Back Stories (Part I)

“I love to know the back-stories,” said Larry Moody, a man who for all intents and purposes serves as chaplain of the Professional Golf Association (PGA) and is the President and CEO of Search Ministries, as he described watching the Olympics. “To know something of their stories makes watching them compete much more meaningful. When you see their face, or hear their name, you go ‘hey, I know something about that person.’”

He was speaking of athletes, of course, but the same could be said of us common folk as well. We know the names and faces of countless people, but when we know a person’s back-story the relationship is completely transformed. “Knowing” someone takes on a depth and richness at which the other kind of knowing can only hint.

Back stories are the bass of a friendship, but we often settle for AM radio sound. Back stories usually contain struggles, or at least the good ones do, and those struggles lay a foundation for the person he or she is today. Learning about such foundations strangely grounds us as well. The person becomes three dimensional, and we are given permission to be the same. Back stories move a person from Hallmark Card status to flesh and blood.

* When Mother Teresa died, people read her private journal and realized this venerated soul had spiritual and theological doubts. While some heard the news with horror, others loved her more than ever. On the fast-track to becoming a Saint, some felt the need to slow the process down. I say, speed it up!

* I came across a conversation on television between Tom Watson and David Ferity, golfers known to many. In the conversation, however, they spoke of their common struggle with alcohol and mutual support in living sober lives. It was a powerful conversation, based on what many regard as weakness, and made me admire the two more than ever.

* I grew up believing my father was incredible. Watching him lead a discussion or perform at the piano left me in awe as a child. Recently, I have come to know about his deep shyness and how the piano gave him social comfort or safety. The myth became a man, and now I understand my own social struggles in ways never known before.

Back stories bring people and relationships to life. They also invite us to deeper, more authentic, lives. They demand effort and courage, but the benefits far outweigh such costs.

May we tell part of our back story, and listen to others’, today.