Anatomy of a Story

Dear Author,

When I was a teenager, I decided that Christian books were not worth reading. I had read several dozen Christian romance novels, and they taught me to stay away from Christian fiction. As I learned to write stories, I avoided including outright Christianity, preferring allegory and abstract themes over the name of Jesus. I associated Christian books with cliché and overly sentimental plots and characters, painfully happy endings, and cringe-worthy conversations.

As much as I knew the books could improve with better writing and storytelling skills, there was something more about the way Christianity was presented that bothered me. I could not read the prayers or conversations about Christianity without wincing, and I often skipped over them entirely. It has taken me many years to identify and understand the problem, to come to the place where I can take what I have learned and apply it. To those who are writing these stories right now, please let me explain what has gone wrong.

You have failed to understand the platform of fiction stories, instead assuming it can function however you want it to. You have failed to explore a full, theological definition of the gospel, and you instead substitute a shallow and cliché filled version. Even more, you have failed to consider how these components should work together. Rather, you tack them to each other like mismatched puzzle pieces. As you continue to read, recognize this: when writing fiction, a Christian author must understand how the gospel, when theologically correct, works in concert with the nature and purpose of fiction.

I can tell you that Christian books have failed in this area, but you may not believe me. So let me show you.

The Negotiator, written by award-winning author Dee Henderson, is a classic example of Christian romance. This story brings together hostage negotiator Kate O’Malley and FBI agent Dave Richman for a surprise-filled journey. Kate, who is not a Christian, is being stalked by a man who eventually blows up a plane, killing over two hundred people. She wants answers, especially because it appears to involve her hidden and painful past. Dave just wants Kate to be safe, which is difficult when she keeps walking into danger. He also desperately wants her to trust God. In the end, they catch the bomber and vindicate Kate’s previously unknown brother. In the process, Kate learns to trust Jesus even when she does not fully understand his justice and mercy.

This book was written for the purpose of exploring the problem of justice, as Henderson says herself in the author’s note. Who the book is written for is not clear. Perhaps it is for Christians who struggle to understand God’s justice, or maybe it is for unbelievers who do not trust God at all the same reason. Either way, Henderson seeks to help her reader understand how God’s justice and mercy coincide, particularly when there seems to be so much injustice in the world.

To really begin taking the story apart, we first need to establish the definition of the gospel that Henderson is incorporating. The first time we catch a glimpse of what this faith is all about, 96 pages have passed. Jennifer, Kate’s younger sister who has been diagnosed with cancer, informs her that “I have to talk to you about Jesus. Tuesday scared me to death” (Henderson, 96). Tuesday was the day that Kate and Dave met, which involved a scuffle with a live bomb. At this point, Henderson’s definition of the gospel centers around the person of Jesus, though she does not say how. Almost one hundred pages later, we find another crumb of what the gospel offers. According to Kate, Dave has hope because he believes in God. Page 194 contains a description of who Jesus is and what he did on earth, but the conversation that Kate has with Dave almost forty pages after that gives the most complete definition of the gospel in the book.

Based on this conversation, Henderson defines the gospel as this: we are all sinners, and Jesus came to save us. He died in our place, giving us mercy and satisfying God’s justice. Those who do not believe will perish. Henderson gives two small additions to this summary when Kate goes to church with Dave: the gospel involves following Jesus, and it gives freedom. The biggest problem with this explanation of the gospel is the lack of concreteness, resulting in short and sometimes vague references that never explain anything. What are we hoping for? Why would we need saving from our sins? Why is the consequence of perishing so bad?

The most significant reason Dave and Jennifer share the gospel with Kate is fear of her death and subsequent condemnation to hell, but even that is implied and never explicitly stated. Henderson presents no other reason for Kate to believe. Additionally, the gospel is only described through conversation and verbal explanation. Nothing displayed in the lives of Jennifer and Dave suggests the gospel changes the way we live, nor does the story articulate how they live out their faith through actions. This is just another form of verbally professing without following through with actions.

Another problem is that the gospel plays no essential part in the plot. There is a tenuous connection, with the events of the story pushing Kate to consider what she thinks about God and his justice, but the connection is infrequent. At the end there seems to be a correlation between Kate asking God for a way to prove her brother innocent and actually finding the solution, but it appears unnecessary to her logical process. Basically, Christianity feels spliced into the plot, not contributing anything to it; the story would happen the same way without the gospel.

The gospel hardly affects the characters either. Dave, who is established as a strong Christian, rarely thinks about God and the faith that should influence his whole life. When he does, it is in awkward prayers that are always about Kate (Henderson 139, 164, 191, 223). None of his actions would change if he was not a Christian. Jennifer talks a lot about trusting God with her life, since she has cancer, and she even tells Kate about a horrible nurse she chooses to be nice to, since God commands Christians to love their enemies. But we see none of this or anything else lived out, since Jennifer is hardly in the book. She basically just shows up to talk.

This story contains the gospel only because the author wanted it to, not because the story required it. Henderson is a Christian author, so it is natural to assume that she would write Christian stories. In this book, she wanted to explore God’s justice and mercy, but it comes across as if she created the story first and added the gospel after the fact. Perhaps this was not her intention, but the disjointed nature of these elements suggests otherwise.  Even in her exploration of God’s justice she barely scratches the surface, resulting in an unsatisfactory conclusion. Henderson does not even define what she means by justice, leaving it as a broad category. Since Kate’s issue centers on her job, the story implies that Henderson wanted to address the injustice people inflict on each other, in a criminal sense. But she does not make it clear that justice includes far more, such as social justice.

Consequently, her explanation concludes that Jesus forgives and offers mercy because he paid the penalty and satisfied justice. This answer does not encompass the full problem of justice, nor does it need to in one story. But by failing to acknowledge this fact Henderson presents it as a blanket solution to all questions about justice, simplifying a complicated subject and unsuccessfully dealing with the issue. Furthermore, she spent more time developing the relationship between Dave and Kate and advancing the investigation they are conducting than the topics of justice and the gospel.

There is no way that someone interested in the topic of God’s justice and mercy would read this book as part of their investigation. This is a book for someone who wants to read clean romance and thriller story, or else thinks they should read only Christian books. Therefore, they are not looking for the way the gospel transforms lives or how we can understand justice and mercy. With romance and thriller as the goal, readers are going to miss the sparse explanations. If they do notice them, a reader would probably think that it is acceptable to be in a relationship with an unbeliever, because they can evangelize that person. A reader may also think that believing in God will result in their problems disappearing, as Kate’s investigation is concluded with the desired outcomes just as she decides to trust Jesus.

In summary, the problem with this book is its failure to integrate the gospel with the story itself, instead pasting them together like as if they are independent pieces. Furthermore, it presents a distorted gospel that never truly clarifies the reason for the gospel and the life, the person of Christ we hold in common, which we invite others into. With this as an example, can you see why I gave up reading and writing Christian stories? In my experience, it rarely gets any better than Dee Henderson, and I wanted nothing to do with books of this quality. But what should the gospel in fiction look like? It is easier to critique than to create, and no two stories are the same, yet there are a few specific points that can help you understand how stories should assert the gospel.

Before any writing can be done, the author must first establish a proper definition of the gospel for their own benefit as well as the reader. Without this foundation, everything that follows will communicate a very different message than what Jesus proclaimed. Be careful not to assume you know the gospel, because there is a problem with the usual definitions today. As Gerald Peterman says, “A new method of evangelism has led to the preaching of an oversimplified gospel; a gospel which is not wholly faithful to the New Testament” (Peterman 64). As dangerous as it can be to narrow the gospel down to essential elements, I do believe there are two parts to a proper definition of the gospel.

First, there is the reason a person needs the gospel. It is not just gaining eternal life and escaping hell, though that is part of it. Nor is it solely about the blessings they will receive. We need the gospel because we are broken people, incapable of fixing or rescuing ourselves from the nature of sin and the fracture between us and God. There are many ways to tell this truth, and it should never be reduced to a scripted presentation. What makes an individual recognize their own brokenness and their inadequacy to change it? What unquenchable need can Jesus fulfill in their lives?

Second, there needs to be an invitation into what the gospel offers; we cannot merely leave them with the knowledge that they are lost, but rather we need to invite them into the life that Jesus gives. Again, eternal life does not encompass the entirety of what we receive. There is also restoration with God that bridges our brokenness and unity with Jesus here on earth. What hope can God give to personal fears? Where can God bring peace to a person’s chaotic life? What is the common center that we all cling to?

As I said before, there is no perfect, scripted answer, because the gospel works differently in everyone. This is why gospel presentation must be sensitive, without losing its integrity, to the personal lives it touches. It should also be said that these cannot be subtle points, lest the rest of the story overwhelm the gospel it contains. Before moving on, I want to emphasize the place Jesus has in the gospel: he is the gospel, because he is the one who provides a way of restoration and he is the life we receive. If Jesus is not part of your gospel presentation, apart from “his work on the cross,” you have misunderstood the gospel.

Now that you understand what must be included in your gospel presentation, you need to grasp the nature of fiction. Fiction is a created story, which can be understood as a character who wants something, and their pursuit to get it. Fictional stories describe events and emotional journeys. In analyzing Flannery O’Connor’s writing, Christiana Lake says, “Fiction’s purpose is not to ‘give order’” (Lake 39). For all that fiction does accomplish, it does not offer solutions or answers. Here is where many authors fail. They want to give explanations for tough questions and answer troublesome problems. They think, as Dee Henderson did, “I want to help Christians understand God’s justice,” and then try to hand out the solution to their reader. The purpose of fiction has never been to lay out ABC explanations that bring readers to the perfect conclusion, nor can its nature successfully accomplish this.

Fiction tells stories, which take place in a specific time and place, with specific characters and circumstances. This means that all an author can do is present to the reader the way a character’s life has developed with those unanswered questions and problems. Of course, that brings up another significant component of fiction. Because the story follows a specific person and time and place, the possible meaning or message of the story is limited. One story cannot address everything there is to say about the justice of God, nor can one story undertake the outcome of every possible scenario. It can only speak to the characters and circumstances that the story itself embodies. Otherwise, the meaning for the story’s specific context and thus the purpose of the story altogether will be lost.

This leads to another aspect of fiction: it employs interpretation, not direct application like a sermon would. Because fiction does not have solutions and the context of the story is very limited, it can only be applied in principle through interpretation. It would be astonishing for someone to have the exact same circumstances as a character and thus be able to implement the explanations precisely as the characters did. It should simply make the reader consider their own life. Therefore, authors who want to write something significant need to create fiction stories that require thought.  Otherwise the reader will walk away thinking it is a nice story, but does not mean anything. This has been a failing on the part of both the author and the reader, since many readers are not used to thinking about the stories they read. The reader needs to approach the story expecting to tease out the meaning, and the author should provoke thought by the very story that they write.

Lastly, the author needs to understand that their story will be misunderstood, misinterpreted, and misused. According to Lake, O’Connor “knew that the particular idea she wanted her grotesques to displace…would lead to the greatest misunderstanding” (Lake 39). O’Connor wrote her stories expecting people to misread her fiction. It is not possible to control every misinterpretation, so Christian authors should not try to explain away all likely misunderstandings. Meaning, after all, is not solely determined by the writer, but negotiated between the author and reader. An author should just say what they mean as clearly as possible, and accept that some will misinterpret it. We take our best work and give it to God for him to use as he wants to, not put our trust in our own words and explanations.

But this is just fiction by itself. How can we understand the way fiction is informed by theology? In what ways should story and gospel be integrated together? One of the most important parts of theology to understand this is the Incarnation, which lies at the very heart of the gospel. The Incarnation is when Jesus took on the flesh of humanity and became part of his fallen creation. This event is “a historical fact with metaphysical implications and…spiritual news that demands personal answerability” (Lake 7). Because the Incarnation is significant to our theological understanding of the gospel, it must inform our presentation of the gospel.

Therefore, just as the coming of the gospel was concrete and embodied, gospel presentation needs to be told in concrete, tangible ways. It needs to be lived out through the characters, not pasted in through carefully worded and worked-in explanations that only show up in conversations. This means that the gospel cannot be an abstract idea simply attached to the story by some explanations; it should be part of the very fabric, the content, and the purpose of the story.

One very basic part of writing a story can help an author weave the gospel through their story: theme. “The theme is the central and unifying concept of the story. Therefore…it accounts for all the major details of the story” (Johnson 161). If an author sets out with the gospel as part of their theme, and they utilize theme correctly, they should have no difficulty incorporating the gospel into every part of the story, because every part of the story should be informing the theme. But there is something to take into consideration: “The theme cannot rely on supposed facts—facts not actually stated or clearly implied by the story. The theme exists inside, not outside, the story. The statement of it must be based on the data of the story itself, not on assumptions supplied from our own experience” (Johnson 161).

You should not assume your reader knows what the gospel is. That is another pitfall that authors fall into. Gospel presentation must be included for the reader to know what you are even talking about, even if they have heard the gospel before. It is entirely likely that the only gospel they know is one we are trying to avoid. Therefore, as part of your theme, gospel details must be included the same way that any other relevant story details, such as backstory, setting, and character development should be.

As I have stated before, the context of the story limits both the meaning and gospel presentation. There is so much to the gospel that could be addressed, and so many issues and questions that could be discussed. But it would be better to deal with the gospel within the context of  the characters’ lives and the problems they want answered, than to try and cover it all. If an author attempts to include everything that could be said about the gospel, it will result in simple and unsatisfactory explanations, a broad summary, and therefore say nothing truly important.

Do you understand how I want to see Christian books improve? Can you ascertain where you yourself have gone wrong? In recent years, I have read several Christian books that I thought were beautifully written, such as Flannery O’Connor’s stories, which have given me insight into the way fiction stories and the gospel ought to be woven together. This has given me hope that we can create such stories. Will you help me design fiction stories that communicate a better gospel, through the lives of the characters on the page? I believe that I am not the only one who understands how much this matters, and I believe that with a bit of instruction, we can revolutionize the genre of Christian fiction.

Sincerely,

A Tired Reader

Works Cited

Peterman, Gerald W. “Proclaiming Christ to Nonbelievers: The Gospel according to the Preaching in Acts.” Proclaiming Jesus: Essays on the Centrality of Christ in the Church in Honor of Joseph M. Stowell, Ed. Thomas Cornman. Moody Publishers, 2007, pp. 63-86.

Henderson, Dee. The Negotiator. Multnomah Publishers, 2001.

Lake, Christina Bieber. The Incarnational Art of Flannery O’Connor. Mercer University Press, 2005.

Johnson, Greg, and Thomas R. Arp. Perrine’s Story and Structure. Heinle & Heinle, 2002.