Aly Hawkins

Well, I’ve finally gotten around to applying to seminary. I’m excited. And terrified. I haven’t been accepted yet; I just popped everything in the mailbox this morning. I’ll let you know when I hear the good (or possibly bad) news.

Until then, I thought you might enjoy the “essay” I wrote as part of the application. (I use scare quotes because I didn’t exactly follow the instructions.) Here, for your reading enjoyment, is part 1 of “A True Myth.”

There was once a girl born to an ancient line of Singers. Time out of mind, generations of the girl’s forebears had been Singers for the Storytellers, the Tribe of tribes.

The Storytellers had each heard the Voice and learnt its Story in their own tongue. They sojourned among their native tribes, telling and retelling the Story around ceremonial fires and on feast days and in high places and low places, yet their hearts dwelt in the Tribe of tribes. Their loyalties were pure and undivided; for the Story named the native tribes not enemies of the Voice, but its beloved daughters and sons from of old, who had forgotten the Story and settled for their own. Longing for their sisters and brothers compelled the Storytellers to wander with the native tribes.

The Singers were Storytellers too, yet they had special duties among the Tribe. Their first obligation was to sing the Story when the Storytellers gathered, reminding them of its words and melody and cadence. In this way, when the Storytellers resumed their travels and heard their native tribes’ stories, they could listen for echoes of the Voice. For the Voice did not speak only to Storytellers, but ever called its wandering children home, singing its invitation even in their discordant, unfinished tales of sacrifice, betrayal, violence, hope, grief and devotion. When the Storytellers caught wind of the Voice’s whispered summons twined in the native tribes’ stories, they added their voices to its call. Thus, many heard the Story and became Storytellers.

The Singers’ second obligation was to harmonize their song with the Old Ones’ songs. The Old Ones were Singers who had come before. Their renderings of the Story sounded alien and unsettling if one did not first learn their scales and rhythms, for each had sung the Story in a different way, according to his or her time and place and native tribe. By learning the Old Ones’ ways, the Singers sang truly.

The Singers’ third obligation was to guide the Storytellers in living the Story. For the Story was not just words to be chanted around fires and on feast days and in high places and low places; it was the Way of the Tribe of tribes. This was a mystery.

Part 2 to come . . .

Filed under: church, theology, writing Tagged: | allegory, seminary, storytelling