Remember (Part II) - Meaning in Our Memories

A Word from the Author Before Reading

This article is Part 2 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.

Part I of this article may be found here.

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   Both the wisdom and accounting of events in Sacred Scripture illustrate the value and importance of memory to God Himself. Moreover, because God so obviously prizes memory as a gift to us of His very self, we can be certain that memories can be of incredible worth and significance to each one of us as well. Utilizing our memories as “spiritual exercises” for growth may seem foreign, perhaps even unusual to some, but as Augustine’s mother, St. Monica, is known to have said: “Nothing is far from God.” Given that memories – pleasant or otherwise – find their storehouse in our brains (as well as our hearts in that they arouse powerful emotions), a necessary convergence occurs in the use of memory as spiritual exercise between both spirituality and psychology. That said, in order to best understand how we can advance in our spiritual growth, utilizing our memories, we first must understand some elements related to their psychological underpinnings.

Psychology & Memory

   Abiding ever by “the rule of threes,” the first purpose of our memories – psychologically speaking – is for simple cognition. While this one might seem blatantly obvious, many do not connect the processes of learning and thinking to memory. In our popular culture, memories have come to be recognized mostly – almost primarily – as either good or bad and almost never as neutral. However, we are sorely mistaken should we neglect to consider that some things we remember needn’t be exclusively good or bad. Consider all those historical dates, all those algebraic problem-solving steps, all those elements on the periodic table we learned back in high school. These things likely do not evoke cheeriness within us at our recollection of them, but neither do they likely evoke utter revulsion in the ways in which an act of betrayal committed against us might. This is simply because these sorts of memories are neutral. They are examples of the cognitive processes we know as both learning and reasoning. Consider the ways we come to learn anything. We do so by experiencing it taught to us in some way. We memorize information and are expect to recall in via the Socratic Method. Each time we give an answer to just about anything, we are utilizing our memories by recalling previously encountered (and thus, somewhat experienced) information. At the most basic level, then, our own cognitive processes give credence to the importance of memory itself.

   “Defense-mechanisms” form our second psychological underpinning related to memory; and this builds upon cognition as well. Since the dawn of creation, human persons have endeavored to protect ourselves from harm and/or error that will lead to such harm. Naturally, we know that there is a lot bound up within that word, “harm” and that it is certainly not always physical – though it can be. It is true that our memories exist in the first place as a defense mechanism to protect us. When we experience something that harms us (either physically, emotionally, or spiritually), we generally retreat from engaging in the activities, relationships, etc. which caused the harm. Interiorly, we cognitively process the painful experience and “learn-a-lesson” from the outcome. This concept of protection against harm lends itself to another use of memory as well. Also as a defense mechanism, our memories serve as a sometimes valuable means of coping with adversity. We will not always be successful in protecting ourselves from all harmful experiences because some are merely unforeseen or beyond our prevention. In the occasions when we experience an unpreventable harm that causes us some (usually emotional or spiritual) pain, we can turn to our memories to console and to comfort us. Consider the untimely passing of a loved-one or the fallout of a romantic love. When the pain caused by these events threaten to ensnare and entrap us into despair, depression, or melancholy, our memories of the loved-one remain such that we can recall their positive impact upon and presence within our lives. This points us onward in loving remembrance until the day when heavenly reunion renews, restores, and binds us together forever.

   Within positive psychology, there exists both a term and a process known as “meaning-making.” We can attribute much of the origin of such a niche-area to the remarkable work, Man’s Search for Meaning, by the late Austrian psychiatrist and holocaust survivor, Viktor Frankl. Ultimately, “meaning-making” is a process wherein human persons make sense to various significant and impactful life-events. To be sure, this is, in and of itself, both dependent on cognition and is a sort of defense mechanism related to coping. When we seek to “make-meaning” or “find value” in an occurrence or experience we undergo, we are indicating its importance to us. A most common use of “meaning-making” occurs in traumatic or deep loss. Loss of our loved-ones produces a sort of “shock” to our emotional, intellectual, and many times, even physical systems. Our minds, bodies, and spirits cannot distinguish between physical passing of a loved-one and a romantic fallout. It responds to both with palpable grief. Because of the shock to our systems, the intricate make-up of our emotional, intellectual, and spiritual web seeks a way to “hold on” to what has been so suddenly lost until we can more appropriately internalize and deal with the loss. This is what compels so many of us to write letters we may never be able to send to our loved-ones, to write little notes on helium-filled balloons and send them skyward, to dedicate published works to persons who may never read them… all of these are efforts to “make-meaning” that singularly and definitively point to the value and importance of the experiences we had with the person we have lost, however we have done so. These also form the bases of healthy attachments when we can heal somewhat from our losses by “cementing” the importance of the person and/or experience in our lives and still being able to be open to future experiences of positive nature with others. To the extent that we do this, we are healing healthily from the shock to our interior systems.

Spiritual Appraisals of Our Memories

   To this point, we have largely discussed the psychological import and usefulness of memory. But, for those of us who are religiously-convicted and particularly Christian, memories – both good and bad – have an uncanny ability to interconnect themselves to our spiritual lives. None of us can deny occasions, either personal to us or to those we know, wherein in the midst of great tragedy, someone has “blamed God” for it or in great joy has praised God for the blessing. Our memories of both jubilant occasions and tragedies / traumas “dig-in” to the existential natures of our human personhood. This is simple human nature and it is never anything for which we should be ashamed. God knows and loves us even when we struggle to see how and/or why He loves us.

   When we remember our experiences – positive or negative – and such recollections seem to automatically elicit a spiritual response within us, we are engaging – even if unintentionally in a spiritual practice and exercise. This is known as “spiritual reappraisal,” and it typically occurs in – you guessed it – THREE forms. Our memories can shape our appraisal of who God is in relationship to us and/or who we are in relationship to Him.

   To the degree that our reminiscence and recollections arouse joy, tranquility, peace, hopefulness, calm, comfort, happiness, or contentment, we may be inclined to view God as a benevolent Being who, in the experiences we remember, bestows the good of those experiences and their memory upon us as a sign of love, compassion, and care. We know, of course, that there is another side to this coin.

   In some cases (to which I am personally not immune), remembering negative experiences can arouse a concern within us through the view, however misperceived, that God is a Being who punishes. While I theologically rest in the camp which argues that God does not punish any longer because Christ paid for all human sinfulness, some still vehemently believe that God punishes behaviors He does not value. Admittedly, I see this as counterproductive to real spiritual growth and somewhat at-odds with free-will, but for those who are committed to this spiritual reappraisal, there can still be the opportunity for growth. Growth, in this case, comes from a sort of “course-correction,” wherein the believer has the opportunity to introspectively consider areas of their life they believe need changing in order to pacify the Will of God to punish them for their waywardness.

   The third means in which human persons typically spiritually reappraise their relationship with God / His with them is through the lens of omnipotence; that is, God’s all-powerful nature. In these instances, human persons defer to the wholly “Other-ness” of God and instead of ascribing to their relationship with Him / His with them a label of “benevolence” or “punishment,” simply see in their remembered experiences a God of infinite power, capable of doing all things – even those that are beyond human comprehensibility. It is this latter spiritual reappraisal that we will take up now.

Spoiled Goodness

   In Mere Christianity, that great Christian apologist and English writer, C.S. Lewis tells us, “Badness is only spoiled goodness; and there must be something good before it can be spoiled.” I’ve always loved this bit of wisdom from him because it is entirely hopeful; finding even in the bad both a foundation in and hope for returning to goodness. To this point, we have spoken a lot about bad memories – and perhaps rightly so since those often cause us much pain and even spiritual frustration. But, more than mere hope exists even in these bad memories – even in the ones that cause us pain, sorrow, and shame. The hope that there exists is in realizing the foundation in goodness that lies underneath the badness. Christian theology teaches that God is omni-Benevolent (all good & loving). God can never be bad or hateful. This would contradict His own nature and cause Him to cease to be God. He cannot contradict Himself. Therefore, if foundational goodness exists in what is bad, the same God who “makes all things new” (Revelation 21:5) can and will – so long as we offer the bad memories to Him and consciously and intentionally ask Him to do so – restore goodness from even the worst and most painful of our remembered experiences. He will use those bad memories for goodness. As early as the book of Genesis, by means of His own Self-Revelation, God shows Himself to be both “the restorer” and “the renewal” we yearn for and cry out to through our memories. Because of His infinite power as well as His all-good nature, the writer in Genesis proclaims an eternal Truth, noting, “What was meant for evil, God has used instead for good” (50:20).

   In light of this ability on God’s part – and His willing invitation to us to bring Him the painful memories we harbor – we are challenged to engage in perhaps the most beautiful (but perhaps simultaneously the most difficult) of spiritual exercises related to memory. We are challenged, yet called to simply surrender to Love. The great theologian, St. Thomas Aquinas, is known to have written, “Love takes up where knowledge leaves off.” Perhaps we do not understand why we have experienced some of the things we have and thus are left with the haunting memories of them. Perhaps even the good memories of loved-ones lost have somewhat turned from bringing us happiness and now cause us to simply remember their presence we once enjoyed, but for which we now pine. Where our knowledge provides no explanation; where our own memories betray our hopes of understanding… Love arisen and ever alive beckons us, “Place them where I once laid.”

   Now that Jesus Christ is risen and lives forever – making all things new by the life that only Love can give – there is a vacant tomb. The tomb were Love itself once laid is empty and ready to receive the painful memories that restrict us from living in the fullness of life that Jesus’ death and resurrection has already won for us. In this surrender, this voluntary turning over of our painful, sorrowful, and shameful memories to God in Jesus Christ, is a sweetness unlike any other. We are invited by Love & Life – One in the Same – to spiritually “come, see where He laid” (Matt. 28:6) and to notice that He is not still laying there. His tomb is empty; and as such, it is available for us to leave the dead weight of the past there where it belongs!