Thoughts from a Narrator

This weekend, I had the privilege to be part of the Sand Springs Community Theatre production of Into the Woods, which is kind of a mash-up of several fairy tales. In this production I play the Narrator, who kind of guides the play along. As such, I thought I would offer this fairy tale of my own.

Many cultures use fairy tales to teach lessons and morals to children. Soren Kierkegaard, the great Danish philosopher of the 19th century, once wrote his own version of a fairy tale to help explain the good news of God’s love. He said, There once “was a king who loved a humble maiden. The king was like no other king. Every statesman trembled before his power. No one dared to breathe a word against him, for he had the strength to crush all opponents. And yet this mighty king was melted by love for a humble maiden.

“How could he declare his love for her? In an odd sort of way, his very kingliness tied his hands. If he brought her to his palace and crowned her head with jewels and clothed her body in royal robes, she would surely not resist; no one dared resist him. But would she love him? She would say she loved him, of course, but would she truly? Or would she live with him in fear, nursing a private grief for the life she had left behind. Would she be happy at his side? How could he know?

“If he rode to her forest cottage in his royal carriage, with an armed escort waving bright banners, that too would overwhelm her. He did not want a cringing subject. He wanted a lover, an equal. He wanted her to forget that he was a king and she a humble maiden and to let shared love cross over the gulf between them. For it is only in love that the unequal can be made equal,” concluded Kierkegaard.

“And so the king, convinced that he could not elevate the maiden without crushing her freedom, resolved to descend. He clothed himself as a beggar and approached her cottage incognito, with a worn cloak fluttering loosely about him. It was no mere disguise he took on, but a new identity. For, you see, he renounced the throne to win her hand.”¹

C. S. Lewis once famously wrote, “The heart of Christianity is a myth (you could also say fairy tale) which is also a fact.”² His point is that the power of these stories, of this story, is not in its fiction, but in the wonderful fact that it’s all true. God loves us just like we are. Jesus came and died for your sins, and mine, to bring us back to our loving Heavenly Father. That is the message we have the great privilege to share with the world.

1.      A paraphrase of Soren Kierkegaard, Philosophical Fragments, pp. 31-43, by Philip Yancey in his book Disappointment with God, pp. 103-104.

2.      C. S. Lewis. God in the Dock, “Myth Became Fact.” Wm. B. Eerdmans, Grand Rapids, MI:1970.  p. 66.

Judgmental Finger Pointing

I remember when I was younger, I was told that you should never point your finger at someone, because there are always three more fingers pointing back at you! Obviously, the reference was to discourage judgmentalism, and perhaps it is time to revive that image.

No one would argue that we seem to be living in a time of increased intolerance and judgmentalism. It is a time when people seem prone to finger pointing; to ways of assigning blame for problems, issues, and mistakes.

Just last week, I read a blog in which the writer violently blasted the intolerance of those who supported a certain position. Those opinionated goats were characterized by all sorts of evil, their parentage called into question, and even their individual value as persons. There was much profanity.

As I read the article, what struck me most profoundly was the fact that the writer was expressing an opinion with just as much hate and intolerance as those she criticized. It was all I could do not to respond, throwing more fuel on the fire.

It seems like every day we read and watch the news about intolerance and incivility in our society. One group or person commits a hateful act, and the response seems to be to commit an even more hateful act, escalating the conflict. What are we to do?

In my devotional reading this week I listened to Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount. His thoughts on the matter are, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged,” (MT 7:1). This is more than a suggestion or wish. It is a law of life, just as certain as the Law of Gravity is part of our physical universe. Jesus goes on, “For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the same measure you get.” If you are harsh and critical of others, that is the way life will pay you back. If you are angry and loveless and uncaring, that is the way you will be treated by others.

The Apostle Paul is even more clear in Romans 2:1 when he says, “when you pass judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, are doing the very same things.” That is quite an indictment. How is it that we seem to see so clearly in others what is equally present in our own lives, but which we are either unwilling or unable to see?

Oswald Chambers says it this way, “The reason we see hypocrisy, deceit, and a lack of genuineness in others is that they are all in our own hearts. The greatest characteristic of a saint is humility.” The proper response to hate and evil in the world is not to meet it head on with more hate, but rather, to recognize that we are just as hateful as those we would criticize. We have no right to judge because we are capable of any evil we see exhibited in others, and would, no doubt, give in to it if not for the grace of God.

Do we see sinfulness in others? No doubt we do, but it is only because we are so familiar with that particular sin, since it lives and flourishes in us, as well. The way to counteract hate is not with more hate, but with love and forgiveness. That is one of the most difficult challenges Christ calls us to, and one we could never hope to meet except for the power of God’s Holy Spirit living and working within us.

So, remember the old adage about three fingers pointing back at you when you point yours at someone else. Let it be a reminder of our own foibles and frailty, and let it be a reminder to throw ourselves onto the mercy of God. As the famous quote, attributed to John Bradford, reminds us, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.”