A New Way to Remember
When we think of the word ‘Remember,’ we tend to think of an intellectual recalling. Remembering is based on whether we can locate a memory in our minds. The action is a matter of brain function.
But when we lean into the Biblical understanding of remember, zakar is the Hebrew word, we are invited into a way of life rather than just mental recall. Zakar includes both a recalling as well as the actions that result from remembering.
For example, in Exodus 20:8, it says, “Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.” Remembering isn’t completed in the mind, but in the actions that result from the awareness of setting this day aside as different. There are a number of times within the Biblical narrative where it says that God will remember our sins no more. Zakar is really helpful here, because it’s not that the Divine takes a magic eraser to the Divine’s mind, rather God takes the action to forgive, so the sins have been covered over and will not be held against us. The remembering is found in God’s faithfulness to forgive.
Which is the invitation and challenge for us, in this season of Lent. We take the time and space and practice to reflect on our lives. Where are we functioning in health and where are we lopsided or adrift? Is there anything or anyone that needs to be forgiven, because the pain which has been inflicted or the relationship itself is causing a significant limp?
When we remember the pain or the person, it isn’t to wallow in it or figure out how to wallop them, rather with a deeper inner strength, we choose to act with forgiveness. And this gets at the Biblical idea of forgetting, which often means to ignore or disregard, as we no longer regard the offense against us. And if there is a toxic relationship, one in which strong boundaries need to be put in place, then this broader understanding of remembering and forgetting is crucial. In remembering, we don’t simply swim in bitterness and brokenness, we act to put up strong boundaries so that we don’t drown in the toxicity.
One more picture. When I remember what it was like growing up without a dad, I don’t merely sit on the sidelines in sadness. No, in a newfound strength I live forward in being the dad my three sons need me to be. Sometimes that means working from what I didn’t have, and sometimes it’s being for them what I can clearly see they need. Yes, there needs to be a lot of forgiveness to go around within this. Of course, it’s called life.
Zakar acts as a catapult for a fresh future, rather than drowning in depression of the past.
