Amanda (Shine ’05) Zambrano
If you had the opportunity to attend chapel on Monday, you had the chance to hear some of the story of Houghton’s 4th president, Dr. Daniel Chamberlain, and his wife, Joyce. The Chamberlains both passed away in 2024 and our time in chapel honored their legacy and celebrated the ways God used them to bless generations of Houghton students. Dr. Davies, Dr. Gaerte and President Lewis all shared stories about the Chamberlains.
I imagine at least some of you came away with the question: Why?
If you’d not yet had your coffee and were feeling a bit tetchy on a Monday morning, you may have even
asked: So what?
If you didn’t go at all, there’s a reasonably good chance you asked yourself: Who cares?
Well, I’m so glad you asked! In my work as Houghton’s Director of Advancement Communication, I often
find myself in the unofficial role of Houghton’s Storyteller. While I’m not nearly as gifted a storyteller as,
say, Prof. Gaerte or Prof. Dashnau, I am blessed with regular opportunities to tell Houghton stories past
and present. It’s rare for me go through a whole day without reflecting on what a privilege it is to tell
these stories. They’re your stories. They’re our stories. Most importantly, they’re God’s stories.
Whenever I dig into a new storytelling project, I find myself thinking about the many ways the Bible uses
stories. The Scriptures are full of the stories of women and men God called to serve Him. It tells us of
their weaknesses, their faith, their failures and their successes. Take a look at Hebrews 11—it’s chalk full
of people just like you and me who have stories that God wanted us to hear and remember on the tough
days.
So, why?
When we see God moving in and through the lives of others—including people like Dr. and Mrs.
Chamberlain—we’re inspired, we’re encouraged, and often we receive helpful insights into living out
our lives as Christ-followers. This is part of the point of Hebrews 11—our faith is undergirded and built
up by the stories of the saints.
Okay then. So what?
The act of remembering through storytelling honors the work that God did in and through the lives of
those who have gone before us. Storytelling pays tribute to people who labored on the foundations and
framework upon which our lives are built. These foundations are the stories of the saints of the
scriptures; the saints of the church; and the saints in our families and neighborhoods. Whether it’s the
story of Hannah in I Samuel or the story of your granddad last week, some part of who you are, and
some part of your faith, rests on those stories. And the stories in this framework aren’t limited to the
people you personally know; they’re the stories of persecuted Christians in the Middle East and the pastor next door and that kid in your class last week. So, when we tell the Chamberlains’ story, we’re
telling a chapter of your story.
But really, who cares?
Well, I do, for one. Stories matter; the stories we choose to tell are important. I care about the stories I
tell and the stories I hear because I need stories I can remember when I’m uncertain or
discouraged—stories illuminate the vast array of God’s ways of working in and through His people. I care
because all too often I neglect the hospitality that Mrs. Chamberlain modeled so very well. I care
because I routinely forget to point people to Jesus in moments of crisis, as Dr. Chamberlain did in the
Fall of 1981. I desperately need the reminder of their lives because I’m still learning and practicing the
many callings God has placed on my life.
I think, if you ask around, you’ll find I’m not alone in caring about the stories of the saints who’ve gone
before us and walked beside us. I’m willing to guess that at some point today you interacted with
someone who has his or her own story about Dr. and Mrs. Chamberlain—a story he or she no doubt
recounts in a moment when it is most needed to inspire or encourage or challenge.
Maybe, with little bit of reflection, you’ll find that you care, too. ★
