Ministering in weakness: the power of story

In a recent sermon our minister, Rev Duncan Macpherson of Hilton Church Inverness described a recent experience of burnout, and his gratitude to God for rescuing him when he was ‘in a pit, sprachling about in the mud and mire.’

He was preaching on Psalm 40 – a testimony from many centuries ago of God’s rescuing intervention. Using the words of the Psalm, Duncan says that God ‘set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.’

He described the extreme tiredness which crept over him in August 2012, a tiredness which neither holiday nor rest could lift. Unable to sleep, battling constant exhaustion, barely able to walk. It seemed his ministry might be over. ‘Is there a way through this, or am I destined to stay in this pit of exhaustion and tiredness for ever?’

He described the agonised questioning (‘Where is God in this?); the anger he felt at himself and others; the self-reproach.

And he told us how, like the author of the Psalm, he grew aware that God was with him as he slowly journeyed back to health, and realised that the richest treasures are often found in life’s dark places.

To stand up and be as real and vulnerable as Duncan was as he described this painful journey takes both bravery and humility. Duncan shared as he did for two reasons. Firstly, to encourage those of us who are currently struggling in dark places (and which of us is immune from times of darkness?): we are not alone; God is with us in our pain, and therefore, hope remains.

And secondly, to demonstrate that there is unique power in a personal story, honestly shared in spoken or written words or in whatever ways of sharing come naturally to us.  Psalm 40 has blessed and encouraged God’s friends across the centuries. Today our stories bless and encourage those around us. As Henri Nouwen put it ‘we minister above all with our weakness.’

The better we know and understand the true significance of our stories, the more real and therefore powerful our sharing becomes. Gaining this discernment is harder than it seems. We re-shape our personal stories as we get older, to present ourselves in ways we are comfortable with.  But which version of is truest?

And some of us tell, and try to live out of stories which are not genuinely ‘us’. I may model my life on what I believe others expect of me; what I think I ‘ought’ to be; what I assume the false hard-taskmaster image of God I carry in my heart demands of me.

I suspect Duncan’s telling of his story would have been very different before his Psalm 40 experience – he mentioned his lack of awareness of what an over-busy life was doing to him, hinting that he was blind to powerful drives hounding him to self-destruction.

Before I can tell my story authentically I need to hear that story. I discover my identity and my story as I listen to my deepest self. For there, beneath all the storms of guilt and delusion whispers the voice saying ‘This is who you are! This is the path I have for you to follow.’

And once I have heard that voice - I believe it’s the voice of God -  I realise I’m free to choose to be who I am called to be; to choose the story I am called to live. And it’s not easy for some of us to choose – the dark place can become so familiar that the freedom on offer seems risky and scary.

Duncan chose freedom: adopting a less pressured lifestyle; concentrating on things he alone can do, and leaving the rest to others,; drawing inspiration daily from other struggling pilgrims in the Psalms.

It’s important not just to discern and then to share our own stories, but to listen to other people’s stories as we’d like them to listen to ours – non-judgementally;  open and attentive. Some will speak of finding God in the darkness, other of feeling abandoned by God and of abandoning faith in return.

And we listen, and we wait, as a faithful friend listened to and waited with Duncan during his months of darkness, and as Duncan now makes space to journey with others.

All our stories are provisional, and will be fully understood only when we meet the great Storyteller in another place.

Duncan's conclusion had authenticity and power because of what we'd heard earlier. This was not a theoretical statement of belied, but a dsipatch from the front line. 'I can stand here this morning and say 'God is good.' We worship the God who hears our cries, who lifts us up, who gives us a new song to sing. 

(Christian Viewpoint column from the Highland News dated 8th July 2015)