Remember (Part I) - The Importance of Memory in Scripture

A Word from the Author Before Reading

This article is Part 1 of a series of 3 concerning 'Memory as a Spiritual Exercise' within Christian Spirituality. For the sake of clarity and 'ease-upon-the-reader,' I have chosen to publish this ideally one full article in three parts. That said, some elements in future articles may allude to or point back to a previous part within this series to which you may wish to refer. Lastly, I dedicate this work, both gratefully and in hope, to the honor of Miss Callie A. Adams - in thanksgiving for the good memories she has contributed to my own life as well as for inspiring my reflection upon this fascinating topic. Should ever she read this, I only hope she will recall the good memories of me.

“Jesus, remember me when You come into Your Kingdom” (Luke 23:42).

   To be forgotten… That is one of my top 3 greatest fears. It’s right up there with losing people I love and most spiders. For me, being forgotten about – especially after I am gone from this life, or for that matter, even from any person’s life – indicates that someone must not care enough even to remember the probably little good there is about me. Memories are a complex thing and the Christian spiritual tradition is everywhere replete with allusions to them. Of course, human persons that we are, we know how powerful memories can be – for good and for ill. The “good ones” possess the abilities to lift our spirits when we are feeling low while the “bad ones”… well… They aren’t called “bad” for no reason at all, are they? Nevertheless, God, in the fullness of Wisdom, willed that His human creation should be able to recall past experiences for a unique reason and purpose. As this article draws on, I will reflect upon three distinct facets relating to the importance of memory in the Christian spiritual life including: 1) Poignant instances of memory in the Gospels, 2) Meaning-making with our memories, and 3) Remembering others. Spirituality, always being a harmony reflective of its Trinitarian inner-workings, is ever-comprised of an interaction between God, ourselves, and others. Each of the three that follow point to these powerful repositories wherefrom we can draw in our own continual journeys towards spiritual growth.

“Memory” in the Gospels

   We are given our best insights into the sorts of attitudes, behaviors, and dispositions God values (as well as those He does not) by His own “Self-Revelation” through Sacred Scripture. To know that God Himself values memories, we need only look at what He said Himself in His own Son, Jesus, about them. Before we take a brief look at three important instances of memory in the life of Jesus, I should note that all three of the Gospel instances I am set to mention occur within what theologians have come to know as “the Paschal Mystery” – this is the Passion (or suffering – of which “The Last Supper and Agony in the Garden are parts), Death, and Resurrection of Jesus. This is wholly significant because, while it can be asserted that the entirety of Jesus’ never-ending life is of paramount importance to our own spiritual lives, it is this “Paschal Mystery” (which we view not as three distinct events, but as one continual event) that is perhaps most significant in terms of our own redemption, salvation, and eternal going-forth. Moreover, the fact that elements of and allusions to memory exist within the “Paschal Mystery” point to the importance and value of this reality to God Himself.

First Illustration: “Do This In Memory of Me”

   At His Last Supper, surrounded by those closest to Him – the Apostles – Jesus took both bread and wine, said a blessing, then broke and distributed the single loaf amongst those gathered, along with a single cup of wine. When doing so, He said, “Do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19; 1 Cor. 11:25). Blessed with Divine Foreknowledge, Jesus already knew that His followers going forth would “sacramentalize” His actions; that is, that Christians would remember Jesus’ actions as He instructed by breaking and sharing bread and wine as “Communion,” “Eucharist,” “Lord’s Supper,” or “Family Meal” as part of our worship and liturgical services. Whatever we choose to call it is largely dependent on what Christian denomination we claim, but all of those differences in labels makes little difference in the ultimate appraisal. By asking His followers to break bread and drink wine that has become His Body and His Blood, He has asked us to do more than simply remember that He exists, but to remember – most importantly – why He exists in the first place. Jesus’ earthly life was always meant to be a sacrificial one. In asking us to break bread and drink wine together as a community of believers, Jesus is asking us to remember that authentic Love always costs something. For God, the Love He has for each one of us cost Him His very Son and Self. Jesus, then, in asking to be remembered in the sharing of a meal is asking us to remember that Love requires sacrifice. After all, before He ever said, “Do this in remembrance of me,” He said, “This is my Body which will be given up for you.” Jesus’ Love for the human race cost Him His life.

   As Christians, we believe that “God is Love” (1 John 4:8) so we glean from Jesus’ own example what authentic Love is as well as what it looks like. When we receive Jesus in the external appearances of bread and wine, we remember that He sacrificed Himself so that we would not become the sacrifices claimed by sin and evil. Jesus became the self-sacrificing corrective to all who oppose God and the example, the definition even – par excellence – of Love itself. Therefore, we should be neither surprised, aggravated, nor afraid as St. John Paul the Great has before instructed, “when love makes demands and requires sacrifice.” When we love others, it requires that we give to them of ourselves. Authentic love requires time, affection, authenticity, sincerity, honesty, compassion, a sense of humor, a forgiving spirit, patience, selflessness, and at times, may ask of us even to risk our own sanity, careers, possessions, or lives. In love, we remember to remember the other person (the beloved). That, in and of itself, requires a sacrifice, however small.

Second Illustration: “Remember me in Your Kingdom”

   The day following Jesus’ Last Supper (what Christians the world over now refer to as Good Friday) sets the stage for our next reflection upon memory from the Gospels. After being violently scourged and crowned with thorns, having carried the heavy cross beams throughout a maddening crowd, Jesus was crucified at a place called Golgotha (Calvary, to some). It was after His crucifixion, but before His ultimate death that this next scene takes place. There atop Golgotha, Jesus was treated as any other common criminal under order of death by Roman authorities. Because the Romans viewed Him as “just another thug” needing to die, He was crucified with other common criminals, namely, two thieves known only to us as Gestas and Dismas. One of the thieves – Gesmaas – hanging on his cross to the left of Jesus made fun of Him and said, “If you really are God like you say you are, why don’t you come down off your cross and take us down with you?” (cf. Luke 23:39, a Contemporary Translation). However, the other thief – Dismas – on Jesus’ right sharply corrected Gestas telling him, “You have no respect for God! This man is innocent beyond all doubt, but we deserve what is happening to us” (cf. Luke 23:40-41, Contemporary). Immediately after this rebuke, Dismas addresses Jesus, saying: “Remember me, Jesus, when you come into your Kingdom!” (cf. Luke 23:42, Contemporary). Now, I know it may seem odd to glean spiritual insight from a thief, but Jesus’ reply to this “repentant thief” indicates to us His own satisfaction with the robber-turned-good’s faith. Jesus tells him: “Today, you will join me in Paradise” (cf. Luke 23:43, Contemporary).

   Jesus pardons Dismas of all His sins because of His faith and the very way in which Dismas asks for forgiveness is by merely asking that this innocent man – Jesus – to simply remember him when He gets to heaven. This example of memory in the Gospels at once illustrates to us both the humility and mercy in and of memory as a spiritual exercise. Human beings that we are, we know all too well that memories have the capabilities to make us feel shame and sorrow as well as to feel comfort and consolation. The “Good Thief,” as some Christian traditions refer to him, asks Jesus to remember him because he was sure that he would never arrive in Paradise. In utter humility, he recognized his sinfulness because of his numerous acts of theft and dared to ask God Himself not for absolution, but simply to be remembered. This alone was his profession of belief and faith letting Jesus know that he (Dismas) believed that Jesus was who He said He was all along. Dismas asks just to be remembered and, by virtue of the humility with which he asks, attains an inheritance in the Resurrection to come. In that follow-up act by Jesus, we see mercy fully illustrated.

   Spiritually speaking, we can (and I would encourage all of us to actively) engage with our memories by reflecting upon them in light of this most poignantly moving account from Luke’s Gospel. On the occasions wherein we recall and ruminate upon memories that are unpleasant to us, we can acknowledge the pain that comes from them and realize that our humanity inevitably involves pain and consequence – whether we understand how and why this is so or not. We are human beings and therefore are vastly imperfect. All is, in fact, not right with this world on this side of eternity. Acknowledging our imperfections and susceptibilities to pain is certainly a humbling thing. Let this be for us an act of humility, while we realize that only God can ever elevate us beyond the lowliness of self. Conversely – and there is no shame in engaging this following spiritual exercise more frequently (in fact, I encourage it so as to hopefully produce cheeriness and alleviate melancholy) – we can, in times wherein we reflect and dwell upon our good, happy, or pleasant memories, view them as “deposits of mercy” given to us by “the God of all comfort who consoles us in our troubles” (2 Cor. 1:3-4). On these blessed occasions, relishing in the good we have experienced, we would do well to greet the constant Presence of God, recognizing good memories as merely foretastes of an endless goodness ahead when we, like the “Good Thief,” one day too will be with Jesus in Paradise.

Third Illustration: “They Remembered His Words”

   According to Jewish custom, three days (Friday counting as one; Saturday as another; and the dawn hours of Sunday as another) had passed since Jesus died and was entombed. On that still very early first day of the week, some of Jesus’ disciples went to His tomb with spices, flowers, and oils they had prepared to leave with His body. Upon arrival, they were perplexed because Jesus’ body was nowhere to be found. Instead, they saw two angels who simply said, “Why are you looking for the living One where the dead would be? He isn’t here; He has been raised! Don’t you remember what He told you in Galilee about how the Son of Man would be tortured, murdered, and buried only to rise again the third day?” (cf. Luke 24:5-7, Contemporary). Now, the next line of Luke’s Gospel is especially telling, precisely because not only for what it says, but how it is formatted in every possible Christian translation of the Bible. The eighth verse in the twenty-fourth chapter of Luke’s Gospel reads as a stand-alone line of text. It simply says: “And they remembered His words.”

   Should we be naïve enough to believe that this formatting is merely coincidental or is of no significance, then perhaps we need to consider the author of Luke’s Gospel? Luke himself was a physician; a profession that was amidst the most learned and trained of the ancient world. Not only could Luke write and write well, he also investigated, interrogated, and acted intentionally in all of his doings – including the composition of his Gospel account. In fact, he wrote it as a historical piece, not as a theology piece like John’s Gospel. But I digress. Those five little words are given an entire stand-alone verse in Luke’s Gospel because it conveys a revelation; an epiphany, if you will. We’re undoubtedly all familiar with moments like this. Many of us know them as “aha-moments;” a time when something previously unclear suddenly becomes clear in the flash of a second. Luke is showing us the “aha-moment” of Jesus’ disciples. He is showing us that they, in fact, suddenly remembered what Jesus had said to them, foretelling of His own “Paschal Mystery.” So, what this example of memory in the Gospels illustrates to us is renewal.

   Whenever we remember or recollect, we are re-experiencing an event. Granted, it isn’t actually reoccurring in actuality, but we are nevertheless reliving it through and within our psyche. It can be reasonably argued that the God of all-goodness who is Love Himself willed that we should be capable of and so have the abilities to remember and recall experiences so that we can have means of protecting ourselves from negative experiences by remembering them so as not to repeat them and/or to avoid similar circumstances in future times. Similarly, we can remember good moments and experiences with those we love so that when we are absent from them – whether for a time or permanently – we will still be able to draw strength from the good we have experienced with them in the past. Spurred on by recollection of those past good experiences, we look forward, with hope, to being reunited with them. In this way, our memories renew us by giving us a “fighting spirit.” They keep us “pressing-on” towards a goal. By remembering our good experiences, we hope to attain to opportunities, situations, and circumstances wherein we will relive and re-experience the good contained in our memories. The desire within us becomes such that we wish to add to the good of those memories by creating more, and this, quite naturally, occurs only through experience. In the fullness of His Love, His power, and His ultimacy, God promises a day wherein He will “make all things new” (Revelation 21:5). Certainly, God will do this in very real terms when He has subsumed all that exists into Himself in the “general Resurrection,” but even now, the King of All Universes makes things new as He refreshes each one of us. Our good memories do this. They bring “back to life,” in a manner-of-speaking, what has passed. Though likely of little consolation to those who pine and long for reunion with lost love (be it to death or emotional distance), the good memories we have and so treasure are, as previously stated, but “foretastes” of the unceasing good that will never pass when God does, indeed, make and bring us to the renewal of all things.

* To Be Continued *