The Power of Story

A hotel executive tells this story:

'The hotel I manage is located near a renowned hospital. Recently, we noticed that a man and a boy were visiting regularly and surmised that they were father and son, and that the son was undergoing treatment at the hospital. One evening, the father sent the boy up to bed and called over the head waiter. "My son is about to start chemotherapy tomorrow," he said. "He's really upset at the prospect of his hair falling out, so he's decided to shave it all off tonight. I'm going to do the same to support my son. When you see us tomorrow morning, please don't react."

'The head waiter was touched by the story and briefed his colleagues. The next morning, father and son came down with bald heads, feeling rather nervous. But, as they went in to breakfast, they gradually realised they weren't the only ones who looked a bit different that day. No fewer than ten members of staff had shaved their heads out of solidarity with the boy.'

'That,' she concluded, 'is how my staff live the corporate value, "Show you care."' (As reported by Hashi Syedain in People Management magazine.)

It's no surprise that business is beginning to exploit so movingly 'the power of story' for its capital gain. It's only natural, surely: we make sense of life by sharing stories with each other, so why shouldn't we make sense of our work in the same way? It seems there is life after 'death-by-PowerPoint', after all.

And what of our faith? We talk much, in Christian circles, of 'the power of story', as custodians of the Greatest Story Ever Told (GSET). But do we still prefer to leap to the 'moral' of the tale, rather than inhabit the story itself - with its unresolved tensions, suspense and wonder?

It takes courage to reflect upon our own story: where we've come from, the characters who've played their parts, the times when the plot has twisted for good or bad. And it takes creativity to demonstrate how it fits with the GSET - the masterful narrative that imbues our smaller stories with meaning, yet is somehow, mysteriously, shaped by their very unfolding.

Hardest of all, perhaps, is to attend, with grace, to the story of others. Yet surely the power flows most fully between those who are usually denied a voice, and those with ears to hear. Thank you for listening.

Brian Draper (LICC)