Telling stories that matter

My freshman philosophy professor at Bible college, Dennis Fisher, made quite the impression. He rocked the bow tie. He frequently played the banjo at the start of class. He prayed earnestly—and often—for the lost. And he is the first person I remember talking about the importance of developing a Christian worldview.

His required text was How Should We Then Live? by Francis A. Schaeffer. Thirty-six years later I still have that book on my shelf. Its distinctive green cover acts as a reference point for where many other books are located.

I honestly don’t remember many specifics within the book—I was only 18 when I read it—but near the end Schaeffer includes a note for Christians that has stuck with me: “We are not only to know the right world view, the world view that tells us the truth of what is, but consciously to act upon that world view so as to influence society in all its parts and facets across the whole spectrum of life, as much as we can.”

Paging through it again, it’s clearly a product of its time, and there are many passages that don’t feel as prophetic as they once did. But that paragraph shaped my thinking more than I realized at the time. In my various roles as father, husband, grandfather, radio producer, professor, executive, pastor, and trainer, it continues to inform my view of the good works God has ordained for me to walk in (Ephesians 2:10). The stories we produce and publish at WORLD should not only reflect what’s true but also equip believers with the knowledge that prompts them to act.

A second book that lives just a few inches away from Schaeffer’s is Through New Eyes: Developing a Biblical View of the World by James B. Jordan. I am not a Presbyterian, though I do live in a simple Civil War–era Presbyterian church building in rural Illinois in need of a lot of repair. I don’t embrace everything Jordan writes, but his literary and historical approach to interpreting the Scriptures revolutionized my own view of the Bible—seeing the sacred text as a cohesive whole that needs to be understood on its terms.

In his introduction Jordan argues that our goal as readers shouldn’t be to use the Scriptures to support a Christian worldview but “to get into the Bible and become as familiar as possible with the Bible’s own worldview, language, and thoughtforms. Our purpose is to learn to think the way people thought in Bible times.” The Bible shouldn’t be a proof text; it is the text.

WORLD embraces what we call “biblically objective journalism,” and our distinctive is providing biblical insight through the stories we write. To do this, we must know something about the Bible and be rooted in the truth found within its pages. Just as we rely on research and background observations for the stories we cover, we must also wrestle with what the Word of God says about what’s true, and it should inform our approach and content.

When asked for book recommendations related to the craft of journalism, my top suggestion isn’t a journalism book. It’s a book on how to tell a good story: Storyworthy by Matthew Dicks.

We spend a lot of time teaching our reporters how to write good stories, but Dicks suggests we are built to hear them. His approach to storytelling comes from a worldview very ­different from my own, and his examples are at times in poor taste, but what he does so well is remind readers that stories matter. We are created to tell them. He spends time unpacking what makes a good story.

A simple piece of advice worth the price of the book is what he calls the “Dinner Test.” Every storyteller should ask the simple question: “Is the story I’m telling similar to the story I would tell a friend over dinner?” WORLD strives to present polished, memorable, and vivid stories, but we also aim to be conversational, making our stories relatable and transformative.

Dicks also challenges the reader to become a story collector. He practices a short-form daily diary: a spreadsheet of single line entries. He says those little seeds often turn into wonderful stories to retell later. It also helps him remember what has been significant and worthy of further reflection.

His practice reminds me of Psalm 105, which encourages us not only to recognize God’s goodness and faithfulness but to remember them, meditate on them, and declare them to others.

After my freshman year, I changed my major to communications. My academic adviser was Chuck Christensen—a well-known broadcaster for the 1950s as the voice of Sailor Sam on Moody Radio. He advocated becoming “a Renaissance man,” encouraging broad interests and curiosity. Which brings me to one other title on my bookshelf. It’s a couple shelves below Shaeffer and Jordan—at least when it’s not loaned out. Eric Sloane’s America (1982) collects three books the author wrote in the mid-1950s about our cultural history. I’ve spent hours paging through his artistic catalog and conversational accounts of colonial craftsmen, their tools, and the buildings they left behind. The illustrations are delightful but the real star of his work is the prose: “Great-grandfather enjoyed the proud life of an artist living among artists; everything about him he had created himself. He made farms out of forests and he built his house with tools fashioned by his own hands.”

Slone’s work could be described as “nostalgic.” But it’s much more than a longing for simpler times. He helps us understand it was much harder, but he also says the conveniences of modern life have robbed us “of our creativeness and the result is often a moral emptiness.”

Sloane reminds me to walk the old paths. To take the time to make things that last longer than yesterday’s news. To remember and talk about those who’ve gone before. And to not just have a worldview, but slow down and view the world as well.

—Paul Butler is an award-winning journalist, producer, filmmaker, and pastor who serves as WORLD’s training director