no need to think about what was done before.
Look, I am doing something new,
now it emerges; can you not see it?’
(Isaiah 43:18-19)
Depending on the particular focus of our attention, dwelling on the past will do one of three things; it will teach us and help to liberate us, immobilize and confine us, or place us in a indeterminate state where our attention tips the balance neither one way nor the other. Just as the Israelites had found it much easier to think back to their crossing of the sea and the destruction of the pursuing Egyptian army than to appreciate what God was doing for them in the present, we can wallow in memories of past events in our own lives rather than being open to the reality and the demands of today. We all have markers we have set beside our path when something significant has occurred, and some of these may well have become major milestones for us: Whether they are life changing moments or long running situations, we may feel unable to lay them aside. Good or bad, they may have become anchored within us as seemingly undeniable parts of the persons we have since become. We could say that they have made a home in us.
It is one thing when such unforgettable fixed points seem to guide us and encourage us to go forward in ways which bring increasing levels of peace and integrity, but quite another when they trap us in the continuing grasp of past pains, fears, failures, or abuses. We only need to endure a single experience of being abused (in any way), of being falsely accused, of being hated, of being deserted, of having our dreams shattered, of being publicly shamed, or of falling deeply into sinful behaviour for which we are unable to forgive ourselves, to realize that God is not the only visitor with an ability to find a home within our hearts and minds.
Our memories of such things can take up an inordinate amount of time and energy by their continual presence and by their tendency to block all attempts to leave them behind. They do not readily share our inner space with the living and transforming presence of Goodness; the two do not occupy separate niches while allowing each other to go their own way; each seeks to fill us completely. The one would hold us in the grip of memories and their subsequent debilitating and immobilizing effects, thus preventing us from opening ourselves to the changes God wants to work in us; the other would heal, strengthen and enable us through the gift of freedom: through freeing us from the heavy burdens we have been carrying for so long.
“Come to me, all you who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)
So said Jesus. The old covenant was built on ‘the Law’ and the Jews were overburdened by the many details it contained and by the observances needed to fulfil its requirements. Jesus had come to change all that. Following Him is easy, and once we have truly committed ourselves to Him, we will find our own burdens – whatever form they may have taken – slipping from our shoulders until they are eventually laid aside.
But these memories, taking up so much of our time and mental energy, and forming part of the structure upon which we have built our self-image and our assessment of our own worth, may not be of hardships, regrets and loss; they may indeed be of the very worst, but may also include what we regard as the very best of experiences. Even those which have since proved themselves to have been grace-filled times – steering us, or moving us, or lifting us in whatever way it may have been – can be held onto as a powerful memory rather than being left behind through the living of the gifts received in those moments. It is the gift which is powerful, and it is the living of the gift (our making appropriate use of it) which brings that power to bear in our own lives and in the lives of others.
Memories can have a powerful hold over us but in themselves they have no power at all. We are incapable of overriding their influence by our own efforts, but freedom will come when we no longer stand before them alone: when we have allowed our Liberator to make His home in us.
“We ought ... with a wise discretion, to analyse the thoughts which arise in our hearts, tracking out their origin and cause and author in the first instance, that we may be able to consider how we ought to yield ourselves to them ...” (John Cassian. Conferences 1:20)
‘... it matters that we know that the power of defeat is in our own hearts, and that our disbelieving self, not circumstances, is the enemy. ... it matters that we give power to our dreams, arms and legs to our love, wings to our wonder, so that they will become the significant part of us.’ (Paula D’Arcy. Where The Wind Begins.)
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