Storytelling

Ever since seeing Akira Kurosawa's 1950 classic Rashomon, I have been a fan of multiple perspectives in film. Kurosawa’s film details the death of a samurai from four different points of view. Through the film, a bandit, a wife, a samurai, and a woodcutter explain the circumstances that caused the death of the samurai. Their stories conflict, signaling to the viewer that each is an untrustworthy storyteller. Kurosawa uses the narrative device not only to highlight the subjectivity of a story but to underscore a larger idea: a story need not be factual to be impactful. For most of my life, this has been my approach to reading biblical stories. Gigantic sea creatures, the earth stopping on its axis, and waters parting to reveal a road are elements in some of our sacred stories. They are not the central ideas. The Bible recounts stories of people trying to survive in a complicated world. The stories are about impossible circumstances, the wonders of humanity, the foils of individuals, and the quest for understanding the mysteries of living and the frailties of no longer existing. Rashomon has me contemplating the biblical witness. During the epilogue, each storyteller has rendered themself undependable because each of their accounts is a conflicting story. A local priest cannot overlook this flaw and resorts to reprimanding the woodcutter. As the priest continues his tirade, the woodcutter notices an abandoned child and takes the child in his arms, vowing to raise the youngling with his other children. The film ends with the sun peeking from the cloud and the priest stopping mid-sentence With the epilogue, Kurosawa makes an astute observation about humanity, inquiring if we are so invested in the story of the past that we are continually neglecting the stories that are evolving in front of our eyes. Fixation can be the danger of the biblical witness. People are so devoted to the stories that the narrative supersedes the purpose-- transformation. The stories from the Hebrew Bible and Christian Testament are tales that are complicated, intricate, glorious, and disastrous. We must look back at these stories and honor their journey and their contributions to our faith. Yet, we must also look forward in front of our faces to see what is emerging in the here and now. The ending of Rashomon is a notable statement to look at what is in front of us and focus on humanity.

-Brian Crisp, Minister of Mission & Adult Education