**2. Stories and Storying**

## *2.1. A Story of Wolves*

There is an ancient story attributed to the Cherokee people<sup>1</sup> which tells us that we are each made up of two wolves, one which is evil and feeds on our anger and other base emotions, and one which is good and feeds on our joys and compassion. The one we feed the most will be the one who lives. This is but one way to speak about the competing and often conflicting impulses and desires that make up what it can mean to be human. Note where human agency resides in this story: in making choices about what to feed, how to nurture, a particular dynamic.

I grew up with Christians in churches who tell a story of conflicting emotions and actions in terms of the Fall in the book of Genesis, and so draw on a theology of original sin to describe the ways in which we as humans must constantly seek forgiveness from a judgmental God who rules in omnipotence. Even the overflowing grace of a God who chooses Incarnation, who chooses to pour Godself out in a kenosis beyond imagining in the body of Jesus the Christ gets interpreted as seeing God's action as a "sacrifice" for our sins, rather than as an exercise in "at-one-ment." For me, at least, this story has been profoundly destructive, leading to shame and a temptation to view myself as "saved" while others are "damned." There are, however, many other ways to tell the stories of Genesis. I have been gifted with biblical colleagues who have helped me to follow the Christ into a sacramental imagination that leads to these other interpretations, each of which tends to "feed the wolf" in differing ways, and several of which invite us into compassion, justice, and clear engagemen<sup>t</sup> in global interdependence.<sup>2</sup>

My point here is that we are story people. We tell stories to make sense of ourselves, of our relationships with others, with God, indeed with all of creation. The challenge for religious educators in the uncertainty, constant change, and turmoil of the worlds we inhabit is to ignite curiosity about the stories we hold most dear, to curate versions of them that are life-giving, and to help people develop the practices and capacities necessary for a thriving religious imagination.
