Whose Story Is it Anyway?
By Ken Curtis

A Commentary on the Sabbath School Lesson for March 19–25, 2005, "The Cross and the Great Controversy"

Listening well is not easy. It’s not that we’re incapable or wouldn’t like to so much as the fact that we live in a culture that requires us to sift selectively through huge amounts of information that sometimes get in the way. Indeed, it would be difficult to survive without the ability—both consciously and unconsciously—to tune out some things and focus on others. The pace at which we live and the pressures that often drive us too often transform attentive listening into acts of relational triage. We listen for the information that speaks most directly to our current situation and filter out the rest.

One of the resulting hazards is that we may mistake our current situation for the bigger picture of which it is a part. We assume that our story is the story, and, retracing our steps from Copernicus back to Ptolemy, reconstruct a universe in which everything revolves around us. Of course, in some ways this is unavoidable because we simply can’t avoid the fact that we view things from a perspective and location that shapes what we see and hear. But when we are not aware that we do this we may miss what we most need to hear.

When we listen attentively to God’s story something powerful emerges. Central to Adventist thought is the assertion that the Great Controversy, in which we are deeply immersed, is not so much about us as it is about God. Moreover, we are not the only ones effected by the outcome; the entire universe is, as well. In fact, the issue around which everything else turns is not the behavior of created beings (although that is quite significant), but the character of God.

Listening carefully, we discover that the issue first raised by Lucifer in heaven and Eden was whether or not we should trust God. Issues of trust cannot be resolved by argument or fiat, but only by demonstration and experience. Thus, God began the process of unfolding his story through interactions with individuals, families, and kingdoms in the Old Testament, and actually took on human form in the New Testament to live among us.

Nowhere does the meaning of these story lines come into clearer focus than at the cross. There they stand in sharp, bold contrast, as they converge into one moment. There we see demonstrated in the actions of those seeking power and control the full extent to which evil was willing to go to accomplish its ends as the giver of life was nailed to a cross and left to die. At the cross, we also see the full extent to which God was willing to go as Jesus, who had willingly laid aside privilege, power, and position to take on the role of a servant, extended grace to those who harmed him and allowed the worst that sin had caused to fall upon himself.

While this happened, the veil in the temple—both figuratively and literally—was torn aside, and as a result we see God’s character and kingdom revealed for what they truly are. As we stand with our eyes focused upon that scene it becomes clear that this story is primarily about God, not about us.

Yet precisely as we discover that it is God’s story, the true significance of our own story becomes apparent, for it reveals that God also takes our stories very seriously. We see that God made the experience of love possible by granting us the dignity of free choice. When that gift was exercised in a way that separated us from him, he continued to honor its integrity by allowing the worst of its consequences to fall upon himself. As a result, we can again be part of a new creation in which sin will no longer have a part.

(Choices without outcomes are only illusions. For choices to have integrity, they need outcomes, thus, Jesus experienced the outcome in our place, not to appease the wrath of an offended Deity, but to affirm the reality and protect the integrity of the gift of free choice that he has given us. This was a costly gift indeed!)

Demonstration of God’s grace and love lies at the heart of his story; this is where the controversy’s resolution is found. Our own stories are never safer than when absorbed into God’s larger story.

Although the cross has forever settled the core issues of the Great Controversy, the full impact of related issues on our own fallen world remain to be seen. We have the honor of casting our vote with our lives and being a part of the chorus that proclaims the worthiness of the Lamb as the final scenes of the controversy come to a close.

How will we respond? How will the world? What is it like to tell his story and live in response to it with integrity? That is what we are called to embrace and what the onlooking universe will see.

In joyful anticipation of what lies ahead, "The Spirit and the bride say, ’Come!’ And let those who hear say, ’Come!’ Let those who are thirsty come; and let all who wish take the free gift of the water of life.…He who testifies to these things says, ’Yes, I am coming soon.’" (Rev. 22:17, 20 TNIV)

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

Questions

1. How is spirituality shaped differently depending on whether my primary focus is upon my story or on God’s story?

2. What kinds of issues will be more fully understood and/or appreciated when all things are made new?

3. How does this understanding help me to deal with suffering—those parts of my story that are difficult to understand? What aspects of my own story make it difficult for me to listen well to God’s story?

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