Stories Collide. Pt. 1

What is reality, what shapes it, and how do I understand my experiences? These questions have been prodding me towards story. Story has been a journey of a thousand miles, begun a long time ago. I grew up a scientific modernist giving lip-service to the possibility of the supernatural, then passing through fundamentalist, and into “biblical”, now I find myself somewhere in a matrix of post-modern/modern/undecided/conglomerate. What I have learned through this development is that the story one lives into shapes all arguments, experience, actions, and epistemology.

I was blessed with a lot of dissonance in my life. I grew up in a “Christian North American” story. It was a story that held to a scientific modernist understanding of the world, but refused to take it to the extreme of excluding the supernatural. This, however, was brutally interrupted by a jaunt to a post-religious/secular/European worldview and story when I lived in England; I was twelve and thirteen years old. The stories clashed, I was too young to understand the significance of such an experience. It is hard to describe the clash of story, they do not battle openly with argumentation that is easy to follow, but a feeling is evident. A feeling of being unsettled. A story is supposed to follow a plot, but when the first story is interrupted and a second story enters in the middle, there is a sense of loss. The flow is incomplete, there is no past and the present seems to have no grounding.

Upon returning to North America, I attempted to pick up my old story, but it was now disjointed. One attempts to reconcile the themes, motifs, and symbols of a different story. It was with this muddled story I entered Bible College. Little did I know I was about to disturb my story in unimaginable ways. Coming from the Christian Reformed Story, I entered the Anabaptist Story. I attempted to “argue” the stories, but I ran into the same problem as before, stories do not respond well to argument. They are different with different pasts. Instead, stories syncretise, usually to the detriment of both. Stories have a funny way of picking the worst of both, rather than the best. It is not that the best parts cannot come together to make a better story, but that takes active participation by the character (you and me). I saw an example of bad syncretism in East Africa where Christianity comes with consumerism, modernity, and hyper-spirituality, but does not get rid of the tribalism, thus blending the negatives (tribalism, consumerism, and modernity) and the positive seem negligible (loyalty, direction, hope). Similar awful syncretism led me to a brief period as a fundamentalist. I syncretised the scientific absolutism of modernism with the Bible. It resulted with a “data quest” into the Bible. I attempted to pull out the absolutes. (This is my critique of Systematic Theology, even when not “fundamentalist”, it is a syncretism of a scientific method with a story. It does not ask the questions of the story, rather it imposes the questions of another story – Greek influenced scientific thought – onto the biblical story).

In reaction to fundamentalism, I attempted to become a purist. For a few years, I attempted to understand the biblical story, attempting to read it on its own terms. This was going well, but then I went to East Africa. This cross-cultural experience rattled my “bible only” conception of truth and reality. The “same” Christian stories clashed, this shook my naïve understanding that one’s private experience is able to arrive at a purist Biblical understanding. Rather one’s private experience and story will completely subvert the entire story. Our private experiences ultimately determine our stories, what flows in and that which is discarded. I came to this conclusion as I sat across from another reading the same text, we both claimed it as authoritative, and we would come to completely different understandings, each significantly shaped by our cultures. The common ground seemed negligible compared to the differences. Everything is relative. Thus ended my purist pursuit.

Where does one go from complete relativity? N.T. Wright goes to critical realism, a noble option, but a method still rooted in a Greek history. Others walk forward into post-modernity with their arm open come what may. Yet others revert, either back into modernity, fundamentalism and its syncretism, or even to a pre-modern-esque type of understanding. This is the crossroads many of us encounter; it is a crossroad I continue to navigate. It is here Story becomes significant. Newbigin’s book “The Gospel in a Pluralist Society” argues for the church as the agent telling the Gospel story and thus persuading the world. Here Duncan’s articulation of Gospel becomes incredibly important; for if Gospel is a part of the story it can be persuasive and syncretised into our stories becoming a story changer. However, if it is a coercive, totalizing, story it co-opts our stories and leads to bad syncretism.

I am attempting to create some hermeneutics for myself as I wallow through this nebulous crossroad. First, honesty. It does me no good to neglect my past or the biases I know I hold. I must be as honest as possible, lay my cards out and attempt to proceed with all the guidance there. Second, virtue. What do I want to become? What do I want my story to look like? Here I lay down my card of compassion. If it is not compassionate, I ought to consider alternatives. Third, story. I must continually remind myself not to argue myself into the “correct” option, because by doing so I have already been co-opted by one story, that of rational argumentation arising out of the modernist era I grew up in (thus following the first hermeneutic). I must continually open myself to persuasion. What story persuades me to follow hermeneutic two? Fourth, keep the biblical text as authoritative. Thus, as the stories blend together I want the narrative of scripture to have significant weight, specifically life, death, and resurrection, as living, dying, and rising throughout my life, even daily, and hopefully in the cosmos, lead me towards greater compassion (hermeneutic two). Fifth, choose wisely. The ability to choose, to choose what is authoritative, choosing the story one lives into, choosing to ones hermeneutics, I must choose contemplatively.

With that, I find myself at the point of syncretising stories. None of them can be “taken out” as they have all entered into my story, but I can mix and mould. I can choose the back-story of the Bible. Therefore, I can incorporate the Gospel (as Duncan articulated) into my story. I can affirm the story of modernism, its conclusion, and collapse into post-modernism. I can look relativism in the face and walk forward with the most persuasive story I can compile, given my experience, which includes the Gospel and compassion. Further, when I am confronted with other stories, such as in East-Africa, I can affirm the parts that blend, while persuading the parts that clash. This has significant influence on my thoughts on pluralism, because if I truly believe that the story I tell and the parts I have chosen to incorporate, it is honestly the best possible story and the most persuasive, there is reduced fear of bad syncretism if I choose to tackle it head-on.

Some of those reading this might be more than a little bit uncomfortable with my choice of words, specifically syncretism. But you see, I have no choice but to syncretise if I wanted out of (or to change) my original story. Since I cannot erase my past and my mode of though, remembering my first story was that of a scientific modernist in North America and NOT a first century Jew in Palestine, I must syncretise the stories I encounter. If I want to change story it involves delicate syncretism. Or to use more “Christian” words I might choose “conversion”, understanding conversion to be the continued gradual change of my story into one I desire.