Remembering My First Time
(This is part of the sermon I will be preaching tomorrow, inspired by a memory of Luke 15.1-7)
I suppose most of us, if we look back over the years, can think of a number of those excruciating memory moments. You know the ones: where you wish, oh, how you wish you could have that moment over again and have it happen differently; or you wish the you that you were had somehow dissolved into the floor instead of making such a mess-up of the situation.
One of the great things about life, of course, is that as you get older those moments become fewer. You get to the point of surviving one of those embarrassing episodes, and you think Well, blow it: I am who I am, and I did it the way I did it, and if they don't like it, it's their own sorry lookout.
So my example of an excruciating moment is from over 30 years ago. The first Bible story I told to a group of children. And it was the story of the Lost Sheep. Now picture this. I'd been a Christian for about six months. I'd just finished university, not started work yet. And I'd agreed to join the team for a CSSM beach mission in Somerset (it's not in Somerset any longer - this was over 30 years ago, remember - it's now in a place called Avon). And the team leader had asked me to go into a children's Bible class and tell them the story of the Lost Sheep. I hadn't got a clue. I didn't yet know I was, or was going to be, a storyteller. (This is one of those examples of how God gets you doing the things you're going to do long before you know how, or even that, you're going to be doing them. That's happened quite a lot in my life.) I had had so little training as to amount to nothing. God bless Scripture Union, they really tried (I think) but the only memory I have of that training day Somewhere in the East End of London, was the moment they got all the young men up the front to practise leading choruses, and said OK, now conduct and lead us in singing By blue Galilee. Since I'd never heard this before, never sung it, didn't sing - this was not a good performance. And then being told That was pretty useless - even if it was addressed to all of us - was neither encouraging, nor much use in helping us know how to improve, nor good pedagogy in any sense. Well, every experience is a learning experience ...
Also, it was over 10 years since I'd been to Sunday School, so even my limited experience of how people spoke to children about God was, well, a bit out of date. More 1950s than 1970s.
These are my reasons, or excuses, for the fact that my first telling of a Bible story to children, the story of the Lost Sheep, was not something you'd write home about. I was very nervous, (for I knew that small children eat nervous adults for their elevenses) and the story was very short, dull, unimaginative and uncreative, and I'm not very sure what the point was (if it had one). When I asked the lady in charge afterwards how was it? she answered, I can see that you put a lot of prayer into it. At that moment I knew two things with great clarity. One was, that she was a very dear saint. The other was, that story must have been pretty bad.
Now from all this, you will realise why I was destined to be a storyteller; and why it is that the parable of the Lost Sheep is so peculiarly important to me ...
(I'm then planning to use Sarah's brilliant Parable of the Ninety-Nine. Thanks, Sarah!)
I suppose most of us, if we look back over the years, can think of a number of those excruciating memory moments. You know the ones: where you wish, oh, how you wish you could have that moment over again and have it happen differently; or you wish the you that you were had somehow dissolved into the floor instead of making such a mess-up of the situation.
One of the great things about life, of course, is that as you get older those moments become fewer. You get to the point of surviving one of those embarrassing episodes, and you think Well, blow it: I am who I am, and I did it the way I did it, and if they don't like it, it's their own sorry lookout.
So my example of an excruciating moment is from over 30 years ago. The first Bible story I told to a group of children. And it was the story of the Lost Sheep. Now picture this. I'd been a Christian for about six months. I'd just finished university, not started work yet. And I'd agreed to join the team for a CSSM beach mission in Somerset (it's not in Somerset any longer - this was over 30 years ago, remember - it's now in a place called Avon). And the team leader had asked me to go into a children's Bible class and tell them the story of the Lost Sheep. I hadn't got a clue. I didn't yet know I was, or was going to be, a storyteller. (This is one of those examples of how God gets you doing the things you're going to do long before you know how, or even that, you're going to be doing them. That's happened quite a lot in my life.) I had had so little training as to amount to nothing. God bless Scripture Union, they really tried (I think) but the only memory I have of that training day Somewhere in the East End of London, was the moment they got all the young men up the front to practise leading choruses, and said OK, now conduct and lead us in singing By blue Galilee. Since I'd never heard this before, never sung it, didn't sing - this was not a good performance. And then being told That was pretty useless - even if it was addressed to all of us - was neither encouraging, nor much use in helping us know how to improve, nor good pedagogy in any sense. Well, every experience is a learning experience ...
Also, it was over 10 years since I'd been to Sunday School, so even my limited experience of how people spoke to children about God was, well, a bit out of date. More 1950s than 1970s.
These are my reasons, or excuses, for the fact that my first telling of a Bible story to children, the story of the Lost Sheep, was not something you'd write home about. I was very nervous, (for I knew that small children eat nervous adults for their elevenses) and the story was very short, dull, unimaginative and uncreative, and I'm not very sure what the point was (if it had one). When I asked the lady in charge afterwards how was it? she answered, I can see that you put a lot of prayer into it. At that moment I knew two things with great clarity. One was, that she was a very dear saint. The other was, that story must have been pretty bad.
Now from all this, you will realise why I was destined to be a storyteller; and why it is that the parable of the Lost Sheep is so peculiarly important to me ...
(I'm then planning to use Sarah's brilliant Parable of the Ninety-Nine. Thanks, Sarah!)
posted by Tony at 9/11/2004 01:02:00 pm
1 Comments:
Every time I read a post of yours I find myself with a big smile, smiling at my computer. I love the way you write and tell a story. I love your word choice. I plan to drag my partner up here and make her look at your blog because I like it so very much. What a great story and sermon!
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