Stories of men and women who lived in a far away land, a very long time ago constitute my faith.  Their interaction with God is the basis of my spiritual formation. Their thoughts and meditations are the very foundation of my dogma. I know my God as the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.  The experiences and the memories of this Hebrew community was a huge part of my childhood memory.

As much as I draw theological principles out of the stories of their lives, I have also managed to dissociate these bible characters from reality. Ironically, the harsh lives that these patriarchs and prophets lived run through my mind as a comical cartoon strip. Should I blame my kindergarten bible teacher for dumbing down the bible to smiling animals, old man in a long gown splitting the sea and funny short man climbing trees?

A certain level of nostalgia is unavoidable when I read or listen to bible stories (especially since these were the stories I grew up with). But as I grow older, I need to welcome a shift in my mind in the way I see these stories and in turn the way I see God. There is nothing comical about wandering in the wilderness for 40 years, being a slave in a foreign land or facing a giant in the battlefield. This God of Israel intervened in the everyday lives of these people who I call bible characters in a very real way. And it’s time I see myself as part of this story.