Something
happens when we tell a story. It is as if a different part of the brain is
activated. We are not just talking about facts; we are painting images in our
minds.
Once
upon a time, my father had a study with a great big drafting table, and in this
study was an old tabletop AM/FM/SW radio about the size of a modern-day
microwave oven. My Dad set me up with my own little drafting table, and he
would work on these great big drawings of I-don’t-know-what except that I was
sure he was drawing plans that would one day land a man on the moon! On
Saturdays, when he’d work in the study and I would sit at my little drafting
table making my own designs for fantastic machines. Together, we’d listen to a
baseball game over that big radio. He taught me keep a box score… a record of
every play of a baseball game. You did not need television to ‘see’ a baseball
game, just a careful ear, some imagination, and a yellow number two pencil.
Stories
are important parts of our lives. They tell us who we are, what is important to
us and how we understand ourselves. The stories could be from books or movies
or plays or shows, or they could recall something as simple as a picnic, a day
at work, or a funny thing that happened at the store.
How
many times have you heard a group of people who have all seen the same play in
the same ball game tell each other exactly what they saw? They might do it
immediately right in the stands or during the commercial or the next day at
work. Or how many times have you seen a group of people talk about a really
great movie? These are not simply sharing information or confirming that the
other person saw what they saw. They are drawing us into their experience.
We
might not be sitting around a campfire or standing on a stage, but in everyday
life we are all storytellers. And all of today’s scripture readings show us what
it means to be God’s storytellers.
We
are invited by God to share good news and to tell what we have seen and heard.
In
Isaiah, the prophet says that before the servant was born he was called to be one
in whom God would be glorified. He is called to be a light, and not only to
Israel, but to the whole world I will give you as a light to the nations,"
God says to the servant, "that my salvation may reach to the end of the
earth." This salvation is not just for those who know the story, it's meant
for those who have yet to hear it for the first time, wherever they may be.
The
Psalm today says, "I have spoken of your faithfulness and your deliverance."
And in the epistle, Paul talks of his apostolic calling and "the calling
of the Corinthians to give testimony to Christ, to tell of him."
I
particularly love today’s Gospel story. Right after John’s great hymn to the
Logos, the word of God made flesh and dwelling among us, which we heard on
Christmas Day, comes a story of how people first experienced the Logos and then
told their story of the Logos to others.
So
the “Logos” is not merely some Big Idea, it is something people experience and
then talk about.
Look
at all people who tell each other that they have seen Jesus and who they think
Jesus is. John the Baptist points to Jesus and because of that, John, the
Beloved Disciple, and Andrew decide to peel off from following John the Baptist
and start to follow Jesus. Then Andrew tells his brother Peter who out of
curiosity checks Jesus out and decides to follow him too. Next, in a part of
the Gospel we don’t get to hear today, Jesus calls Philip, who then goes and
tells his brother Nathaniel, who—while scoffing—also goes to see this Jesus character
anyway and, because Jesus knows him and can crack a joke, he decides to follow
Jesus too.
Look
at all the ways that we, too, are invited to “come and see” and all the ways we
can tell what we have seen and heard.
Being
invited to “come and see” might satisfy our spiritual curiosity, or it might
awaken it. I don’t know about you, but I find my spiritual curiosity awakened
as I have started following stories of those Buddhist monks walking across the
country in much the same way as I used to follow my favorite ball players when
I was a kid.
And
my spiritual curiosity is activating my imagination to begin to ask “how come?”
and “why?” and “what for?” Why is it that some people are so worried about
immigrants, or strangers, or people different that us? How come? Hmmm.
I have had spiritual directors and pastors sit with me and, after having heard my story... which might be a rambling, disjointed rant or a series of anecdotes looking for a common thread... just sit in silence for a long while, as a cat might look at me with eyes half closed and paws tucked under themselves, and eventually ask "What do you make of that?" or the really pesky "Where might God have been in all that?"
Notice
that God doesn’t come to us in a thunderclap or a big heavenly show. Instead Jesus,
God’s Own Best Expression of God’s Own Self, is made known by word of mouth, in
gospel stories that tickle the imagination and activate our spiritual
curiosity.
Fast
forward to the end of the first chapter of John, we see Jesus describing the
process to Nathaniel. Encountering Jesus… and the people who’ve met and
experienced Jesus…is just like what Jacob saw in his vision of angels on a
heavenly ladder moving between earth and heaven.
This
is how God’s word works: people who have discovered God’s love and learned
God’s love then share God’s love. No one knows what God is up to until we go
and tell someone.
Human
beings are storytellers. We are wired to tell stories because it is how we make
meaning out of living. When we tell our Gospel story it becomes a part of us. Sharing
how God is in our lives makes us more conscious, more aware of how God is at
work in us now.
In
the middle of today’s Gospel, Jesus asks the two disciples "What are you
looking for?" not "What do you want?" Meeting Jesus is not
transactional: this isn’t about what we’ll get if we follow Jesus, It isn’t
about getting spiritual goodies and a nice seat in a heavenly house. No!
Instead, the heart of the story is relational. They meet Jesus and he meets
them!
The
Gospel is also not just about information. Anyone today can look on Wikipedia,
search on Google, or go to the library and find all the information they want.
We don’t lack for information. No, the Gospel is compelling because it tugs our
hearts as much as our minds.
Notice
that two disciples did not ask Jesus, “what are you doing?” They asked,
"Where are you staying?" Yes, the disciples were curious, but what
they are looking for is a different kind
of information. They are looking for a place to be, a place to rest, a
place—a person with whom the can “abide.”
And that’s what we are all looking for—often without knowing it—a place to stay,
a place to be.
Once
upon a time, the poet Kathleen Norris moved to the plains of South Dakota. She
was returning to a place where her family had lived and had deep roots. One day,
she went to a tavern and had a conversation with an old cowboy, who sought her
out because she was from "one of the old families." He wanted to tell
her about a side saddle he owned, made by her great grandfather as a wedding
present some 150 years before. She tells of how they mused awhile on the
subject of their ancestors, when suddenly the old man said, "Who are we
and where do we come from?" That's the real question, isn't it? Before
Norris could reply, he smiled and said, "And here we are telling each
other lies." "Stories!" she said, laughing. "Call them
stories!" "Stories!" he nearly shouted back, pounding one hand
on the bar. "That's who we are!"
One
of the things I have discovered and enjoyed the most in my ministry, both in
parishes and as a clinical chaplain, are the variety of stories that people
have shared with me. All these Gospel stories, encounters with God in Christ, and
all the variety of ways that people live and share that story tell me and the
people who’ve lived them and heard them that God is at work in tangible ways in
the lives of ordinary folks every day. I’ve heard these Gospel stories in places
like this and other congregations, in homes, hospitals, soup kitchens, food
banks, and even in jails. Often folks don’t realize that they are telling ‘gospel
stories.’ They might not even claim to follow a faith or feel themselves to be
far away, or even a refugee from the faith of their upbringing. And yet, with
all the complexities, the curveballs, and complications of their lives, they
still share stories of hope, strength, purpose, and power and this shows us
that Gospel stories come in all shapes and sizes.
Gospel
stories are always being written and always unfolding. God is always adding new
chapters of grace that precedes us, dwells with us, and leads us home.
Jesus asked Andrew and the Beloved Disciple "What
are you looking for?" And then he invites them to “Come and see.” The next
thing you know they are telling others that “We have found the Messiah!” In all
the things we do, in all the activity, through all our programming, worship, and
in all the work of keeping a congregation alive, our Gospel stories are at the
heart of it all. It may be that, in the end, the only thing we have to offer is
this invitation, these stories of our encounters with Jesus, from which we draw
hope, strength, and power. At the end of the day, our job is to invite folks to
“come and see” the person of Jesus Christ, and the best way to tell his
story—perhaps the only way—is with our lives.
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Scripture for the Second Sunday after the Epiphany, Year A, January 18, 2026
St. Chad's Episcopal Church, Tampa, Florida
Learn more about the Diocese of Southwest Florida here
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