A New Story

Last weekend, I was on a prayer retreat, and one of the speakers was describing the spiritual

journey that people make over the course of their lives and how one season of your life

can look so different from another.

And I was reminded of a famous study that explored some of these realities.

It's known as the Grant Study.

In the late 1930s, about 270 or so undergraduates at Harvard were selected to be part of this

massive longitudinal study.

And the ones selected were judged to be among the most well-adjusted, the most likely to

succeed, and they agreed to be poked and prodded and interviewed every single year for the

rest of their lives.

Massive longitudinal study.

And even though their identities were kept secret in recent years, it's come out that

two of those participants in that Harvard study from the late 30s, one went on to be president,

John F.

Kennedy, and the other ended up being the editor of the Washington Post during the Watergate

era, Ben Bradley.

Found out those were two of the study participants.

And as you can imagine, this study has been looked at and written up in books and magazines,

most recently in the Atlantic, seeking to understand the insights and the lessons to be learned.

And here's one of the most surprising lessons, at least for the researchers.

The lives of these young men played out in ways that defied predictability.

Those that started life with certain advantages did not necessarily lead to later success.

And conversely, those who started with certain deficits or who experienced certain defeats along

the way did not necessarily end in failure.

Two examples written up from this study.

One man was especially gifted and grew up in Manhattan as the son of a rich doctor and an artistic mother.

While he was in college, the researchers wrote, perhaps more than any other boy who has been in the grand study,

this participant exemplifies the qualities of a superior personality, stability, intelligence, and good judgment.

Yet, by age 31, for no apparent reason, he developed feelings of bitterness towards the world,

dropped out of the study, and died at a young age.

His life was described by those who knew him as wandering and without purpose.

Another young man in the study was raised in a working class family by what the researchers described

as an angry, alcoholic father and an anxious, irritable mother.

Yet, this man went on to become a national leader in the civil rights movement.

He was loved by his co-workers, and by the time he was in his late 40s,

he was ranked by researchers as among the top fifth in the study with regard to psychological health.

He lived into an old age, and he was celebrated in his obituaries as a hero of the civil rights movement.

Where someone started out was no predictor of where they would end up.

Decades later, the primary researcher reflected that if there was one theme that emerged from the study, it was this.

The course of these people's lives had little to do with how much or how little trouble they encountered,

but how they responded to that trouble.

The study's author writes that this central insight is best captured in the story of a father

who on Christmas Eve puts into one son's stocking an expensive gold watch

and into another son's stocking a pile of horse manure.

The next morning, the first boy comes to his father and says,

Dad, I just don't know what I'll do with this watch.

It's so fragile.

It could break.

The other boy runs to him and says,

Daddy, Daddy, Santa left me a pony.

If only I can just find it.

What is it that causes one person to receive a gold watch

and to respond with fear and caution?

And another to receive something that nobody wants

and yet interpret it in the most positive and constructive of ways.

Psychologists have studied the factors behind the different ways people respond to trouble

and difficulties in life.

And in recent years, they've determined that one of the key factors

is behind how we respond are the stories that we have been told.

The stories that we absorb from the broader culture

and the stories that we tell ourselves to build our identities

and to give us a sense of who we are.

To give just one example, a team at Emory University

studied emotional well-being in children

and they discovered that one of the biggest predictors of emotional health in a child

was the family story they heard growing up.

The researchers noted that all families have a narrative

and they tend to take one of three basic shapes.

The first shape is the ascending family narrative.

We came from nothing.

We worked hard.

We made it big.

And now, Junior, it's your turn.

Another is the descending narrative.

We used to have it all, but then we lost everything.

Life isn't fair and whatever you try probably isn't going to work.

The most helpful narrative, they said, is a third one,

which they called the oscillating family narrative.

That narrative said we've had ups and downs in our family.

We've built a family business.

Your grandfather was a pillar of the community.

Your mother was on the board of the hospital.

But we also had setbacks.

You had an uncle who was once arrested.

You had a house burned down.

Your father lost a job.

But no matter what happened, we persevered and we stuck together.

What are the stories that have shaped your identity,

that have shaped my identity?

We get them from our families, of course.

We also get them from school, from college, from friends, from TikTok.

One way of thinking about this is by asking,

when things are hard, when trouble comes,

what's the story that helps you make sense of it?

In our passage this morning, in our gospel reading from Luke 24,

a group of friends is asking that very question.

Luke 24 is a chapter about disciples trying to make sense of trauma.

Earlier in the chapter, we encounter two disciples

walking along the road to Emmaus and they are distraught.

The person that they loved and followed,

who they thought was going to change everything,

has been crucified and they feel hopeless.

And now in this morning's reading,

another group of disciples have gathered

and they are also trying to make sense of loss

and to process the trauma of Christ's crucifixion.

And in the midst of this gathering,

Jesus suddenly appears.

Verse 37 says,

they are shocked and scared

because they are suddenly confronted

by something that they didn't have a narrative for.

That didn't fit into any of the stories

about how they interpreted reality.

The person that they had watched be executed

and buried in a tomb

is now standing in front of them.

This raw data was important for the disciples

and I think it remains important for us.

Just as the disciples took on board

the reality of Jesus standing before him,

we also will rely on the fact

that at some point in our lives,

we've had an encounter with Jesus.

We've become convinced that Jesus is real,

that he's alive,

and that there is no better teacher,

no safer person.

Or perhaps we haven't yet

had an encounter with Jesus,

but we're moving in that direction.

We're becoming curious about Jesus.

And like the disciples in the room,

we find ourselves becoming open to the fact

that the resurrected Christ might be right here.

The same person who showed the wounds

to his disciples,

who ate some food to prove

that he wasn't just some figment of an imagination

or disembodied spirit

is present and available to us right now.

But notice in the passage,

Jesus does more than just give them himself.

He also gives them a new story

to make sense of their lives.

Verse 45 says that Jesus opened their minds

to reinterpret everything that happened in their past,

to reconsider their experience of loss

and disappointment

through the lens of a different story.

And the new story,

Jesus tells his disoriented disciples

in verse 46 is this.

That the Christ should suffer

and on the third day rise from the dead

and that repentance for the forgiveness of sins

should be proclaimed in his name

to all the nations starting in Jerusalem.

The new story that Jesus gives them,

in other words,

is a story that makes sense of loss

and disappointment and hopelessness.

It's a story of three things.

Cross,

resurrection,

and mission.

Up until this point,

the disciples don't have this as their story.

As Jews,

what they have at this point

is a really confusing family story.

A story of being called by God

to be a light to the nations

and yet failing to live up to that

and worshiping the gods of these other nations instead.

It's a story marked by moments of triumph

with military victories under King David

and fame and riches under King Solomon.

And yet it eventually leads to exile in Babylon.

It's a story of greatness never fully realized,

of hope continuously disappointed.

And theirs is a story that many of us can identify with.

Anyone who has experienced some longings for greatness

not fully realized

or had some hopes disappointed.

But Jesus gives a new story

by which to interpret all of those losses,

cross,

resurrection,

and mission.

The first part of the story is the cross.

Our instinct is to keep the cross

at several degrees

of remove

remove

from us

for it

not to become part of our story.

The cross might be

part of Jesus'

story

and therefore

it's maybe part of my story

in a theological sense

but not in an experiential sense.

Or the cross

might be

part of

say

the martyr's

story.

Someone who suffers

for sharing the gospel

in some

hostile territory.

Or the cross

might be part of

a monk's

story.

A particularly

holy person

dedicated to prayer

and renunciation

of worldly things.

But when Jesus says

the cross

is to become

the interpretive grid

for my story,

for our story,

for everyday

real life,

what does he mean?

A few months ago

I was talking

with a Trappist

monk

who I meet with

on occasion

for spiritual

direction.

We were discussing

humility

as the path

towards

God.

And I commented

on the clear

route

to humility

that he had

as a result

of his monastic

vows.

But when I said

that

he

smiled.

And his

response to me

was to say

that he thought

that his

path to humility

was not

nearly so

strenuous

as those

of us

who are called

to live

in the secular

world.

He said

think about

what humility

a parent learns

when their child

does not obey

them in the way

that they hoped.

or when a

colleague

very subtly

makes you look

bad in front

of your boss.

Or when a

career doesn't

advance

in the way

that you

expected.

Or when

your spouse

doesn't notice

a good deed.

He said

for the person

living in the

world

there are

small experiences

of the cross

of suffering

and sacrifice

that can bring

about humility

every single

day.

And if we

can notice

those moments

and receive

them in that

way

those daily

realities

can form

us into

Christ

just as much

as anything

I do here

in the

monastery.

And so

we might

ask

what

what are

those

points

of

suffering

or

sacrifice

in my

own

life

right

now

even the

very

smallest

things

that I

might

interpret

through the

lens of

the cross.

It doesn't

mean that

I stop

praying for

God to

take those

troubles

to take

that suffering

away because

God is never

the author

of evil.

people.

But Jesus'

prayer in the

garden of

Gethsemane

shows us what

this looks like.

He prays for the

cross to be

taken from him

even as he also

places his life in

the hands of his

father.

And so we begin to

interpret any

troubles that we

experience even the

smallest things

through the lens of

the cross.

a friend in

school talking

behind our

back.

A health

issue that's

not going

away.

A family

situation that's

causing sleepless

nights.

And like

Jesus we will

pray Father

please take

this away.

But we will

also pray

Father so long

as this continues

would you shape

me by it?

Would you

form me into

greater

conformity to

yourself through

this experience?

And as we do

that we will see

that the other

two parts of the

story that Jesus

gave his disciples

play out in our

lives as well.

Resurrection and

mission.

As we learn to

enter into

experiences of the

cross in our

lives we will

also experience

resurrection.

Even though

resurrection may

come in different

ways.

In some cases we

may experience a

resurrection of new

opportunities.

A surprising

relationship that

becomes possible

after the pain of

an old one

ending.

A career path that

only opens up after

other doors close

first.

first.

But other times we

may experience a

resurrection that

is more subtle but

also more profound.

Because in the losses

we suffer we may

experience that our

hearts are resurrected.

That our life with

God is resurrected.

we start to become

more of the person

that God intended us

to be.

We begin to

experience the kind

of life that

becomes possible

when through the

pain of loss our

old self begins

to die.

And this leads to

the final part of

the story.

Mission.

As we begin to

experience troubles

and trials through

the lens of the

cross and as we

also begin to

experience resurrections

in our lives.

Big and small we

will find ourselves

along with the

disciples with a

message to bring to

others.

But that message

will never be

simply some

didactic facts that

we drop into the

laps of others.

Rather we will

bring our own

experiences of the

resurrected Christ.

Our own

experiences of

healing and

transformation as a

loving and natural

overflow into the

lives of those

around us and we

will find ourselves

leading lives of

mission.

We all have

stories by which we

make sense of our

lives.

stories.

The good news is

that you and I

are not bound

to the stories we

have now.

You are not

bound to any

story that has been

imposed upon you

or that you have

absorbed from

others.

Jesus offers you and

me a new story.

The story of cross

and resurrection

and mission.

And it is a story

for where we live

our lives right

now.

Amen.

Amen.

You.

Thank you.