If you’ve talked to me in the past month, I’ve probably asked you if you’ve ever seen the TV show “24.” It’s been on for five years now, and I’m just getting around to watching the seasons in order on DVD. Both Shiree and I were very impressed with the show’s intensity and quality. The producers don’t hesitate to give the audience unexpected twists and turns, even if they hurt along the way. Cliffhangers become the norm. We are routing for the main character, Jack Bauer, to find the bomb, the assassin, or accomplish whatever impossibly tough assignment he’s been given. We continually find the perfect President in the man David Palmer, the United State’s first black President and a man who firmly holds to his principles.
But let’s put the details aside and talk about the nature of narrative truth. As human beings––made for relationship, made to belong––we are only caught up in the stories that take our breath away, excite us, bring us to the brink of danger and then rescue us at the last minute. No one belongs to a fact, we belong to a story, a tale, an adventure.
Perhaps it could be said that men have died for what they believed to be absolute or propositional truth, but those who did were perhaps blind to something greater happening––the story to which they belonged. The apostles died because they witnessed and experienced the life of Jesus (story). The early church martyrs died because they experienced the life-changing power of Jesus (story). People around the world are feeding the poor, helping those with AIDS, and working toward social justices for those in need (story). This story, this adventure, is the gospel. It takes us from the depths or our being and throws us into life.
Ask Jack Bauer. He lives for the adventure, the story he can be caught up in. Ask the millions of people who are glued to their TV sets when the show is on. Why are they there? It’s certainly not because of the “plain fact” that Jack Bauer is a good federal agent. It’s because the story he leads is worth being caught up into.
