Philippians 3:12-13 Not
that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press
on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Beloved, I do
not consider that I have made it my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting
what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead.
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Graham Greene was a great English novelist, and among the many
wonderful books he wrote was a little story called Monsignor Quixote. It’s about a priest who is traveling with a
companion with whom he does not always agree. They have very different beliefs and somewhat
different values, and after a night of heated disagreement, his companion comes
to the priest sheepishly, somewhat apologetically, about last night. Father Quixote says he has no idea what he is
concerned about, for he hasn’t any recollection of whatever they discussed the
night before. “I am trained to forget
what I am told,” he says. Even when it’s
not in the confessional? “It’s much
easier for a priest to treat everything as a confession. I make a habit of never repeating anything to
anyone – even to myself, if possible.”
Most people, including his bishop, seem to find Father Quixote
to be rather simple – simpleminded. You
know, not too bright. He certainly is
unsophisticated, having lived in the same poor village his whole life, except
for the time he attended seminary.
I don’t believe I know anyone who makes a practice of
forgetting. Most of us are preoccupied,
even obsessed with remembering. When we are
younger remembering is easier – but the bar is set pretty high, with all the
things we are expected to learn. As we
get older the expectations are lower, which is a good thing. Our ability to remember things is
increasingly challenged, as our mental filing cabinets get overly full and
disorganized.
Last week as we began our series on New Beginnings we focused on
remembering – a worthy goal, I’m sure you agree. Remember the successes, and even remember the
failures for the sake of knowing what we did wrong and trying to avoid that
particular wrong in the future.
Remembering where we have been, with hearts of gratitude, will surely
help us determine where we are going. But
is there also a place, as we move forward, for forgetting?
The Apostle Paul seems to think so. In his letter to the Philippian church he
speaks of forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead. One thing we should know about this: it was probably one of the last letters Paul
wrote. This was a letter written late in
his life. There was a great deal behind
him, which he was choosing to forget for the sake of what lies ahead.
For everything we remember there is also a way in which we would
be better off to forget it. Allow me to
suggest three things.
Forgetting
the ways in which we were wronged. It is a temptation to
remember every slight, every offense, every abuse we have suffered. Some of us are very good at holding
grudges. We seem to think remembering
these things will somehow bring balance to the universe – or at least, maybe,
protect us from ever suffering such an insult again. There’s that old saying: fool me once, shame
on you; fool me twice, shame on me.
And it is not altogether wrong that we should remember the
offenses, for the sake of being aware of how we may be hurt. Jesus advised his disciples to be wise as
serpents and innocent as doves when he sent them out into the world. Be wise to the sinfulness of the world in
which we live, and the ways we may be hurt.
But at the same time, remember what is good and pure and worthy of our
time and effort. It is too easy for
thoughts of past wrongs to poison our minds and hearts. To the extent that you are able, forget the
wrongs of the past. It will free you to
live in the present and move into the future.
I always remembered those words of Monsignor Quixote more than
anything else in the story, because it explains so much about the Father – why
he walks around so sublimely happy so much of the time! Happy are those who don’t remember the ways
they have been slighted, cheated, or offended by others, for they shall be
content. They shall have the gift of
living in the moment.
Forget the ways in which you have been wronged and be at peace.
Forget, also,
the way things are supposed to be. We all know how things are supposed
to be, and this will cause us more grief than we care to deal with. More arguments are caused by people who know
how things are supposed to go than anyone or anything else. I haven’t actually researched this, but I’m
saying it anyway because it feels true.
I don’t think I need to remind you of the seven most exalted
words in the life of the church: We’ve never done it that way before. Or its close cousin: This is
how we’ve always done it. I would
bet that every one of us has said these words at least once. And while it can sometimes be helpful to know
how we have always done it before – especially for a new pastor trying to
figure things out – it’s also a way of closing off imagination, conversation,
even possibility. The problem with doing
things the way they are supposed to be done is that things actually change. The
world changes – everything in it changes.
And the truth is we don’t know how the Spirit will be at work in our
lives; we don’t know what God has in store for us. When you think you know how things are
supposed to happen, you close your mind to the possibility of how things might
unfold.
Forget how things are supposed to be, and look for the way
things are.
Finally,
let’s forget our successes. I know what you are
thinking. Forget our successes? Why in the name of all that is good would we
want to do that? This can be a harder
thing to make sense of.
Last week we talked about remembering that we have been through
hard times in the past, that we have weathered storms and survived to tell the
tales. Remembering can help us to
believe that the hardships we are experiencing will pass. Remembering can give us assurance that
because we have made our way through storms in the past we can make our way
through it again. Remembering the past
can give us strength for the present and hope for the future.
While all that is true, remembering can also get in the
way. I used to work at a church that was
seeing a drop-off in attendance, especially among younger people. We were having a hard time getting youth
involved in the church, and there was some growing anxiety about the
situation. We weren’t just sitting
around doing nothing – we were trying to do faithful ministry for all ages, but
not seeing a lot of results. And I began
to notice something happening. I was
hearing the same sentiment expressed by many people: If we could just have SALT again!
SALT was the name of a youth choir that had been active in this
church about 20 years earlier. SALT was
a great program. The choir had attracted
youth from all over the community – not just church members. They had traveled
all over the region, bringing the good news in song and bringing fame to
themselves and the church. SALT had been
a phenomenal success – at least as it lived in people’s memories. And the darker our current situation looked,
the brighter SALT shone in people’s memories. “If we could just have SALT again” became a
sort of mantra.
But we would never have it again. It was a different time in the church and our
culture. We could have hired a director
and designated some funds and resurrected the name, but we still would not have
had SALT again.
Sometimes we need to forget the things of the past for the sake
of living – really living.
Recently, I heard someone say, “It seems like the more I let go
of, the more I get.” And I have been
considering just how true that might be.
We spend so much of our time and energy in the past, holding on to good
memories we wish to return to, or bad memories we wish to protect ourselves from
or even avenge ourselves for. We spend
too much effort trying to maintain control of things, keeping them the way we
like and feel comfortable with.
Imagine all these things as stones you are holding in your
hands. They’re attractive stones, sure, and
they seem worthy of our efforts to hold on to them. But one day you might get a glimpse of a
stone of such beauty as you haven’t seen before – just a brief glimpse, really,
because you are mostly preoccupied with keeping your grip on the stones in your
hands. But when you happen to glance up
and see this new stone, you immediately know that it is worthy of taking hold
of. Yet, you can’t. Your hands are too full already.
Sometimes you need to let go for the sake of something
better. As we begin a new year, let us
consider forgetting those things that lie behind and strain forward for the
sake of what Christ is opening before us.
1 comment:
Thanks for the lovely thoughts.
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