I've been telling a lot of stories this week.
Actually, I tell a lot of stories every week: stories about how I learned something, stories about where God's shown up, stories and stories and stories. I tell stories.
And I listen, man do I ever. I listen to stories, loads of them. My conversation lilt just begs people to jump in and tell a story. I can't make people stop.
This weekend was so full of stories. We were getting to know Kevin and Kristy, the folks who are coming to W&L to serve with InterVarsity next year. I tried to tell them as many stories about our community as I could: about how GCF was formed, about where God's taken us over the years, about what God's been doing recently and about why I don't do pre-marital counseling in Java 23 anymore.
Wes was right on the money this week when he said that the Biblical story could accurately be handed down. Stories that are precious to us get passed on and they get passed on intact.
The thought that any of the early Christians would get the main points of the Jesus story wrong on accident is a strange thought. Anyone who was there can tell the main gist of the GCF-end-of-year-bonfire-from-last-year story and that's just a bonfire.
The telephone game ends up scrambling stories for the following reasons:
- Whispers are hard to hear
- No repeats
- We don't really care about what's being passed on
None of that is true of the story about Jesus. Because we care about him, we repeat his story over and over and over again. And we don't whisper, at least, not often.
I think the case for accidental transmission error is a thin one. Maybe something else happened, but me-thinks there be no accident, here.