Alamo

Heather and I watched “The Alamo” tonight. The reviews have been mixed and the box office numbers for its opening weekend will be disappointing. That’s really too bad, because we both thought it was a fine film. I’m not just saying that because I’m from Texas. Growing up in Texas I had as bad a case of “Texas Pride” as anybody. It’s been seven years since I lived in Texas, and in that time I’ve come to see why non-Texans roll their eyes when Texans start to talk about their beloved state. Sometimes it comes across as being pretty silly. Some big-mouthed Texans make me feel the same way that televangelists do–I’m embarrassed for them and embarrassed by them.

Tonight, I realized why native Texans are the way we are. We have a great story. The story of the Alamo is a powerful tale that we grow up hearing. We’re even tested on it in the seventh grade. Most states don’t have a “story” to rival the Texas story. I lived in Washington state for six years and never heard much about the Washington story. Everybody in Washington, and every other state for that matter, knows the story of the Alamo. The proud Texan has simply taken his story to heart.

The same thing is true of America. Why is Canada’s national ethos so different from America’s? One reason is because America has the better story. At least that’s what I heard Canadian scholar John Stackhouse say one time. A good story can have a tremendous impact on the way we see ourselves and the rest of the world.

If I were a preachy kind of preacher, right about now I’d transition to saying something about the power of the Christian story to shape our worldview. Then I’d wonder out loud why so many of the Texans and Americans I know, who also happen to be Christians, haven’t let themselves be shaped as deeply by the story of Jesus as they have by the stories of Davy Crockett and Paul Revere.