The Stories We Tell Our Children
All families tell stories. But did you know that the stories we tell shape our children and even their children? (Psalm 78:1-32)
Your browser doesn't support HTML5 audio
The Stories We Tell
Transcript
What stories does your family tell?
Your journey from Laos?
Your grandparents living in their hometown?
Your parent’s glory days?
The stories we tell shape our children, our nieces & nephews.
For example, at Thanksgiving, my Norwegian family on Mom’s side would eat lefsa. It’s like a potato tortilla. And every Thanksgiving, my grandpa would tell the story of how he, as a child, would eat the lefse right off the griddle. And his mom, my great-grandmother, would slap his hand and say, “Geesh! At least put some butter and sugar on it.”
That was the origin story of why our family ate lefsa with butter and sugar. Then I moved to Minnesota, the land of my people, only to discover that everybody eats it with butter and sugar. Come on, Grandpa! Nonetheless, that story I heard every year and the lefsa we ate together played a huge part in why I love it to this day.
On the other hand, my Dad’s side had some significant family trauma in their history. And nobody talked about it. I heard no stories about that side of the family. So, I didn’t grow up developing the same love or affection for my paternal relatives.
The stories we hear play a huge role in our development as children. They shape us in powerful ways.
God knows that. That’s why he commands the Israelites to tell the stories.
That’s what we see in Psalm 78. The first three verses command the Israelites to tell the stories of old to their children, “things we have heard and known, things our ancestors have told us” (v3).
Most families do this—tell stories of the past. Maybe just one generation, maybe two. Sometimes it’s the same story that your grandparents tell, and you listen politely even though you’ve heard it dozens of times. Other times, it’s a new story that you’ve never heard before.
Most families tell stories. But that’s enough. It matters what stories you tell.
The next verse says, “we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD, his power, and the wonders he has done” (v4). What stories do you tell? Stories of God—his power, his work, his wonders.
Why do we tell stories about God’s faithfulness? The next two verses give five answers:
So that your children would know them.
So that your grandchildren would know them.
So that they would trust God.
So that they wouldn’t forget God’s deeds.
So that they would keep his commands.
There’s one more reason, but this one’s different. This one sets up a contrast between the stories of God’s faithfulness and another set of stories.
6. So that the Israelite children “would not be like their ancestors—a stubborn and rebellious generation, whose hearts were not loyal to God, whose spirits were not faithful to him.”
And then, this psalm spends 64 verses telling stories of God’s faithfulness and Israel's unfaithfulness.
What the stories tell about God are amazing: he did miracles, he rescued, he gave food and water, he protected, he defeated enemies. Incredible!
And what the stories told about God’s people are very critical: they turned their back, they disobeyed, they lied, they ignored God, they continued to sin, they spoke against God, they did not believe.
How different are these sets of stories from the ones we typically hear in our families? We usually hear stories that make the family look good, where our parents or grandparents are the story's heroes—they save, protect, and provide.
Some of you come from families where you would never hear stories that make the family look bad. They might lose face. In fact, some are so bad that they become shameful family secrets, buried until something reveals them.
It matters what stories you hear. Why? The stories you hear shape the things you love.
Think about it.
Why do I remember our family camping trips so fondly? Because we told such fun stories from them.
Why do I affectionately remember an old gas station in Flandreau, South Dakota? Because that’s where my grandparents first met.
Why do I love lefse so much? Because butter and sugar are delicious.
The stories you hear shape the things you love.
God knows that. That’s why he commands parents to tell their children great stories about him, not the family.
When we tell our children stories of God’s goodness, his power, his faithfulness, they learn to fall in love with him. When we tell them stories of our family’s success, generosity, courage, they fall in love with the family.
The stories you tell your children shape the things they will love.
God commands you to tell your children stories of God’s faithfulness and your family’s unfaithfulness, stories where he is the hero, not the family.
I think we often flip that. We tell stories that make our families look good and God look bad.
Have you reduced God to “Don’t do this, don’t do that?”
Do you weaponize spirituality?
Do you use religious guilt or shame?
At the same time, do you elevate the family and emphasize things like commitment, honor, and saving face? In your stories, are family members the heroes and other people the villains?
The stories we tell shape the things we love.
Do your family stories make God look good? Do your kids know of your brokenness and selfishness but have heard stories of how God is faithful even when you aren’t?
If they hear enough stories where God is the hero, the rescuer, the faithful one, even when you’re not faithful, guess what’s going to happen when your kids feel like they’ve failed God? They’re going to know that he is faithful, that he loves them, and that he is a rescuer.