A new doctor--a young woman--came to a small town. Only one member of the community wasn't impressed with her. Old Jim Jones was the town grouch, and he was determined to show everyone that the new doctor wasn't all that great. So, he made an appointment with her.
"Doctor," he said, "I have lost my sense of taste."
The female doctor said, "What you need is my special concoction, #3."
She brought out this concoction and gave a dose to Jim Jones to taste. After tasting it he immediately spit it out, "That's gross!" he yelled, loud enough for everyone in the waiting room to hear him. "I just restored your sense of taste Mr. Jones," said the doctor. Mr. Jones was not happy at all with being outfoxed this way--particularly by a young woman. Some time later, he went back to this doctor with a new complaint.
"Doc," he said, "I've lost my memory!"
With a smile on her face the doctor told Mr. Jones, "What you need is my special concoction #3 . . ."
Before the doctor could finish her sentence, Mr.
Jones fled from her office.
Evidently his memory was not as bad as he thought.
Do you ever have trouble with your memory? Do you have a problem with names or faces? There is a new device out that may aid those of us who have trouble remembering names or conversations. It is a combination computer, microphone, and tape player. The nice thing about it is that it is totally portable and it is voice-activated. It can record snippets of your conversations, including the time and location of a conversation, so that you can later recall whom you met and where. The device is programmed to begin recording when it "hears" the phrase, "Nice to meet you." Those four magic words start the tape rolling. (1) That's neat.
Now, if I could just remember to say, "Nice to meet you" every time I meet someone new, I would have it made.
The writer of the book of Deuteronomy is giving instructions about the proper way for the children of Israel to present an offering to God. He says that when the priest takes the basket from the worshiper's hand and sets it down before the altar of God, the worshiper should speak these words: "A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in number, and there he became a great nation, mighty and populous. When the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, by imposing hard labor on us, we cried to the Lord, the God of our ancestors; the Lord heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression. The Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with a terrifying display of power, and with signs and wonders; and he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. So now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground that you, O Lord, have given me."
Memory was very important to the people of Israel. That is obvious from this passage of Scripture. "A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien . . ." The worshiper is remembering, of course, the story of Joseph. Joseph brought his family into Egypt, where he was the second most powerful man in the land, second only to the Pharaoh. But time passed and there came to the throne a Pharaoh who did not remember Joseph. The people of Israel fell into slavery in their new land. They were oppressed, but they cried out to God and God heard them and brought them out of slavery into a land flowing with milk and honey. And on the Sabbath, they remembered. And at each of their sacred feasts, they remembered. And when they brought their offerings to present to the Lord, they remembered. Memory was important to them.
Memory is important to Christians, too, isn't it? When we pass the bread and the cup for the Lord's supper we are remembering. Each time the scriptures are read, and the hymns are sung and the word is preached, we are remembering.
Author Tony Campolo is a professor of sociology and an ordained minister. It is not uncommon for Campolo's students to ask him to perform their wedding. And Campolo is happy to oblige as long as the bride and groom agree to use the traditional wedding vows. He gets a lot of flak for taking this stance. The bride and groom are upset that they can't put their own individualistic stamp on the ceremony. But here's Tony Campolo's reasoning for using traditional vows: as the bride and groom go through the wedding ceremony, each married person in attendance is also re-living his or her wedding. Each person is silently reciting the marriage vows with them. In this way, a wedding re-affirms the marriages of all those in attendance. (2)
Some things in life ought to be remembered. That is part of the reason for coming to worship each week. Our memories tell us who we are--not only as a people--but as individuals.
Todd Outcalt, in his book, The Best Things in Life Are Free, tells about a short story authored by Charles Dickens, titled, "Tale of a Chemist." It is a futuristic tale in which a famous chemist is tortured by the painful memories of his past. He tries desperately to shake these memories from his mind, for they haunt him constantly, plaguing his days and tormenting his nights. But his efforts are to no avail. Eventually he decides that he will undergo a series of experimental shock treatments, which will obliterate his memory and give him a new lease on life. This he does, and the shock treatments are a complete success.
However, the chemist soon discovers that the obliteration of his memory has had some dire consequences. Because his entire memory has been erased, he has no past. He cannot remember where he was born, who his parents were, who his friends are or where he has come from. He is lost without the simple recollections of familiar faces and names. Not only are the painful memories gone, but also the memories that compose his identity as a human being.
At the end of the story, the chemist cries out for his past--painful memories and all. He wants what he has lost, for without his memories he is nothing. Wilting inside, he cries out again and again, "Keep my memory green. Keep my memory green." (3)
What a powerful story. We do cherish our memories, don't we? Memories of our childhood, memories of those we once loved who are now with God, memories of our wedding day, the birth of our children, our baptism or confirmation, memories of vacations, and significant victories at work, and all kinds of precious events. Israel retained their identity as a people because they remembered their history as a people. There are some things that need to be remembered.
Elaine Pondant recalls inheriting her parent's old bed after her father's death. Elaine noticed a list of dates and names faintly scratched in the surface of the wooden headboard. Elaine's mother explained that she and her husband had used the headboard as a memory album; these names and dates made up the story of their lives.
September 18, 1946--the day they got married.
Elizabeth, October 22, 1947 represents the day their baby daughter, Elizabeth, died.
Ralph, February 18, 1966. Ralph was a young soldier who had saved their son's life during the Vietnam War. Ralph died a couple of years later while on a tour of duty.
Since that day, Elaine and her husband have added new names and dates to the headboard, and new stories to the family history. (4) There are some things that need to be remembered.
There are some things that need to be forgotten. Our memories are a wonderful gift to us--unless they cripple our ability to function as whole persons, as families, and as a community in the present world.
There are tragedies being lived out in the world today because people refuse to forget ancient grievances, ancient resentments, ancient hatreds.
Life magazine carried a story recently about a parade in Northern Ireland. If there is one place on earth besides the Middle East where people need short memories, it is this land that has been tortured by so much violence. Every summer, the Protestant Orangemen of Northern Ireland parade through a particular Catholic neighborhood to commemorate a battle that is now three hundred years old. Back in the 1600s, Protestant King William III defeated Catholic King James II in a battle on the Boyne River. This annual march commemorating the victory of King William III stirs up a great deal of antagonism in the Catholic neighborhood.
Recently, the march stirred up more than the usual amount of animosity because only days prior, a terrorist act of arson in the neighborhood had killed three young Catholic brothers. The Protestants' insistence on carrying out their march was seen as particularly insensitive. Mourners responded by lining the streets in protest, holding up signs with one word directed at the Orangemen: SHAME. (5)
One group's sacred memories was another's call to arms. Look at the Middle East or at Pakistan and India or many places on the African continent and see how ancient memories still play havoc with people's lives today. Some things need to be forgotten.
But it is also true on an individual level as well. How many people live in misery because they can't let go of hurtful memories? How many marriages would be improved if one partner or the other could just forget? In A Prayer for Owen Meany, John Irving says, "Your memory is a monster; you forget--it doesn't. It simply files things away. It keeps things for you, or hides things from you--and summons them to a recall with a will of its own. You think you have a memory; but it has you!" (6) And for some people that is true. Like the chemist there are people who would do anything to escape the monster called memory. There are things that need to be remembered, but there are also things that need to be forgotten.
The altar of God can be a place where new, healthy memories begin and old hurtful memories can be left behind. That's the good news for the day. This is a place for a new beginning. Even though we hold on to some memories that are precious and even sacred, we let go of hurtful memories so that we can move into the future.
Steve Reeves tells about a woman who underwent a very delicate form of brain surgery. When the doctors removed a tumor they were concerned that the slightest mistake could cause her to lose either her memory or her eyesight. So they asked the woman to choose which side of the brain tissue they'd enter with their scalpels. In other words, if she had to lose one of those senses, which would she prefer to lose? She wisely said, "Let me think about it overnight, and I'll tell you tomorrow which is more important to me."
The next day she said, "If I had to lose either my memory or my eyesight, I would prefer to lose my memory."
When asked how she arrived at this decision, she calmly replied, "I'd rather see where I'm going than remember where I've been." (7)
I think she made a wise decision. The healthy reason for remembering the past is to get help making wise decisions for the future. But what matters is not where we've been, but where we're going from here.
There are some persons in this congregation who need the healing of their memories. There are past hurts that you need to turn over to God. The altar of God is a place for remembering all that God has done in our behalf. It is also a reminder that the past is past. The Gospel is about new beginnings. God beckons us to hold on to what has been good in the past, but even more importantly, to look to the future at the new thing God can do in our lives.
1. "New gadget can help if one cannot remember" by Anick Jesdanum, The Knoxville News-Sentinel, July 29, 2002, p. C4.
2. Tony Campolo in Ten Great Preachers, edited by Bill Turpie (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2000).
3. Health Communications, Inc., Deerfield Beach, Florida, 1998, p. 227.
4. Elaine Pondant, March 1994, Reader's Digest. Found in Stories for the Family's Heart compiled by Alice Gray (Sisters, OR: Multnomah Publishers, 1998), pp. 189-191.
5. Life, Sept. 1998, p. 18.
6. John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meany (New York: Ballentine Books, 1989), p. 44.
7. Dave Stone, Keeping Your Head above Water (Loveland: Group Publishing, 2002), p. 122.