Where the allegory explains a larger religious, philosophical, moral, or ethical idea, a retelling takes a specific story or past event and places it in a different context. Ancient Bible stories recreated in the modern era, or stories from Christian heroes and saints reimagined in a speculative genre (like science fiction or fantasy). The ultimate, overarching goal of a retelling is to break down a story to the audience, removing foreign elements while — crucially for Christian storytelling — retaining the story’s original message.

Symbolism and allegory operate in mostly the same way by using fictional elements, characters, or plot points to obscure or represent something else. They are both incredibly useful for all kinds of Christian storytelling regardless of the message type (covert or overt), format, genre, audience, or any other kind of category. However, where symbolism tends to be confined to just one specific piece of the story, an allegory stretches across the whole of the narrative. It is the story’s message and “bigger picture”, woven throughout the pages or frames of the fiction.

One of the most powerful tools in the Christian storytellers’ toolbox is symbolism. It allows deep, meaningful messages to be conveyed efficiently and — often times — subtly. It is useful in stories with both overt and covert messaging, although it tends to carry more weight in the latter. What, however, defines “symbolism”? And how can storytellers use it to their best advantage when it comes to the messages in their storytelling?

Covert messaging in storytelling is — in both the Christian and secular worlds — far too often overlooked. It is often considered weak, cowardly, or unwilling to express its overtly for some improper way. In the Christian realm, stories with covert messaging are often looked down upon and considered “not Christian enough” (which is so often a form of legalism and expression of works-based faith). If a story does not shout “Jesus” from the highest rooftops, it is thrown into a secular-untouchable box. Interestingly enough, this same kind of anti-covert messaging philosophy is raring its ugly head in the secular world as well; stories are called out for cowardice if they do not have enough of whatever the year’s highlight worldly virtue is. Stories with subtle messaging are under cultural attack and often struggle to find a market that will fully accept them.

In the modern world, overt messaging has a quite the reputation. It’s spoken about with crinkled noses, mouths twisted with disgust, and annoyed sighs. Now, this is not due to overt messaging in and of itself; there is nothing wrong with having a story that has a clear and distinct message to bring to the world. What it is due to is one particular type of overt messaging, which is the bane of every story’s existence: sermonizing. Sermonizing is, to put it mildly, the primary cause of death for the majority of “could’ve been great” stories. It draws the life and enthusiasm out of a piece of fiction like some kind of messaging blackhole. It turns the message from a gift the creator is offering to the audience into a club with which to bludgeon said audience. It is the same mechanic that is tearing the legs out from under all the major Hollywood studios in recent years as well as keeping Christian media relegated to its little corner of the wider media market.