Tell Me a Better Story

Recently, I had to find a new cardiologist. My former cardiologist retired and I had to find a new doctor. After talking with a few friends in the medical field, we selected the one whose name was on everyone’s list. After a few weeks, I had my first visit with my new doctor. He ran a series of blood tests and scans and then made his diagnosis.

My cholesterol was too high and I needed to lose thirty pounds.

When I heard his report, I turned to my wife and said we needed to find a new doctor.

He then went through a series of suggestions to help me lose weight and get all of my numbers where he wanted them. Stop eating carbohydrates, ease up on red meat and eat more vegetables – and I should think of this as a lifestyle change, not a diet. He wanted me to change the way I thought about food and how it impacted my life.

Here’s the funny part. He didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know. I knew I needed to lose weight. My pants told me that every time I got dressed. I knew I needed to improve my diet. I knew my family history (my father had his first heart attack when he was 55). I knew I should eat more fruits and vegetables. I had all the information I needed to make a good and healthy decision.

We all know what I did. I took all of the information the doctor gave me and stacked it on the kitchen table and promised myself I would look at it later. I never did, but I really intended to. Of course, the road to a famous place is paved with good intentions.

Seeing the stack of papers and pamphlets on the table, my wife asked me what I thought of the new doctor and did I know what I was going to do with all of the information he had given to me.

Sure, I said. I’m going to lose five pounds and then gain it back by celebrating I had lost five pounds. I’ll lose thirty pounds – it’ll just be the same five pounds six times.

Then, my wife got that look. If you’re married, you know the look. My mind was about to change, I just didn’t know how. She looked at me and said, “You have a granddaughter and one day she’s going to get married. She’s going to want you at her wedding.”

That one hit me – and hit me hard. In that moment, I made some decisions and lifestyle changes the doctor would be proud of. I decided to do anything and everything in my power to be part of my granddaughter’s wedding. I would drop my calories. I would work out. I would watch my numbers.

But I wouldn’t do it for the doctor. I wouldn’t do it for myself. I would, however, do this and anything else I needed to do for my granddaughter. I wanted to be part of her day. I wanted to be part of her story.

People don’t change with more or better information. Most of us know what we need to do. We just never do it. I know Oreos are bad for me. I don’t need anyone to explain how harmful the ingredients are. I know all of that. I know what happens when my cholesterol is too high and turns into plaque that clogs the vessels around the heart. I was in the room when the surgeon explained to my father how his diet and lifestyle had damaged his heart. Yet, with all of that knowledge, I didn’t change. I knew the facts. What I needed was a reason.

Jeannie, my wife, told me a different story. She didn’t talk about cholesterol and lipids. She didn’t mention my good or bad cholesterol. She didn’t talk to me about blood sugar or carbohydrates. She didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know.

She told me a better story.

She took me to the future. She sat me down next to her in a church as we watched my beautiful granddaughter be walked down the aisle by our son and then asked me, “Do you want to be there?” Yes. I want to be there. With everything I am, I want to be there. Fine, my wife said, here are the decisions you have to make in order to be there. She called me to start living now in the story we wanted to be part of our future.

Since my retirement, I’ve listened to a lot of preachers. The sermons are filled with facts – historical, theological and moral truths that are laid out like an attorney making a case before a jury. A leads to B which means we must believe C.

But better information doesn’t change people’s lives. Better stories do.

And there’s no better story than the gospel. Jesus comes and tells us the Kingdom of God is at hand, the future of God is now here. We’re invited to be part of it. Come as you are. There’s no time to get ready. There’s no time to make up for all we’ve done wrong. Jesus has already done that for us. The future of God has now swamped our present and past. Jesus is telling a new story where sinners become saints and orphans find homes. He tells of a kingdom where the broken aren’t just repaired, but restored. New songs of joy are sung by those who’ve only known the blues.

Our world is awash in data. We have plenty of information.

What we need is a new story. Jesus has the best story that has ever been told.

This essay was first posted in Scot McKnight’s newsletter.