Telling Your Story

 

    You never know when God is giving you a story to tell.  But being astute to the likelihood that God can use us in a mighty way with our stories should keep us alert to the possibilities that God may be giving any of us a story to tell today.  A few weeks ago, we openly requested that our small group members consider sharing their conversion stories.  We didn’t know as we gathered that I would ask this question; it was more a prompting that led to this decision.  A few were apologetic about the length of their explanation; most were compelling while others meandered, making it more difficult to comprehend any content that might be memorable.  It made me wonder why I, myself, hadn’t given much thought to how I might tell my story in the most impactful way.  Does that seem odd to consider that the intention of our most compelling stories should be to make an impact on others?  Let me digress for just a moment.

     Last evening, we decided to watch a family movie.  It wasn’t one of the films that you might recommend to others.  Our choice, based mainly on ratings, felt safe to watch without any awkward encounters.  We wished to avoid a decision to abort the movie midway through because it did not meet our decency standards.  It had a rating of 7-plus, meaning that it seemed suitable for young children.  It seems sad that this is the measure of films we watch with our teenage daughters, but fortunately, they often agree with our standards.  The movie title was one where you might instantly conclude it’s virtue even before you viewed it;  it was called “Prayer Never Fails.”  This morning my mind continued to ponder its content after I finished my morning Bible reading.  It dawned on me that there was a correlation that I did not want to overlook.  It was the story told by the main character that I would remember, not because of the movie, but because of the credits that followed.

     The story's premise is described, “A high school basketball coach is fired for praying with one of his players.  He follows a sign and hires an agnostic, gambling lawyer for his defense.”  As anyone could guess, his prayer was observed and reported to the administration, and his termination was immediate.  Would we hear the argument of “Separation of Church and State?”  You can count on it, but the real debate was freedom of speech.  As the main character shared his testimony, his past behavior was questioned and became admissible in court.  This is the Segway that brought me to this morning's passage found in Acts 24 through 26.  Paul was on trial first in Jerusalem, but then for safety reasons was held in Caesarea.

In three chapters, Paul testifies to Felix, Fetus, and then King Agrippa.  Now he would be sent to the emperor in Rome for his final appeal.  The Jewish religious elite had repeatedly hounded Paul, charging him with creating riots and dissension.  They were seeking the death penalty.  Paul defends himself.  Scriptures do not reveal that he has any other legal counsel.  The verses that stood out the most in my reading found in Acts 26:6-8 says, “And now I stand here on trial because of my hope in the promise made by God to our fathers, to which our twelve tribes hope to attain, as they earnestly worship night and day. And for this hope, I am accused by Jews, O King! Why is it thought incredible by any of you that God raises the dead?”   Paul seems to ask a rhetorical question, but Fetus tells Paul he is out of his mind.  Paul’s defense is that King Agrippa would understand the details he had relaid.  Then Paul asks King Agrippa, “Do you believe in the prophets?”  It was a simple way of asking, do you believe in the Jewish Scriptures.  The King realized that Paul’s testimony was not only to defend himself but also to bring the message of salvation to those who were listening.

     At the conclusion of our movie, the credits scrolled across the screen, and a tribute caught our eyes, the kind you see when someone significant to the making of the film passes away.  We were unfamiliar with the name, so we decided to “Google” it.  We uncovered that the lead actor had died in a car crash just three months following the film's release.  He was 28 years old.  Knowing nothing of this young man, we wondered if the film had represented his personal belief in Christ.  Would his personal testimony match the testimony of the role he played in his final movie?  This question left me wondering what I might share with someone who asked me to tell the most compelling story of my life.  People never ask us that question, do they?  But what if someone asks me to tell them something about myself, what narrative would I offer? 

     In the New Testament, I am often reminded that Paul sets himself up as an example to be imitated.  How does Paul tell his story?  What defense does he use when put on trial?  Paul doesn’t elaborate on his accomplishments, his possessions, or the importance of those in his social circle.  Paul’s message is concise; his mind does not wander; his speeches are purposeful.  Is this due to his education or the understanding that his message is relevant for his listeners?  Paul’s testimony to King Agrippa brought to mind a familiar passage found in 1 Peter 3:15 (ESV), which says, “In your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect.”  If someone were to ask me to tell them my story, would I share my hope, or would I fail to make my account a profession of faith?

     As I pondered the thought of this question, I was struck by the fact that although I’m often reading Scriptures, have I allowed them to teach me to talk about my faith?  Have I ever used God’s Word to show me how to tell my story?  How many times in Scripture have I read Paul’s testimonies?  If I were to imitate him, what would that look like?  Could I outline some of his accounts to help develop my own voice?  We often love to share our experiences with others and then offer advice.  What if we ask ourselves what our experiences have taught us and then learn to tell stories that allow a listener to extract their own advice?  Why do people use an elevator pitch to sell a product or a service?  Isn’t it because we’ve learned over time that people rarely have the patience to listen for any length of time.  If our stories meander or we fumble with our thoughts, could that change the impact they may have when we share?  Don’t we tend to be careless with our words?  Our testimony should be the most compelling story we tell.  We can see in Acts 26:28 that King Agrippa had no doubt that Paul intended to persuade him to become a Christian.  Shouldn’t we hope that our stories could achieve the same results?  I would rather someone ask me if I’m trying to persuade them to become a believer rather than have no purpose.  Wouldn’t you?