Plutarch reports that Alexander the Great slept with a copy of Homer’s Iliad and a dagger under his pillow. Whether this is historically accurate or not—and I have no good reason to doubt it—it illustrates an important feature of “great men.” They love learning, they pursue strength, and they always keep the instruments of virtue and success close at hand. Alexander was, undoubtedly, a “great man” by the world’s measure, though he was not “great” according to the standards of the kingdom of God. We might say he was a “son of this world” who proved shrewder than many of the “sons of light” (cf. Luke 16:1-13). Alexander understood his place in the world by continually meditating upon a story that communicated the worldview, values, and goals by which he sought to live his life.
Human beings learn who and what we are, why we’re here, and what we’re supposed to do through stories. It’s always been this way. Virtually every human civilization has communicated worldview, values, and goals by means of story. They may have been oral traditions, written legends, or epic poetry, but the story encodes what members of the society are supposed to know, believe, and practice.
The Scriptures characterize our lives as a “story” God wrote in a book before the first day began (Ps. 139:16). The Church gathers to worship on the Lord’s Day, in part, to hear again, share, and celebrate the stories of creation and redemption. The Nicene Creed is the recitation of a story, the story of the true hero, the Christ, who came into the world to slay the Dragon, save his Bride, and establish a kingdom which will last forever. The Table is a ritual commemoration of the story, a reenactment of the Last Supper, a foreshadowing of the Marriage Supper of the Lamb, and a place where God’s family gathers to laugh and sing, to remember and anticipate, the glorious consummation of the story God wrote before the first day.
Stories are important in the Christian life, first and foremost the Scriptures themselves, but also the stories (both historical and mythological) that help us understand our place and purpose and part in this world. I have often suggested The Pilgrim’s Progress is the “Christian Iliad/Odyssey” that ought to lie under our pillow at night. It is the Church’s myth that we ought to read again and again throughout our lives. I read it once every year, but Spurgeon reportedly read it more than 100 times. I don’t expect I’ll even come close to that number. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings and Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia and The Ransom Trilogy are also helpful tales which serve a similar purpose in communicating worldview and a righteous perspective. The Iliad and The Odyssey are, rightly, regarded as masterpieces, and their narratives may be profitably sanctified and re-purposed for use in the Christian’s battlefield tour, even if there is a good bit of transformation that must occur in the adaptation. Many other titles could also be named that may serve a similar purpose in our sanctification and journey in grace.
Stories are not merely meant to be read; they are to be lived. We are characters in the tale which God has written, and we find our place in it by remembering, reciting, and ritually engaging narratives of redemption that have been left to us by our forefathers. Every Lord’s Day is like a visit to the House of the Interpreter, where our hearts are refreshed, our minds instructed, and our hands and feet strengthened for the journey that lies before us. God’s children gather in the sanctuary and lift our hands to our Father asking him, “Tell us the story again.”
