There is something indescribably delicious about a hot muggy summer afternoon that slowly transitions when a thunderstorm cools off the day. Maples leaves, bigger than oak and birch leaves, are the first to catch the approaching zephyr. Glancing up one notices a slight graying of the afternoon’s cumulous clouds. Shapes and forms multiply overhead and deepen in color as far away sounds of thunder announce intentions.
When my Dad and I would hear the first rumblings of an approaching downpour he would tell me angels were rearranging the furniture in heaven. I liked it when he told me fun stories. I knew better but it was fun to hear. My father was full of strange and wonderful tales about our ancestors. He often talked about his grandmother who packed a pearl-handled six-shooter on her hip. I knew it wasn’t true but I would beg him for more and he was
good to deliver.
Stories give substance to our ideas, beliefs and values. Stories help us fit into the world about us. Instead of telling people how to live and what to do it is better to tell them a good story and let them figure out the meaning. The lessons stick because they were generated in the minds of the listeners. Jesus knew that and was a great storyteller. Some of them were true. Some of them were made up. The point was not the veracity of the tale but the meaning that would permanently change the life of the hearer. Jesus loved metaphors and effectively used them as when he warned his disciples of the leaven of the Pharisees
Written by Roger Bothwell on July 10, 2008
Spring of Life, 151 Old Farm Rd., Leominster, MA 01453.