Spiritual amnesia
Our memories can be notoriously unreliable. Within days of 9/11, the accounts of eye-witnesses began to diverge wildly. Communication experts tell us how difficult it is to correct a pervasive myth in the culture. By repeating “X is not true” again and again, people are much more likely to remember “X” than “not true.”
And yet memory plays a central role in our faith. The Bible itself is a book of memory, a record of our story with God and one another. But how exactly does memory function in our spiritual lives? We are told to “remember our baptism,” but how do those who were baptized as infants do this? Do we try to piece together the details of the event? Do we simply remember that we were baptized? Or is memory more than a cognitive recall of past history?
When Jesus offers the bread to his friends and asks them to “do this in remembrance of me,” he is not asking them to replicate the breaking of bread in order to relive the past, but to transform the present and to be equipped for future ministry. In communion we re-member, piecing together our lives with the biblical story in order that we might be united and conformed to Christ.
Memory plays a particularly significant role in times of despair. The writer of Psalm 42 cries out to God at a time of spiritual darkness. As the tears flow, the question taunts him, “Where is your God?” Like a heartbroken lover, the psalmist remembers the glad shouts and joy of the past, but the recollection does not make the psalmist feel any better: “Why are you cast down, O my soul?” he asks himself. The memories flooding around him seem to provide more pain than comfort.
But later in the psalm, there is a shift. The psalmist writes, “My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you.” In the midst of the heartbreak the psalmist moves into the realm of memory, recalling those times when God was present. He remembers the promises of God, and receives strength to go on.
Memories of the past can be both the source of pain and the antidote for it. People who have felt the loss of a loved one can be caught off guard by a memory that comes from out of nowhere, bringing a fresh wave of sorrow with it. At the same time, a loved one who is no longer with us can seem close by through the power of our memories of the person. Such memories are precious treasures.
Memory is central to our faith; yet we are also faced with a powerful counter-testimony from Isaiah 43: “Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing.” The prophet suggests that memories of the past can paralyze us and keep us from seeing God’s work anew.
Memory can give way to nostalgia, a distorted view of the past in which life was all sweetness and light, particularly when compared to a gritty present reality. Scripture provides a partial corrective to nostalgia: we are called to remembrance and amnesia both.
Sometimes we remain captive to a difficult past. When a tragedy happens, it is common practice to send in trained counselors to debrief the survivors. The thought is that by talking things out, people can move on from traumatic events. The reality may not be that simple.
According to a 2004 article in The New Yorker, some research indicates that because debriefing asks vulnerable trauma victims to re-open their wounds, it can actually impede recovery. The article cited a study of burn victims in which patients who received debriefing were much more likely to report posttraumatic stress disorder symptoms than other patients in a control group.
So how do we know when to claim our past, and when to put it to rest? There are no easy answers. Churches struggle with this conundrum in everything from worship styles to forms of government.
Innovators accuse traditionalists of wallowing in old outdated patterns and ignoring the new thing God is doing. Traditionalists caution innovators not to develop amnesia toward where we have been as a church. Like most of the issues of time we have examined in this series, careful and humble discernment provides us with our best way forward. |
