The Gift of Memory

I recently read a strange, and even haunting, little book. It is not new, published fifteen years ago, but it sometimes takes me a while to catch up! In The Giver, author Lois Lowry depicts the young boy Jonas in a community tightly run by Elders who make the decisions governing all. There are no controversies permitted, virtually no choices to be made, and only the shallowest of feelings are expressed. (Even his adolescent Stirrings are extinguished with specially prescribed drugs.) As each youngster becomes a Twelve, he/she is given an appropriate career assignment chosen by the Elders; Jonas is selected for the prestigious position of Receiver of Memory. As he enters the dramatic and rigorous training, Jonas leaves behind his accustomed world of Sameness and learns for the first time about ordinary things like colors, sunshine, snow, and hills. He also learns about hunger, love, war, and death—things that are hidden from the others who have chosen to live without responsibility. These things would be painful or troubling or prone to lead, as love would, to disorder. Only he, and the Giver who currently holds the collective memories of all the community, have access to the books that describe life in the past, “back and back and back,” and in the place called Elsewhere. To my relief, however, the book ends on a courageous, hopeful note.

So I have been pondering for several days the gift of memory. I certainly would not want to give up the remembered delight of my daughter’s first-formed question as I read to her, “Mama, what is barn?” I want to keep the day I graduated from college (at age 49), and the day I bought my first brand-new car. I want to experience again and again staying at the Grand Canyon in a freezing tent camper, and riding a hot air balloon in Washington, and swimming in the Caribbean. I want to hold on to my family members and friends who are no longer living by keeping them in my memory.

Yes, things have happened that brought pain too; would I really wish to forget them? How would I know how to reach out to others who are in distress? I look back at some moments of self-consciousness and embarrassment; should I forget those? How would I know that I could now laugh and say, “Well, you won’t catch me doing that again?” I remember some inappropriate decisions, a few ill-timed endeavors, some honest but flawed attempts. Those were not fun at all, but now that they are held in my memory-bank, I am better and wiser. I would not want those memories to be stored some place where I did not have access to them. I have no doubt that memory is a gift.

God has memory. Again and again in His Word, God tells His people that He will remember them and His promises to them. Made in His likeness, with the ability to remember, memory is one of the things that guides and strengthens us. “He causes us to remember his wonderful works. How gracious and merciful is our Lord!” (Psalm 111:4)

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Scripture quotation is taken from The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. United States of America. All rights reserved.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com