The Power of Story I
I titled this “The Power of Story I” because I am assuming I will write about the power of story again. When I was a teacher, my former boss, Liz, a fabulous woman and mentor, always spoke of the power of story. I was recently reflecting on this while saying my favorite Catholic prayer, the Rosary. Put most simply, the Rosary is five sets of ten Hail Marys separated by one Our Father. It can just be repeating the prayers, but there is a way of making it a deeper experience. There are mysteries associated with each set of ten Hail Marys, what you are supposed to contemplate while praying. The mysteries are as follows: joyful, sorrowful, glorious, and luminous. Each mystery focuses on one part of Jesus’ life.
I read a book once about the mysteries that taught me how to insert myself into the stories, imagining myself as different people within the life of Jesus, creating and repeating mantras that match each mystery. For example, for the nativity, the story of Jesus’ birth, I repeat to myself, If you build it, it will come, because I think of how everything went wrong for Mary and Joseph that night Jesus was born, but they found the right place, under a star, and the shepherds and wise men found them, the right people paid homage. I often envision this scene and repeat this mantra when I am feeling stressed. I remind myself that the right people will show up, that there is a star over my head I cannot see. I am being guided, I just need to be open to the signs and voices of those I encounter. I must embrace the mystery of life’s pull on me.
I often say that you don’t even have to believe in the stories of the mysteries to learn powerful lessons from this practice. By playing around with the stories during prayer, I find a method of thinking outside of my own boxes, I find empathy and compassion in the stories unfolding within and outside of my own life. Long ago, a student worker at one of my jobs said that the story of Jesus is the greatest story ever told. I don’t know if this is true, but it is certainly a story that I have found rich in its ability to teach and enlighten my own life.
When my brother and sister died, their bodies were laid out in their coffins with rosary beads strung through their fingers. In my brother’s case, I worried that was a hypocrisy, because I’m not sure if he said the Rosary very often or at all. Then, a few years later, a priest told us in his homily that the rosary beads are there in the coffin because they represent the dead person’s life: the joyful, sorrowful, glorious, and luminous moments that encompass life.
I love the circular journey of the Rosary, how it represents the journey of life every single one of us experiences, in one way or another. It is a hopeful journey, each time I take it. By praying the Rosary and contemplating the stories of the mysteries constantly interacting with my own story, the story of the world around me, I honor the power of story, the concept that perceptions can evolve and change if I am being creative. I accept that in the human story, like Jesus’ story, there will always be sorrow, even great tragedy, injustice, but there will be joy, and even glory, too. I must trust in the circle of the Rosary.
