by Lawanda Smith

When I first began preaching, some people who had known me for a long time seemed a little surprised. After all, I had been completely dedicated to teaching in the church for years. "So why this career change?" one of my friends questioned. "Are you getting out of education?"

"Absolutely not!" In fact, I was a little surprised by the question. In my mind, I hadn’t made a career change at all. I still loved teaching. But I was also discovering the educational dimensions of preaching. And what I was learning was that pastors can educate through the sermon.

There’s storytelling, for example. It’s one of the most time-honored and effective ways of educating. The Old Testament stories of the Hebrews include descriptions of education intricately woven into family life. Teaching took place in the home, through recitation of the law, to be sure, but also through telling stories of their history. In fact, the Old Testament itself is largely a book of stories.

And according to the New Testament, Jesus was a storyteller. His great truths were embodied in stories. It’s how he taught and how he preached. Storytelling has a rich Christian tradition.

Today, preaching that educates is also preaching that tells stories. For one thing, we pastors preach sermons that tell biblical stories. It’s a way of Christian education that helps people connect with our history, our tradition. And, at the same time, these biblical stories are our own stories as well.

Real-life situations with familiar characters draw people into the sermon, for sharing personal stories helps the pastor connect with the congregation and their stories. Storytelling is also a non-threatening way to encourage people to think about new concepts. And by weaving biblical stories and personal stories into sermons, pastors can help people discover how their stories connect with the larger story of Christianity.

Take these stories, for instance.

Several years ago my parents moved to another town. Now, all my friends know my sense of direction is less than good. I have learned to compensate by looking for signs that point me in the right direction, but if signs aren’t there, I’m lost. So when my parents moved to this new town, I had a challenge. The best way to get there from where I lived was go to through a town called Hope.

Things went OK on my first trip to their house–for awhile. But eventually I got lost, and I found myself looking for a sign of Hope.

It’s a pretty familiar story, one that’s reflected in Luke 8:26-39. This story is our story. This man in Luke is looking for a sign of hope, and we find ourselves there, too.

Jesus’ first miracle in Gentile territory is to heal a man emotionally troubled, someone who has known nothing but fear. "Legion," he answers when Jesus asks his name. His life is only chaos.

This man’s personal life is frantic--and all of us have been there. We like order, and in the middle of personal chaos, we long for stability. But chaos is also the place of potential, and as strange as it may seem, if things were always stable, if nothing ever changed, we might never reach that potential. But, of course, that’s not the way we see things in the middle of chaos.

So just what is Luke saying in this story of Legion? Just what does he mean when he tells us Jesus healed the man, when he tells us the demons which had tormented this Legion rush into a herd of pigs, when they run down to the sea and drown? What do these things mean?

Maybe--just maybe--they are our signs of hope.

Dr. Lawanda Smith is Instructor of English and Religion at Louisiana State University Alexandria. She resides in Alexandria, Louisiana, where she is a member of Emmanuel Baptist Church. She also preaches regularly at other churches in the area. In her spare time, she enjoys reading, writing, water skiing, and entertaining her cats.