The Stories We Tell…
The stories we hold dear also hold an immense power to shape us. Everything from our view of others to our view of ourselves to the ways in which we go about life in the world is informed by story. This was apparent to me as my spouse and I recently shared a socially-distanced picnic in a town park with another couple. The conversation turned toward the ability or inability to offer empathy in this COVID time. Specifically, it was asked, “How do we care for those whose actions seem so callous toward us? How do we wish well those whose actions do not seem to uphold our own well-being?” I wondered aloud, “What stories do we draw from that tell of our intrinsic value?”
I have struggled to think of stories outside of religious traditions or myth that help us see this intrinsic value in others. This does not mean they do not exist, but we live in a world where value (or worth) is most often measured by one’s actions and even one’s productivity. The earth, herself, is seen by many as valuable only because of what can be procured from her fragile body. People are measured by their impact on the economy. The Accra Confession states aptly many of the mindsets and objectives of our current economic systems that contribute to the ways in which we tie value (or worth) to achievement.
But I wonder if true empathy can ever be born from any story that begins with human action or achievement. If we base our ability to offer empathy solely on value that is assigned or shaped by human action then anyone whose actions differ from what we see as proper or productive will be subject to scrutiny rather than empathy; they will not have behaved in a way that deems their life intrinsically valuable to us so they will be undeserving of empathy. But the stories we tell within our Christian tradition offer much for consideration toward these questions with which we and our friends wrestled and to these moments in which empathy is dearly needed.
So, I find myself going back to these formational stories of our faith—stories I know to offer inherent value to human life not because of human action but because of divine action. I consider the creation story in which we are told we are “made in the image of God” (Genesis 1:27) and the story of the incarnation itself wherein God offers immeasurable value to human life by taking it upon God’s own self in Jesus Christ. I reflect upon the inescapable God who “created my inmost being” (Psalm 139:13) and whose “love has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit that has been given to us” (Romans 5:5).
As I recall these stories, it becomes a little easier to dig down and offer empathy because digging down reveals the love of God poured out by the Spirit, the image of God within me and within others, and the reality that our intrinsic value is born of God’s action, not our own. What wonderful and needed reminders not only in the time of COVID or in this divisive election season here in the United States but in all places in all times! We have incredible stories in our tradition to shape not only our ability to offer empathy but to build up our courage to speak justice to power and to witness to the ways of peace. Perhaps not more than ever but just as much as ever, these are stories worth telling.
I have struggled to think of stories outside of religious traditions or myth that help us see this intrinsic value in others. This does not mean they do not exist, but we live in a world where value (or worth) is most often measured by one’s actions and even one’s productivity. The earth, herself, is seen by many as valuable only because of what can be procured from her fragile body. People are measured by their impact on the economy. The Accra Confession states aptly many of the mindsets and objectives of our current economic systems that contribute to the ways in which we tie value (or worth) to achievement.
But I wonder if true empathy can ever be born from any story that begins with human action or achievement. If we base our ability to offer empathy solely on value that is assigned or shaped by human action then anyone whose actions differ from what we see as proper or productive will be subject to scrutiny rather than empathy; they will not have behaved in a way that deems their life intrinsically valuable to us so they will be undeserving of empathy. But the stories we tell within our Christian tradition offer much for consideration toward these questions with which we and our friends wrestled and to these moments in which empathy is dearly needed.
So, I find myself going back to these formational stories of our faith—stories I know to offer inherent value to human life not because of human action but because of divine action. I consider the creation story in which we are told we are “made in the image of God” (Genesis 1:27) and the story of the incarnation itself wherein God offers immeasurable value to human life by taking it upon God’s own self in Jesus Christ. I reflect upon the inescapable God who “created my inmost being” (Psalm 139:13) and whose “love has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit that has been given to us” (Romans 5:5).
As I recall these stories, it becomes a little easier to dig down and offer empathy because digging down reveals the love of God poured out by the Spirit, the image of God within me and within others, and the reality that our intrinsic value is born of God’s action, not our own. What wonderful and needed reminders not only in the time of COVID or in this divisive election season here in the United States but in all places in all times! We have incredible stories in our tradition to shape not only our ability to offer empathy but to build up our courage to speak justice to power and to witness to the ways of peace. Perhaps not more than ever but just as much as ever, these are stories worth telling.
—Rev. Karl Heimbuck
Pastor, First Presbyterian Church
Sheridan, Wyoming, USA
Karl has served the church by engaging in peace and reconciliation work in Northern Ireland and affordable housing work in Tucson, Arizona, but quite enjoys now making his home at the base of the Bighorn Mountains.