Lydia Malone, Duke Divinity School student and 2011 Umoja Project intern

Psalm 105:16-19

16When he summoned famine against the land, and broke every staff of bread,

17he had sent a man ahead of them, Joseph, who was sold as a slave.

18His feet were hurt with fetters, his neck was put in a collar of iron;

19until what he had said came to pass, the word of the Lord kept testing him.

REFLECTION

Today’s passage reminds me of a great story, and the psalmist reminds me of a great storyteller. Now we’ve all encountered bad storytellers. There’s the one who gives so much detail that you await the end of his story like you do the second coming. And then there’s another whose story lacks so much detail that you wonder what the point of it was, or the one who mixes details of different stories and forgets the point himself. Then there’s the one who is so utterly amused at his own story that he is the only one who enjoys it. But the worst, the absolute worst, is the person who continues to tell a story that you’ve already heard, after you’ve said to him, “Yea… you told me.” At first glance, it looks like the psalmist is the worst offender. After all, she uses Psalm 105 to recount a story that God’s people have heard many times before. But when we take a closer look, we find that she offers incredible insight regarding the significance of the story to all believer.

While preparing my reflection I was attentive to the fact that many of you have had some type of interaction with our Kenyan brothers and sisters through the Umoja Project, and I did not want to offer you a story that you had already heard. But I realize that my assignment today is not to entertain you with exciting or sentimental stories as though you were reading Chicken Soup for the Soul. Rather it is to worship with you, so God can remind us of how important it is to tell the right story, the right way.

In her recounting of Israel’s stories, the psalmist mentions some great people of the faith; Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph and Moses. But she is careful to emphasize God’s deeds, not simply those of the people. This is evident even in our short passage with the language she uses that records God’s activity. It is clear that God sends famine on the land, that God sends Joseph as part of God’s plan of provision, and that God’s word continues to test, or refine Joseph. The psalmist teaches us that telling, and retelling, and retelling stories of God’s faithfulness are vital to our faith, and that though God calls us to participate in these stories, we are never the main focus of the narrative.

Our Kenyan brothers and sisters have learned this lesson well. They are keenly aware of God’s presence and activity, waiting in anticipation for what they have already seen, careful to frame their experiences and stories through a theocentric lens. Stories of joy are narrated with God’s blessing; stories of pain and suffering are narrated with God’s providence; stories of loss and grief are narrated by God’s comfort; stories of lack and abundance are narrated with God’s provision; and stories of daily living are narrated through God’s faithfulness and presence. Everyday activities like praying upon entering a house to acknowledge God for giving us a safe journey home; and thanking God for rain, or for the ability to catch a matatu quickly, or for fresh eggs… all of these actions are demonstrations of remembrance and acknowledgement. The faith of many Kenyan brothers and sisters is incredibly strong, partly because they recognize how important it is to tell the right story, the right way. Like the psalmist, they reiterate God’s activity rather than that of people in narrating and understanding life’s events. Like the psalmist, they teach us that our feelings, our positions, and even our perceptions are valid, but all of these come secondary to God’s activity. Like the psalmist, they show us that the correct posture for approaching and narrating stories is with the question “What is God doing, and how can I be a part of it?”

During my time in Kenya I saw God doing ordinary things in extraordinary ways, and doing extraordinary things in ordinary ways. I saw God forming and strengthening relationships between Christians who had just met. I saw God digging in the soil and harvesting maize. I saw God walking with clumsy Americans who got stuck in the mud during rainy season. I saw God holding a boy suffering from sickle-cell. I saw God using people, in spite of people. I saw God consoling a frustrated seminarian who thought she knew the story of the Gospel, only to find that she was narrating it the wrong way. I saw God doing the same things in Kenya that God is doing at 38th and Meridian. And that is completing a story told thousands of years ago, by calling God’s people to participate in and retell it.

We retell the same story to ward against forgetfulness, lethargy, and irreverence; to remind ourselves that only God is the author and finisher of our faith; to remember that our lives are part of a greater narrative of redemption. We use our lives to both tell and witness to God’s story. So I ask you, what story is your life telling? To what are you testifying? Let that story be one worth retelling. Good stories are worth hearing more than once.

May God give us ears to hear the Gospel story again, so that even if there be moments in which we say to God, “Yea… you told me,” we follow such a statement with a plea; “Now tell me again.”