The Kingdom of Heaven is like…..
(Parables of MSE)
Storytelling is tremendously powerful. It is one of
the oldest human traditions – way back at the dawn of human history we can
picture the family huddled in a cave, or the tribe around a big fire, listening
to a story. Stories passed the time and were entertaining, but they were much
more than that. History, culture and religion were enshrined in story, essential
knowledge was passed on through story, genealogies established and remembered,
old friendships and hatreds rehearsed and renewed or lamented. At the very
beginning of the Bible, the first three chapters of Genesis preserve two
different stories of the creation, one originating from a nomadic desert tribe
(for whom the Garden of Eden would naturally be an oasis in the desert) while
the other came from an agricultural people living in a fertile coastal land with
rivers and ports, whose idea of Eden was an island in the sea.
Jesus was a natural storyteller. Again and again,
when seeking to make a particular point, he seizes on the device of a story to
illustrate his meaning. His stories are invariably built round everyday
situations and experiences which would be familiar to his audience. Sometimes he
uses well-known stories of the day, but adapts them to give a sting in the tail,
jerking his hearers from comfortable enjoyment to consideration of something new
and surprising. He signals his
stories clearly: “A man was building his house…”, “A sower went out to sow his seed…”, “A
man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho…”, “A woman had ten silver coins…”,
and, most directly and most frequently, “The kingdom of heaven is like…”. Sometimes he explains the story;
sometimes he leaves his listeners to work the meaning out for themselves.
We who minister in secular employment find ourselves
required to use the everyday language of the workplace to “see and tell the
Christian story there”. We cannot hide behind the language of theology when
talking to our colleagues. Story is an important tool for us too, and we find
ourselves using twenty-first century examples to help us put our points across.
This is a very small collection of stories compiled by CHRISM members. Its
intention is to encourage you in your use of the technique. What is the kingdom
of heaven like, where you are?
Do send us your own stories. The CHRISM journal will
happily print them. You never know what will spark off a useful thought in
someone else’s mind!
The Kingdom of Heaven is like ….
… the work of the Partial Exemption Team, Customs &
Excise, in the North West.
Partial Exemption has been modestly called the snake pit in the minefield
of VAT, and we get a great deal of our work when someone – a colleague or a
business – realises they have a problem. It’s known as the “oh shit!” factor, and
we’re asked to help clear it up.
The first task is to identify just what the problem
is. The second deciding the best
way to address it. If there is a
method for Partial Exemption in place already, is it “fair and reasonable” – and
workable. If not, what is? Often it really is a case of
saying: “Scrap that and let’s start again from scratch”.
Nor is it easy to agree on the problem and solution.
It may be that someone disagrees, in which case we need to patiently and
carefully go through and demonstrate why there is a problem and work together to
find the best solution. Ideally, if
the person who did not agree in the first place can be brought round to
recognise the problem and then propose the solution we have been leading round
to ……
The task is complete when all parties have agreed on
the outcome and can make a fresh start.
Until the next time that is!
A recent experience
sums it up well. A colleague
was on an audit to a large and very well-known company and had found that part
of the Partial Exemption method could not work, as it did not fit the form of
accounting system information. The
colleague ‘phoned me: “Houston, we have a problem…”. A few minutes thought brought a bright idea that was both
workable and within the legal framework.
A telephone conference was hurriedly arranged the same afternoon. The Company Taxation Manager set out his
stall and proposed that we allow something that we could not – and was quite
sure there was no other solution.
Rather than get into a debate, a quick change of tack to “If the problem
is ….. what if we were to do this: ….” and the pennies could be heard dropping
at the other end. Salvation may
come in some strange forms but come it will.
The Kingdom of Heaven is like…
…a chemical factory, which takes in a lot of
chemicals and raw materials:
- some of them are dropped onto the floor or spilt on
the ground and are lost down the drains, flow into the river and into the
environment;
- some of them are get burned in accidental fires and
cause explosions, injury and death, and large clouds of black smoke;
- some get breathed by the workers in the factory and
lead to long-term health problems;
- but some of these chemicals are used to make
products which are useful to the customers – to you and to me. They create more jobs, give support to
the local neighbourhood, develop the local economy, and create an income for the
shareholders and for pensioners.
(or, to put it another way, the kingdom of heaven) is
like a business which decided to adopt Total Quality Management. A new Managing Director came into the
business and trained up some of the people to help others work in groups to
identify problems and sort out problems.
They worked together and formed other groups and solved even more problems.
But then there came a change in the financial climate
and the business could no longer compete with the right quality material. So the
business closed and everyone was made redundant.
But such was the culture of teamwork that all the
staff worked together – they brought in job adverts from the papers, they told
the others where they found a job opening – and so they helped each other find
new jobs.
And the day production
stopped, everyone - from shop floor
operators to the Directors -
went out for a great feast in the pub, and stayed there for an eternity – well,
at least until long after closing time.
There was once a row of trees.
Somebody planted them about eighty years ago; they
had reached a great size. Woodpeckers visited regularly, starlings nested in
holes, squirrels built drays, pigeons, jays and magpies sunbathed in the huge
branches. In early summer seeds drifted, white, gossamer light, down the gentle
breeze to cover the ground. On every strong wind their countless leaves made the
sound of water on a gravel beach. Winter snow outlined trunks and boughs in
magical shapes against the frost blue sky.
People began to notice. They liked the tree screen
for their houses, admired the seasonal colours and watched the wildlife round
the year. They enjoyed the soothing seaside sound, and wondered at the prolific
silence of countless seeds. Tree Officers discovered, recorded, and named the
trees “Black Poplars”. They were noted in national surveys.
More people came, and built houses on the other side
of the trees, and too close. At first those who lived in the new houses also
liked the screen, and the burbling, rippling, soothing sound of the trees. But
soon, in their much restricted space, the trees needed care. Sadly the new
people did not know their name, their rarity, or how to care. People became
fearful of the size of the trees; insurers warned of the risks; money was short;
Tree Officers were over-worked; Preservation Orders were not made.
One day, in just one day, the slow, beautiful work
of eighty years was gone at the hands of three men with chain saws. There was
now only silence in the summer wind; the birds and animals were confused;
everywhere was a vast hole in the sky! Soon those who had felled the trees
disliked the view of brick and plastic houses. The new people had no screening
from the “ children’s playgrounds” of their neighbours’ gardens. The buyers of
houses searched for greener places to live.
Do we plant or take down? Do we speak with our
neighbours of our shared involvement with the world of trees, plants, animals,
and other creatures? If we fail to talk of our shared back-gardens what will
happen when really big challenges come?
Once upon a time there was a very large company.
Once
upon a time - because all the best stories start that way - once upon a time
there was a very large company which did business with many other very large
companies. One piece of business was not going well. The customer staff were
uncooperative, uncertain about their requirements but extremely critical of the
work that was done for them. This made for a very difficult atmosphere. But the
people who worked on this business had been together for four or five years,
and an excellent team spirit had grown up, partly driven by the awkward
environment they worked in. They coped with
changing requirements and worked long hours to meet deadlines. They developed
a strong loyalty to each other and an almost bloody-minded determination to
deliver the goods despite all the hurdles the customer put in their way.
Perhaps surprisingly, staff turn-over was much lower than average.
Then,
quite unexpectedly, the customer cancelled a large part of the contract.
Suddenly there was no more work for people to do, and no need for the team
itself any more. It really felt as though there were to be no results from all
the hard work they had done - it would all be wasted. Morale went to
rock-bottom in half an hour, and people started polishing their CVs.
The
team leaders took the decision not to make anyone redundant, and set about
finding new jobs for everyone. Over the next few weeks, people got training -
in some cases the first they'd had for several years. They were redeployed to
different parts of the company and found themselves working on other business
in new teams, often using more up-to-date technology. Some took on new
responsibilities; others drew on prior experience to help in dealing with other
difficult situations.
The
old team met up in the pub six months later. After quite a large number of
pints, they came to the conclusion that losing that business had been a good
thing - for the company, as well as for themselves.