MY MOM, A VERY SERIOUS AND THOUGHTFUL PERSON, called me a couple of weeks ago, laughing uncontrollably. Since this was completely out of character for her, I asked, “What is going on with you?” She replied, “I am remembering all the stupid things you have done. I can’t believe you are alive.” She kept laughing and started reminding me of every single time I did stupid things. Some were things I didn’t even remember. Things that embarrassed me. Things I had blocked from my mind.
There are things we want to forget. I want to forget the hurtful things I have said and done. I want to forget the shameful things that I have done. I want to forget the harm that has been done to me.
According to authors Huang and Dalton in the Journal of Consumer Research, motivated forgetting (what we call “selective memory”) is a “psychological defense mechanism whereby people cope with threatening and unwanted memories by suppressing them from consciousness.” Basically, this means that we do not want to remember because we do not want to suffer. So, why remember?
In my view, the Bible is all about forgetting and remembering. The story in Joshua 4 is about remembering a painful past, the time of slavery in Egypt and the mighty acts that were needed to deliver the Israelites from that situation. When God commanded the Israelites to set up a memorial in Gilgal, it was because God probably knew the Israelites would forget. And we know they did.
There are things in the history of this country that we want to forget. Things that brought pain and suffering to many people. We want to forget the millions of lives displaced forever by the institution of slavery. It happened so long ago … why remember?
We want to forget about the Japanese-American internment and the thousands of families that were placed in concentration camps. It happened so long ago … why remember?
The Israelites suffered under Egyptian rule and wandered in the wilderness for forty years. It happened so long ago … why remember?
We remember because we are still incarcerating thousands of people because of systemic racism.
Some seminarians and I have visited a detention center in Lumpkin, Georgia. Over a few visits, we spent time with the detainees and have been crushed hearing the stories of our brothers and sisters being discriminated against, treated poorly and abused. We heard stories of people crossing a river and wandering through deserts in search for a promised land. We remember because the Israelites’ story, that seemed it took place so long ago, is our story. Today.
We remember because even that which has been forgotten is part of who we are. By acknowledging our past, even the painful past, we can heal, repent, ask for forgiveness and change our ways. By remembering our past we can change the future but also we can change the present; we can change our attitudes and behaviors so that we start showing hospitality to strangers, even those who are not strangers but feel like strangers in their own land — and in doing so, we may be entertaining angels.
How can we go about remembering? Hebrews 13 tells us: “Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured.” We remember through constant prayer but also through action. We remember by visiting those in prison, by sitting with those who are tortured. And we remember by sharing a meal at the table, set by the One who was imprisoned and tortured in solidarity with all who are imprisoned and tortured.
CLAUDIA AGUILAR RUBALCAVA is associate dean of student services at Columbia Theological Seminary in Decatur, Georgia.
