I mean by "too small" is this: for most Christians in most places in America, our stories are too small in terms of how intimate they are.

That's right: the more intimate our stories are, the bigger they are.

Let's play this game again.

What do I mean by "intimate?" I mean like God speaking to Adam, to Abraham, to Isaac, to Jacob, to Moses. I mean like God moving in the heart of David to produce Psalms. I mean like God speaking to the prophets who were then so moved to stand before kings domestic and foreign demanding their repentance in God's name.

I mean like God speaking to John the Baptist to go out into the desert and baptize people, making the way for the Messiah. I mean like God speaking to Jesus on the mountain of Transfiguration.

I mean like Jesus appearing to Saul on the road to Damascus, to John on the island of Patmos. That's what I mean by intimate.

Perhaps now it is easy to see the link between the level of intimacy of our stories and their "bigness." But it bears mention:

What do I mean by our stories being "big?"

Very simply: bigger means more awe. The bigger a story is, the more awe it inspires in the listener, and the more capable they are of seeing the Author behind the story.

Our stories are too small here in America. We need bigger stories. We need stories of God intimately speaking to and moving in the hearts of ordinary men in women in ways that inspire awe and sight.

And also: we need to stop wrapping old stories in new trappings. But I'm not writing about that right now.

Why do I say that our stories are too small? Well, for several reasons. First, my experience with people tells me this. Most of us can't hear God (at least very well, or in a way that is recognizable and familiar), and can't sense or articulate what he's up to in our lives. The evidence? Well, put simply: how many people do you know who are taking calculated, intentional, and often risky steps of faith to new depths of vulnerability, sacrificial obedience, and love in light of how they claim God is leading them? I think most of us couldn't come up with 3 names... let alone one.

Second, our stories get dwarfed by our world's stories. More present to our minds than the intimate voice of God is our economic crisis, the challenges of Darwinism and evolutionary findings, sexual orientations, the environment, pluralism in the media and culture in general, the polarization of the political parties, and so on and so forth. These are the big stories. These are the compelling stories. These are the stories people read, talk about, discuss, and orient their lives in light of. And for some reason, we think that for our stories to compete, we have to translate them into to magical prayer cloths, 7 steps to guarunteed life change, prosperity messages, or otherworldly phenomenon that more closely resemble ghost stories than God stories.

I want a story about there being enough bread to feed thousands of hungry people. I want a story about a burning bush. I want a story about an oppressive giant falling at the hands of the meek. I want a story about a man toppling the religious system of his day in favor of God's presence and mercy. I want a story about a vision that gives people hope in the midst of times that may require their very lives. And I want to hear those stories become commonplace among the people of God... so commonplace that a world cannot ignore them, caricature them, parody them, or explain them away.

And I want those stories to bring a sterile, stubborn, stiff-necked church to her knees in repentance, at the sight of the nearness of the glory of God, the risen Christ, and the present Spirit.

So we are left with the question... no make that questions, plural:

1. Does God still speak to men and women in the way that he did with the people in the Bible?

2. Was there some sort of characteristic intrinsic to those people--those "heroes of the faith"--that we just don't have anymore?

3. If the answer to #1 is "yes," and the answer to #2 is "no," then how do we hear the voice of God in intimate ways that produce big stories?