Remembrance

There's a lot of remembrance at this time of year. October 31 is the date Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to the door of the church at Wittenburg, and so we remember the start of the Reformation on Halloween, or the closest Sunday. Of course, "Halloween" means "Hallow's eve," or the day before All Saints' (Hallowed persons') Day. On All Saints' Day we remember those who have died in the Lord before us. We believe that "the work begun in their baptism is complete," that is, that they are now sanctified, and so they are saints. We have some important secular remembrances as well: Veterans' Day, Pearl Harbor Day, etc. We also pause at Thanksgiving to remember to give thanks for all our blessings.

Memory and the act of remembering is an important part of our identity. Narrative therapists will say that our identity is best expressed in the language of narrative. That means the stories we tell about ourselves are what makes up our identity. Remembering is an important part of telling those stories, and retelling those stories helps us remember.

In the church where I grew up, my parents had been youth group advisors from when they were in college. While they were youth group advisors, the youth of the church started a live nativity scene, which continued almost until the church itself had to close in 2019. I didn't need to tell stories about the nativity scene because it was a part of my current life; it belonged to the realm of current experience, not just memory. My parents also told stories that were purely memory. There was a youth band that played rock-and-roll music. I don't remember the name of the band, but I remember my dad saying they drove their band gear around in an auctioned off hearse and thought that was kinda cool. When people returned to our church to celebrate homecoming, I would hear these stories and stories like them not from my parents, but from the people who used to be kids in my parents' youth group. These stories were remembered fondly as we ate the big homecoming potluck dinner; they were part of the identity of the congregation. Now for me, the potluck dinners themselves belong to the realm of memory and are part of my identity.

Memory is more than just a recall of experience; it's also meaning and guidance. I remember the troop committee of my Scout troop from when I was in Boy Scouts. At one Board of Review, they asked me about whether the troop committee should intervene in the election of the Senior Patrol Leader. I said that in the world beyond the troop there is no council of wise men like themselves to benevolently second guess the wisdom of the crowd. Even so, there actually IS a council of benevolent wise men to help me with my decisions. It is THEM. I carry that troop committee around with me in my memories. Sociologists call this a "reference group." I refer to my memory of them when facing decisions and try to understand whether they would approve or think of other options. My memory is not just recalled experience; I interpret those memories to give them meaning, and in turn those stories give my life meaning which gives me guidance.

Ritual also produces stories and meaning. I remember that when I was young, children in the Southern Presbyterian Church were not allowed to take communion until after confirmation, but parents could mediate the sacrament. At the time, the women of the church made communion crackers out of an unleavened dough, and they cut it at obtuse angles with a two-wheeled pastry cutter to make lozenge-shaped crackers. Mom would break off one of those acute corners of the cracker and give it to me, and the other acute corner to give it to my sister, and mom would take the fat middle of the cracker. We would also get three sips out of the little communion cup. This memory adds depth of meaning to the sacrament every time I take communion.

Of course, Jesus started the ritual of the Lord's Supper with the mandate, "Do this in remembrance of me." When we take communion, we remember that Jesus instituted that sacrament for us, but more than that, we remember the stories of Jesus' life and teaching. We remember the act of the Lord's Supper, but we also remember the identity of Jesus' whole self. Because Jesus is the wholly divine son of God and second person of the trinity, that ALSO means we remember ALL the great things God has done. We remember creation and liberation. We remember kings and prophets and nations. We remember law and destruction and exile, but we also remember restoration. We remember that God raised up for us a mighty savior. We remember that Jesus was alive and walked the earth and was tempted in every way as we are, yet without sin. We remember that Jesus walked with us and suffered for us and died for us. We remember that God raised Jesus from the dead. We remember that Jesus even now sits at the right hand of the throne of God and prays for us. We remember that just as God sent Jesus into the world, Jesus sent us into the world with the commandment to love one another, and that Jesus sent the Holy Spirit into the world to be with us, to walk alongside us to comfort us and to empower us as the Church of Christ to be the Body of Christ in the world. All this is the remembrance of Jesus in the ritual that we enact called the Lord's Supper.

The Reformation saw arguments about the presence of Christ in communion. Is the body of Christ really in the bread? Is it "in, with, and under" the bread? Many say that we, aligned with Zwingli and the Swiss Reformation, don't believe the presence of Christ is real in communion, that it is merely symbolic, but I disagree. Through the Holy Spirit, Christ's presence is real and gives us great comfort. Through the gathered community, the presence of the Body of Christ is real. We remember who Christ is in communion, and our memories are stories, and our stories are our identity, so we also remember who WE are in communion. Because we are the Body of Christ, when we remember who WE are, we are at the same time partaking of that ritual in remembrance of who Jesus is.

There's one other remembrance that I'd like to talk about. When Jesus is crucified in Luke, there were two criminals who were crucified with him. One tested Jesus and demanded, "If you are the Messiah, save yourself and us!" The other, chastised the first and said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." It is one thing for us to remember our experiences. It is another thing for us to remember our stories in a way that makes meaning for our lives. It is another thing for us to remember Jesus and HIS identity and all that he did for us and all that he taught us and all that he commanded us ("Love one another" and "do this in remembrance of me."). It is yet another thing for us to remember our identity as the Body of Christ. The story of the second criminal is different from all that.

The thing that's different about the story of the second criminal crucified with Jesus is that it's not about us remembering at all. It's about Jesus remembering. When my church in Atlanta was struggling, I resolved to pray every day from Psalm 74:2, "Remember your congregation which you acquired long ago, which you redeemed to be the tribe of your heritage. Remember Mount Zion, where you came to dwell." I did pray that most days, but sometimes I would wake up tired and busy and I would forget. Eventually I realized how stupid it was for ME to ask GOD to remember, when I couldn't always remember myself. Of COURSE God remembers the people and the congregations that God loves. "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom," asked the second criminal. No matter how forgetful WE are, if Jesus remembers US, then our identity is made sure from beyond our thought and memory. Jesus died for us, was raised for us, sits at the right hand of the throne of God for us, and prays for us. We are the people who are loved and remembered by Jesus.

--Chas