Christmas is a celebration of nostalgia . . . and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of “White Christmas” or “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” bouncing inside my head.
I don’t want to long for the “better” time of the past — a time more imagined than real. Down with nostalgia but up with memories.
I’m not the only one with a dose of nostalgia. When troubles hit the Israelites on the route to the promised land they fell back to nostalgia: “And the whole congregation of Israel grumbled against Moses and Aaron. . . . and said to them, “Would that we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt when we sat by the meat pots and ate bread to the full. . .. (Exodus 16:2,3).”
The people of Israel wistfully looked back to the memory of full stomachs forgetting the forced slavery, the genocide against their children, and their unrealistic work demands. This is nostalgia at its best, fantasizing the past. What is God’s counter to nostalgia? Over and over He challenges us to remember (Deut 4:10,; 5:15); to recall again and again how He has delivered and provided for us. The Lord wants me to choose memories over nostalgia.
Why memories? Memories are more than a wistful look backwards; memories are detailed, descriptive sensory pictures, and stories of events in our lives. Memories haunt our waking hours — both good and bad ones. The gospel birth narratives are full of memories and Jesus’ mother Mary teaches us what to do with them.
Within a few short weeks this teenage mom’s life was soaked with new memories. First, she had to flee her hometown because of a despotic rule by an occupying force. Then she gave birth in some very unpleasant conditions. Then a group of Persian royalty show up and give gifts worthy of a king. After the Persians some bedraggled shepherds showed up at the door telling a story of an angelic choir. Then she and her husband are commended to leave through a dream! After leaving Mary hears about a mass killing taking place in her son’s birthplace. I don’t think she looked back nostalgically at these events, but Mary remembered them. What does she do with these memories?
Mary chooses to remember — “treasur[ing] all these things, pondering them in her heart” (Luke 2:19). Author Jan Johnson describes this “treasuring” of words and events as how one “stores treasures in a scrapbook that allows you to pore over them for years to come.” Mary built memories not nostalgic moments.
The memories that Mary scrapbooked are more than a nostalgic look backwards; they are sensory reminders that speak to the work and presence of God. We can inhabit or live in our memories — experiencing again the story behind them — smelling, hearing, seeing, feeling, and tasting what had happened. Let me suggest three types of memories worthy of scrapbooking — memories of pleasure, friendship, and a word from God.
The gospel birth narratives are a multi-sensory experience. Angels sang in unison, a dark night sky blazed with light, frankincense, incense, and myrrh were touched and smelt, and the odor of men who spent all their waking hours with sheep filled Joseph’s house. All these pleasures and sensations were scrapbooked by Mary.
C.S. Lewis observes that “the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never visited” are all echoes of eternity’s reality. When I savor the coffee taste of tiramisu, enjoy the touch of my dog’s velvety ears, or pause to see a full moon surrounded by clouds, pleasure happens. I’m reminded of God’s creation; they’re echoes of a joy we will soon experience. Small memories of pleasure echo the goodness of God, bringing light into dark times.
Mary scrapbooked the people — Persian astrologers and Jewish shepherds — who came to visit her son. In a recent gratitude moment, I listed the people I’m eternally grateful for knowing. They ranged from a former boss, a roommate, friends from a small group, Peggy, my sons, my daughter-in-law . . . the list could go on. I want to remember these men and women — how they gave joy, spiritual enrichment, and unconditional love. They are “echoes” of eternity; they give a taste of the friendships we will have in the heavenly places.
Treasuring God’s words to me is a third memory. Believers in the early church spoke of receiving a “word” from the Lord. This “word” was not a theological explanation, good advice, nor a point in an argument. This word came from a relationship, a divinely inspired word which would give life to another when received.
I have memories of God giving me life in a “word” through His word — the Bible. When faced with an unexpected tragedy the word came through Psalm 46:1, when stepping out in faith the word came through Matthew 10:10, when faced with a challenge of sin the word came through Matthew 10:15. Many times I memorized these words from God.
God has also given me a word through friends and teachers; the word from these relationships gave me life at the moment I needed it the most. I want to remember and ponder these words, scrapbooking them to give light to my life.
When we save our memories as pictures in a scrapbook, we can review them again and again — living in that moment with all our senses engaged — drawing near to God’s presence as He drew near to us. Pleasure, friends, and a word draw us to the Lord of Christmas. Join me this holiday season as I focus on memories and not cultural nostalgia. May we all learn from Mary’s example. Merry Christmas!
