Forgetting to Remember

We are fickle beings. Stuff that we really shouldn't remember, like that bad picture we saw, or the mean thing someone did, we can't get out of our heads. But on the flip side, for me, if it is not in my calendar getting to an appointment is far from guaranteed. The other day, I was further reminded of how sad my memory is as I caught myself checking my makeup in the passenger visor mirror in the car for the third time in a few minutes.

Somehow this led me to thinking about how God instructed the Israelites to practice remembering stuff. In particular, He wanted them to remember the stories about what He had done for them in the past. This started to tie into something larger for me as I “Bah, humbugged” my way toward Christmas and asked myself and my family about why we do this to ourselves every year.

I realised that the reason God gave these instructions to the Israelites was probably just as necessary to us today, even with all our technology and education. Personally, I am painfully aware of how very quickly I forget the blessings God has bestowed on me, His deliverance, His mercy, His provision, His love. There are times I can resemble a small child, feeling as though I have been abandoned as soon as my Parent is out of my zone of awareness for a minute.

Perhaps this is why we need to practice remembering. And I think it has to be more than simply remembering Bible verses or promises in our heads or a generalised “yep, God has been good to us in the past”. I think it has to be personal and specific and that it has to be with others. We have all probably experienced the extra impact that occurs when you share a story with someone else. Like my daughter surviving for half an hour after cutting herself on the deli slicer at work and only falling to pieces when she rang me, or the increased joy we feel when we get to share good news with a loved one, it is in sharing our experiences that they somehow become more real. Saying it out loud impacts us.

Something I have also become aware of more recently is the loss of formal celebrations in our communities. Growing up in a “high Anglican” church, although I found the liturgy tedious or repetitive at times, celebrating the different feast days and important dates always had a level of excitement because of the formality, which not only included words, but also actions. The symbolism of having no flowers, pictures or candles in the church during Lent did not perhaps affect me that much, but going along on Easter Saturday with everyone else in the church to scrub it from head to foot and prepare it with masses of flowers, candles and other regalia was special. And the fact that special clothes were worn and special incense was used (even though we joked about it at the time), only added to the sense of occasion and its importance. These things not only gave the celebration greater depth, but it also built a depth in the community from the shared experience.

Part of my struggle with Christmas this year was the amount of time I find myself taking to prepare for a few meals. I kept finding myself wondering what the point of it all is. However, I think perhaps this is part of the key. Celebrating and remembering properly does take work and effort. I have read material from people who have decided to return to celebrating the Sabbath. They have said the same thing. It takes a fair bit of extra work to prepare for a day without work, but, they have also said it is worth it, and it makes a difference to their whole life.

So I still have some work to do. Speeches and formality can be awkward in family situations. But without it, we lose the impact of remembering. And after all, remembering can also be fun. Perhaps it shouldn’t be forgotten!