I tucked a memory away into my heart, thinking I would bring it out often and re-live again the days so dear. Along with the memory of a dear face, I tucked memories of a personality, of loving ways, of all the little things that make a person dear. But I found memory to be a strange paradox that cut the heart like a sharp-edged knife, yet was very sweet. I longed for the day when memory would be less sharp, yet feared lest I lose the closeness of a loved one taken from our sight.
The years have passed; time has healed the dreadful hurt and the memories tucked away so carefully are still there, but with the passing of days they wander in and out of my mind with less frequency than before. But still they are free to wander and have become like a passing breeze that slips in and out of the mind at the mere mention of a word, the glimpse of a face, the sound of a voice, or the memory of a sight shared.
How wonderful a thing is our memory. How good it was of God to give us this faculty to use. How much pleasure we derive from the old scrapbook filled with memories, or the snapshot album of treasures irreplaceable.
Jesus very definitely pointed out the place of memory in our worship of Him. When He sat at the table with His disciples just before He was to journey into that garden and drink the cup of the world’s sorrow and sins, paying the price to redeem us back to God, Jesus instituted the Lord’s Supper, and said, “this do in remembrance of me.”
I have in my heart a memory book which concerns only One, and that is the Lover of my soul – Jesus Christ. He has asked that I sit at the Communion Table with Him; that while there, I remember His goodness, His sacrifice for me. I’m afraid that often our coming to the Communion Table is a matter of a duty to be performed – a ritual of the church, when Christ would have us come with reverence, with a feeling of entering hallowed ground.
He knew how prone our minds were to let slip the most precious memories; to allow the former treasured thoughts to sneak into the dark recesses of our minds to be brought to the foreground less and less as the busy days pass by. And he asked that when we come to the Communion Table, we do so “in remembrance.”
Can we do less than honor our Lord in this manner?
(This article, originally titled, “This Do In Remembrance,” was originally published in The Foursquare Magazine in 1958.)