Why Jesus Taught In Parables
Yesterday we looked at how story can be used to share truth in a way that can be more easily received or just more beautifully and creatively shared. Today, let’s look at the example Jesus gave us for sharing truth through story: parables.
There are a lot of scholarly arguments out there for why Jesus spoke in parables, and I encourage you to study up if you’re interested in further analysis. For my purposes regarding holistic body theology and what we do with our bodies in the world, I have four reasons to share with you today.
Jesus spoke in parables…
1) so that only those whose hearts were ready would understand. Part of Jesus’ reason for sharing truth in parables was to fulfill the Isaiah’s prophecy that some would hear and not understand (Is 6:9-10; Mt 13:13-15). In fact, Jesus even used a parable to explain why he spoke in parables in Luke 8:4-15. As he later explained to his disciples, the hearts that were ready to hear God’s truth would understand, and the seed of truth would take root in their hearts and grow (vs. 15).
Sometimes we’re not ready to hear a truth from God. Maybe we’re locked in sinful behavior. Maybe we’re overcome with guilt and shame. Maybe we’re already wrestling with different truth from God, and adding one more would be too much all at once. God knows us intimately, from the hairs on our heads to the deepest secrets we won’t even admit to ourselves. God knows just when to reveal truth to us, when we’re finally ready to receive it and make use of it in our lives, and that revelation will never come too soon…or too late.
2) so that there would be more room for people to relate to the story in different ways. Most of the time, when Jesus told a parable, he was speaking to a crowd of people. These people were made up of both men and women, children and adults, poor and wealthy, religious leaders and laypeople. Often when Jesus was teaching, he had a different message for each audience, but rather than address each group individually, which would have taken forever, Jesus told one story that would teach each group a different lesson.
Take, for example, the parable of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37). Now, Jesus is speaking to the “expert in the law,” so the most obvious meaning of the parable is directed at people who fit in that category. But not everyone listening to the story was an expert in the law. Should they have just watched a fly land on some bread or pick blades of grass while Jesus was teaching a lesson that didn’t apply to them?
Consider the characters in this story:
a traveler – the victim of multiple crimes
a group of robbers – the perpetrators, motivated by greed (maybe hatred or anger) but not brave enough to act alone
a priest – the “man of God” who was more concerned about keeping the letter of the law (blood was considered “unclean” and required purification rituals) than showing compassion
a Levite – the member of the “priestly” clan, see above, also a man of importance and influence in the community
a Samaritan – the member of a group hated by Jewish people for their conflicting beliefs on correct worship of God who provided sacrificially to help the traveler despite racisim
an inkeeper – the man who provided the means to help the traveler heal, but only because he was paid
Ask yourself, who would you be in the story? Be honest. Maybe you take advantage of people when they’re vulnerable. Maybe you feel working with victims is beneath you or too much trouble. Maybe you are willing to help, but only if you get something back.
Jesus’ parables are multidimensional, multilayered, and designed with every member of the audience in mind–not just the people present on the hillside that day, but the people who have been reading the parables for centuries after.
3) so that he could get to the deeper truth behind the black-and-white Jewish law in a short time. For all his 33 years on earth, Jesus only spent 3 years in ministry. In only three years, Jesus had to squeeze in all the truth and promise and love available to the community of God in the present time and in all the time to come. Jesus had only three years to usher in the kingdom of God. And that was before the Internet and Skype and media and blogs and all the technological advances of our day. Jesus had only three years to bring the truth to the world, and he had to depend on human minds and hands to remember his teachings and write them down for future generations.
At the time that Jesus was teaching, Jewish law had expanded from the 10 Commandments of Moses’ time to hundreds of detailed, specific laws for every daily action, word, and thought. If Jewish law were a funnel, the 10 Commandments would be at the broad end at the top, and the law in Jesus’ day would be the little tip at the bottom. They had a law for everything, an exhaustive list of dos and don’ts that spanned a person’s entire existence from birth to death. So when Jesus showed up in town and started teaching, the experts wanted to know what laws Jesus was upholding, what laws he was breaking, and why.
But Jesus reminded his listeners in Matthew 5:17 that he had come to fulfill the law, to bring God’s truth for righteous living to its fullest completion, in freedom. That’s a tall order for only three years of ministry. Jesus’ parables were a way to reach down into the deeper truth of God, cutting through the black-and-white theology of their day. By refusing to engage in endless debate, Jesus was able to leave a timeless message of love, grace, and mercy through story.
4) so that human beings with human ears could through a human story relate to the divine truth in the human/divine Jesus. More than anything else, Jesus’ parables are a reflection of God’s choice to relate to us through the Incarnation. God sent Jesus–the Truth–in human form to walk like us, talk like us, and be like us. Jesus, the divine/human being, chose to speak to us in story, with human characters and a divine message. Our Emmanuel, this God-with-us, chose to bridge the gap between divine truth and human understanding with stories that allow us to meditate, ruminate, debate, delve, dwell, and finally discover some kernel of the Truth that God loves us, knows us intimately, and designed us to love and know God and each other in just the same way. The story of God is more than just written words in the Bible; the Word of God came as living flesh to live out the story of God among us.
If that doesn’t get you excited, I don’t know what will. Tomorrow we’ll take a look at how we can follow Jesus’ example to love and know intimately our brothers and sisters in the community of God, the body of Christ.
Parable and Truth
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, the 2007 French film that won numerous awards and was nominated for more including four Oscar nominations, is the true story of Elle editor Jean-Dominique Bauby. Bauby suffered a stroke and lived his remaining years “locked in” to a body completely paralyzed except for his left eye. He uses this eye, through coded blinking, to dictate his memoir of the same name. I find something extraordinarily beautiful about the way Bauby chooses to express himself poetically despite the tediousness of the task and the utterly humiliating state of being he is reduced to from his former position of influence and affluence.
Watching films like this make me wonder at the amazing imagination we have been given. Story has often been considered falsehood or at best escapism, yet the tide is shifting as we come to realize the power of imagination for good purpose. Indeed, our imagination is just one way we are imaging our Creator. We have an imaginative God who speaks to us in more than just a list of dos and don’ts. So, too, do we have this ability to share truth through story.
When I was in seminary, my Storytelling professor, Olive Drane, told us a story about the twin boys Truth and Parable. In the story, Truth has an urgent message to share with his town. In his haste, Truth runs into the town square stark naked, shouting his news to all who will hear him. But the townspeople are horrified by Truth’s display, beat him, and send him away.
Discouraged, Truth returns home to his twin brother, Parable, who is well-respected in the town. Parable cleans his brother’s wounds, gives Truth his own clothes to cover his nakedness, and encourages Truth to try again. This time, when Truth returns to the town square wearing Parable’s clothes, the townspeople listen to his message and accept him.
But might people miss the truth we want to convey if we cover it with story? Isn’t it safer to speak the truth plainly and ensure we are heard?
Even artists disagree on the appropriate balance between story and truth. Poet Emily Dickinson wrote famously, “Tell all the Truth but tell it slant.” Yet Southern short story author Flannery O’Connor one wrote in an article that she was determined to write her message “in large print on the wall so that the blind could see it.” Is it subtlety, then, or shouting that wins the day? To put it another way, how many layers of Parable’s clothes must Truth wear before the townspeople will accept him?
Perhaps it depends on the message. Perhaps it depends on the artist. Perhaps it depends on the audience.
In the film, Bauby shares his life story in painful detail, yet the success of his life lies not in his worldly accomplishments but in his ability to imagine, to feed his soul though he is “locked in.” Rather than dictating a minimalist report of his life, which would have been so much easier, Bauby chooses to make the extra effort to show the truth of his experience and the truth of the person he has come to be–with all his flaws–through story.
Bauby didn’t set out to write a book. He didn’t grow up taking creative writing classes or attending seminars. He was a magazine editor, interested in the world of fashion. But he had something to say, and before he died, he took the time to say it. And the world is better for having heard and learned from his story.
Maybe you think to yourself, I’m not an artist. I don’t have a story to tell. But you’re wrong. Everyone has a story. Maybe it’s not a fable like the Princess and the Pea. Maybe it’s not an award-winning novel like The Old Man and the Sea. But it’s part of who you are. And the world will be better off having your story, too.
Jesus, who is the Truth, spoke often in parable and usually refused to explain himself even to his disciples. We’ll take a look at why Jesus spoke in parables tomorrow.
Sharing Our Stories
In high school, I went on a mission trip to Brazil to perform a mimed drama to Portuguese narration as a form of evangelism. We “told” the story of the Toymaker who sent his Son to Toyland to break the Evil Magician’s barrier of Greed, Hate, Fear, Pride, and Anxiety and restore the relationship of the Toys with the Toymaker who loved them. I remember the one day out of our time in Brazil when our group had the highest response to our story.
Everything else had gone wrong that day, so it was no surprise to us when—after we had gathered children and their parents on the playground, broken the ice with funny skits, and taken up our positions to begin the drama—the sound equipment failed. It took two hours to fix the problem, and in the meantime, our group had to figure out how to entertain nearly 60 children to keep them from leaving.
So we played with them, pushing them on the swings and riding with them on the see-saw. Even though we couldn’t exchange a word, we bonded through a common activity, so that when we finally performed the drama to tell God’s story to people who longed to hear it, every hand went up across the crowd. Every child, every parent wanted to know more about this Toymaker who we’d gone to so much trouble to tell them about.
That was my introduction to “the ministry of hanging out,” building relationships through common experiences and then sharing our stories with each other when vulnerability has become possible. I took that lesson to heart and expanded it in college when a friend and I instituted “Tea in the Hallway.” Every night from 11 at night until whenever people went to bed (which was sometimes as late as 6 in the morning!), my friend and I hosted anyone who wanted to come sit in the hallway, drink some tea (or apple cider for those less inclined), and talk about anything at all. Some nights we had debates about philosophy and God. Other nights, we took care of inebriated students. And occasionally, when most people had gone to bed, someone would linger over a mug of tea and whisper shameful secrets or painful experiences, just because in that moment of vulnerability, there was a raw need for sharing the story in a safe space.
It was during these occasional moments that I learned, really learned, how to listen.
Listening came in handy when I began my honors research project my senior year of college as an exploration into the realm of creative non-fiction. Over almost a year, I interviewed family members and friends of my grandfather, who had died just two years before. I learned quickly that it only took one or two questions to get the ball rolling, and then all I had to do was try to keep up as the stories and reflections poured out.
The story of my grandfather became the story of my family, and my story, too. And in telling these stories, I learned how to clothe the truth in…well, story. Here are some of my reflection on the nature of story and storytelling (or writing) when trying to capture not just what a person said and did but the true essence of a person:
Family stories are all connected. Pleasant or not, it’s hard to separate ourselves from someone in whom we have part of our identity. In fact, to do so would be to deny part of the story. In this way his story becomes our story, too.
When I presented my work to the faculty, I introduced my process this way:
I always liked Chaucer’s line from the movie A Knight’s Tale, “Yes, I lied. I’m a writer. I give the truth scope!” Scope is what I wanted to give my readers in this effort at cultivating a creative piece of writing. It is an essay in the true sense: an effort, a try, as I looked for the balance between historicity and fiction, and I found the tight-rope called memory.
What I want to point out is the flexibility of memory. I was so intrigued at the different little things people remember about my grandfather, and more particularly, the way they remember them. For instance, there is a hot debate at the moment between my mother and one of my uncles over whether my grandfather used to be referred to on the mission field as a “wild man” or as a “wild Indian.” Not that it matters, but the point is that our memories are fluid things, always moving and changing and impressionable. And faulty.
I have taken it upon myself in this little work to sort through all the memories from the interview process as well as the contributions made by email and online posts. I sorted through all the conflicting images and stories, to the reality of who he was not just actually but as we remember him.
This balance between fiction and historical fact is what the gospel writers struggled with as they told their different stories about the same Jesus. When we share our own stories with each other, there is always that element of choice involved. We filter our stories according to the audience and the level of intimacy reached. What I am learning through these experiences is how to foster that level of intimacy, how to create safe space for people to be vulnerable and share their stories.
It is only through sharing that community is truly built, especially in contemporary society where emphasis is placed on the individual, on being self-sufficient. We succeed, and we succeed on our own. And when we get to the top, we are lonely and ashamed of what we did to make it there. We look around for a safe space to apologize, to make it right, and to try again. It is the church’s job to provide that safe space, in whatever way possible.
Holistic body theology is about more than who we are and what we look like. It’s also about what we do with our bodies in the world. We were not created to be alone but to be in community. Through our stories, we connect with deep truth within ourselves, we connect with each other, and we connect with God.
This week, we’ll explore the power of story both for speaking truth and for fostering community. For today, think of your experience with story, and share in a comment box below.
Forward Friday: My Identity In Christ
Adapted from “Morning Affirmations” by Kenneth Boa
Every morning for a month, try beginning the day by reading aloud the following scriptural affirmations. If you like to journal, keep track of your thoughts and comments about yourself over the month. Note any verses that have special meaning for you or impact on your daily life. Allow God to reveal to you the truth about yourself. Ask God to help you replace the lies you may have been believing with these truths.
1) “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me, and delivered himself up for me.” (Galatians 2:20)
2) I have forgiveness from the penalty of sin because Christ died for me. (Romans 5:8; 1 Corinthians 15:3)
3) I have freedom from the power of sin because I died with Christ. (Colossians 2:11; 1 Peter 2:24)
4) I have fulfillment for this day because Christ lives in me. (Philippians 1:20-21)
5) By faith, I will allow Christ to manifest his life though me. (2 Corinthians 2:14)
There is so much more God tells us about who we are. Find some for yourself and share them in the comments section.
Guest Post: Insecurity and the Media
Introducing my first guest poster: Matt Cavanaugh
There is power in security. This may pertain to financial security… intellectual security… or physical security.
For years leading up to the neo-women’s lib movement of the 90’s, marketing guru’s assaulted women with example after example of how women needed to attain a physical standard possible for very few women. This marketing strategy was consistently successful and led to mondo sales in makeup products, corrective surgeries, and anything else that would propose to fix a woman’s sense of insecurity. However, in the 90’s and early 2000’s, the tide began to change and the standards set forth for women began to be a bit more attainable. More and more women became comfortable (or more comfortable at least) in their own skin. The result? Marketing guru’s shifted their focus more to men: specifically towards creating insecurities towards men.
In came the erectile dysfunction ads, the increase in male skin being shown in magazines, countless haircare products aimed at preventing baldness, diet pills specific for men, etc… These marketing strategies worked and lucrative companies were birthed around “curing” men of these insecurities. Eating disorders and depression became more common in men. Physical insecurity, specifically, has become a much more prominent issue for men in the last two decades.
So what does this have to do with body theology? In truth, everything. How difficult is it to worship the Lord, to feel proud, to feel confident when a person feels overwhelming shame and guilt towards their own appearance? Talk about handcuffing!
The fact of the matter is that both men and women are increasingly under attack within the media of today’s world. So what do we do? Do we unplug from the media around us? That is for you to decide for yourself. Me…well… I choose to remain connected to tv, radio, movies, magazines… but I always attempt to see media for what it is: entertainment that often promotes a false reality. I’m never going to look like Brad Pitt or David Beckham and I’m completely ok with that.
My goal in life, in faith, and in everything else is to heed Tony Horton’s advice in his P90x workout routine: “To do my best and forget the rest.” My best is good enough for myself, the people that care for me, and most importantly, my Lord and Savior who loves me and my imperfections all the same.
Matt Cavanaugh is a blogger, newspaper columnist, avid hiker, and lover of the outdoors. You can read about his many excursions at OutdoorsInCali.com.
Identity in Christ
Yesterday we looked at the dangers of self-deprecation and believing lies about ourselves. Sometimes we can get caught up in what the world, other people, and even what we say about ourselves. When that happens, it’s much harder to recognize the truth anymore. Sometimes we can be so overcome by the lies we believe about ourselves that we no longer hear God’s speaking truth over us.
But we’re in luck. God tells us all about who God is and who we as Christians are because of God. God is the great I Am, the Beginning and the End. There is nothing that God does not understand or know about or control. Despite sin and evil in the world, God’s opinion of us has not changed because of who we are in Christ. Finding the truth about ourselves is as simple as cracking open a book. Let’s take a little tour this morning and hit some of the highlights.
God created us in the image of God. (Gen 1:27)
We are God’s good creation. (Gen 1:31)
Our bodies are not shamful. (Gen 2:25)
God created our spirits and our bodies from the moment of conception. (Ps 139:13)
We have the Spirit of Truth living in us. (Jn 14:16-17)
We are like Christ not only in death but also in the resurrection. (Rom 6:5; Rom 8:10-11)
There is no condemnation for us because of Jesus. (Rom 8:1-2)
We are the temple of God. (1Cor 3:16)
We are part of the body of Christ in equality because of the Holy Spirit. (1Cor 12:13)
We are being transformed into the image of God by the Holy Spirit. (2Cor 3:18)
Our bodies contain the glory of God. (2Cor 4:6-7)
We are new creations. (2Cor 5:17)
We are the children of God and God’s heirs. (Gal 4:6-7)
We are complete in Christ. (Col 2:10)
We are new and are being renewed according to the image of God. (Col 3:9-10)
We are from God and are overcomers. (1Jn 4:4)
These are just a few of the truths God has shared with us through scripture about our identity through Christ. Next time you’re tempted to believe lies about yourself, go back to this list and remind yourself of the truth of who you are.
When God’s truth is the basis for our identity, we are better equipped to be discerning about messages we receive elsewhere. More on that tomorrow.
Powerful Words
I used to be very self-deprecating.
Growing up, I developed a very low opinion of myself, and because of what I thought about myself, I assumed that’s what everyone else thought about me, too. We all know how mean children can be to each other, and I learned early on that it was safer to make fun of myself before other people had a chance to highlight my faults. Even when the other kids weren’t being mean, I went right on protecting myself with self-deprecating comments until what I said about myself became what I believed about myself.
Dictionary.com defines self-deprecation as “belittling or undervaluing oneself; excessively modest.” As I got older and learned in Sunday School about the dangers of pride, I thought my self-deprecation fell into the category of false humility. I thought I made derogatory comments about myself and deflected compliments because I really had a too-high opinion of myself and was trying to mask my excessive pride. So I tried to lower my opinion of myself even more and reject any praise as pride. I thought I was finished caring what other people thought about me.
What I didn’t realize was that I cared an awful lot about what I thought of myself.
Fast forward a few more years, and I began to realize that deflecting compliments only made the conversation longer as people persisted in highlighting something positive about myself that I could not believe or receive. Prolonging the conversation with self-deprecation only made me more uncomfortable and the compliment-giver try harder to convince me they were right. So I began to thank people and immediately change the subject so they would think I had really accepted the compliment when in fact I knew that accepting a compliment (which in my mind was synonymous with caring what others think) was only being prideful.
Then one day while I was working in the bookstore as a graduate student, I had a God-moment. Without any provocation and while having a conversation with my coworker about something completely unrelated, I realized I had been self-deprecating for so many years because I had low self-esteem.
Now, low self-esteem was always something other people had, those sorry individuals who were chained to the opinions of others, or maybe my 7th-grade self. But no, not the graduate student with big dreams of becoming a writer someday and making a real difference in the world. I didn’t have low-self esteem. I had pride and false humility and clever tricks to refocus a conversation. I was self-deprecating because it was funny or charming…or true.
Uh-oh. There it was: the truth. I was self-deprecating because I believed I was little and had no value. I deflected compliments not to be modest but because I believed I was unworthy of any praise. I was self-deprecating because that was what I really believed about myself.
So I decided, right in the middle of that unrelated conversation with my coworker, to try a little experiment. If I really believed what I said about myself, maybe I could improve my self-esteem by saying something appreciative about myself. At that moment, my coworker said, “That’s a good point.” And I said, “Thank you. I make excellent points.”
Now, I was being hyperbolic, and he knew it, and we both chuckled and carried on with our discussion. It was a small moment. My coworker probably never noticed anything had changed. But I did. I noticed. And I haven’t stopped noticing.
Maybe some of you lovely readers really do struggle with pride or false humility, and I have been there, too. It’s an easy trap to fall into, but this post isn’t meant to warn you against false humility. It’s to warn you against the other side of that coin.
What we think about ourselves matters, and what we say about ourselves influences what we think about ourselves. Our words have power. (There’s actual brain stuff involved there, but I’ll save the science for another day.) So next time you make a comment about yourself, think about what you’re saying, and ask yourself if it’s true. Maybe it’s what you believe about yourself, but is it really true?
Maybe you’re like me. Maybe you’re not sure what’s true anymore. Maybe you’ve gotten so wrapped up in what your friends say, what your parents say, what your classmates or coworkers say, what your boss says, what that magazine quiz you took in the check-out isle says, what the movies and TV shows and self-help books and all the rest of the world says about who you are that you can’t hear what God says anymore. God’s voice was drowned out a long time ago, and now you’re not sure you can believe anything you think you hear, even from yourself.
Well, then you’re in luck. God wrote down a bunch of the stuff we need to know about who we are. (We’ll take a look at some of that stuff tomorrow.)
So for all you self-deprecators out there, next time you start to make a comment about yourself, try a little experiment. Try saying something nice about yourself instead. You’ll probably still make a joke out of it. You probably still won’t believe it. At first. But try it again the next day, and the next.
God just might surprise you by speaking to you in your own powerful words.
Holistic Body Theology 