13 January 2013

Myths, Parables, and Narrative Theology

In light of the reflection I gave on the first Sunday of Advent, have been reading more about story these days, and especially about narrative theology --- a form of theology which became popular after I had completed my graduate work in systematics. I have been intrigued for some time by the power of story to introduce us to the Kingdom of God, to create a sacred space where we can meet Jesus alone face to face, so to speak, and hear his summons and consider the life and values he is calling us to; similarly I have been intrigued by story's power to bridge the gap between head and heart and call for a centered act of the whole person while allowing us to suspend disbelief, cynicism, exaggerated criticalness or rationalism and leaving these behind as we enter the world of the story. In the past here I have written about the human being as language event, Jesus as the embodiment of God's own story, the way stories work, and a number of other related ideas. Late though I am in all of this, I am more excited than I can say about the possibilities for systematic theology, homiletics, pastoral ministry, etc, offered by narrative and narrative theology.

After the Flood
In part of my related reading I picked up a slender volume of John Dominic Crossan's entitled, The Dark Interval, Towards a Theology of Story. As part of this book Crossan refers to a spectrum of literary forms with myth at one end and parable at the other --- both of which I have written about here a number of times. I especially wanted to share an observation Crossan made about the relationship of these two literary forms since they are both so significant to or Scriptures. He writes  (in agreement with many writers) that myth is the way we reconcile irreducible opposites. Myth is a way we create a consistent world view; it is the way we tell ourselves the story of reality in a way which harmonizes conflicts and brings peace. It is an agent of reconciliation and belief in the possibility of reconciliation, of stability rather than change.

Of parable (again in agreement with a number of authors) he writes that parable catches at the hidden edges and borders of myth. It functions to bring or create "contradiction within a situation of complacent security, and even more unnervingly, it challenges the fundamental fact of reconciliation by making us aware that we made up the reconciliation."  In other words, ". . . it brings a sword rather than peace and casts fire on the earth that receives it." It is an agent of change and a transcendent stability which overarches any stability we might create with myth, etc. Then as a kind of summary, Crossan writes, that myth assures us "You have built a lovely home" while parables reveal to us " the earthquake fault" that lies under the house! I was blown away by this image of the relationship between these two types of literature (parable is actually also a form of word event) and simply wanted to share it. (Besides since I am continuing reading in this area, more about it will be pertinent here no doubt.) Both are critical to human life, but when we look at the subversive character of Jesus and the word events he created we can see how truly countercultural his disciples are called to be and how much more radical and paradoxical the peace and reconciliation he brings.