Remembering and Anticipating

She sat in the pew absorbing the peace of the place before people started filing in for the worship service.  I saw her there and went back to speak to her.  I commented that she had seen a lot of change over the decades.  She was in her late 70’s and had been attending the church for nearly 60 years.

She smiled and said, yes; she had seen a lot of change.  She commented that she sometimes missed some things from the past.  I asked her what she missed.

She reminisced about how the ushers used to wear morning coats; she always like that.  She talked about the limousines idling along the street.  The deacons used to take the waiting chauffeurs hot coffee in the winter.  This was a glimpse into another world for her.

She quickly assured me that she still loved the church.  She said all the changes that had been made were good and necessary.

In her youth the church had been quite large and counted some wealthy, celebrated members among its ranks.  The long-term pastor was well know within the city and throughout the denomination and broader Baptist family.  The old imposing Romanesque sanctuary, which burned in 1972, was a landmark in that part of the city.  Now the congregation worshipped in the original sanctuary, more modest but quite adequate for our needs.

As the neighborhood began to become racially integrated in the early 60’s, so did the congregation.  By my arrival, the church was predominately African American.

She concluded her reminiscing with a smile of contentment and reiterated that she still loved the church; it was just the way it should be, she said.

Michael K. Girlinghouse (Embracing God’s Future without Forgetting the Past—A Conversation about Loss, Grief, and Nostalgia in Congregational Life) draws a distinction between yearning and nostalgia. Girlinghouse defines yearning as “obsessive rumination and a fixation on the past that paralyzes the mourner and makes it difficult to think about the future” (p. 104).  Congregations can yearn for a particular time in the past, a beloved pastor or program.  Pastors can also yearn for a previous church or period of ministry that was rewarding and life giving.  Yearning congregations and ministers try to recreate what they once had.  Often what they are yearning for is the web of relationships and people who filled their lives in that period.  This exercise is sometimes based on fantasies that have little basis in the past reality.  The congregation is prone to turn inward, disengage from the community, and distance themselves from the denomination (p. 105).

 Nostalgic reflection, on the other hand, “can help us see that while much has been lost, the core of who the congregation is remains” (p. 165).   We come to a deeper appreciation of the strengths of our past, which prepares us for the future. 

Nostalgia can open us up to that great cloud of witnesses the writer of Hebrews describes and help us draw from their example as we contemplate our future (p. 36).  Nostalgic memories can remind us of how our forebears adapted to changed realities and help us develop a sense of continuity with the past.  The most nostalgic memory in every congregation should be the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ (p. 143-144).

Nostalgia is not about trying to reestablish or preserve the past.  Rather, is it about learning from and giving thanks for our past, which steels us to embrace the future with courage.  Nostalgia coupled with faith does not dishearten us; it makes us brave and bold.

That woman in my congregation did not want the past back.  She was thankful for it but was game for the next new thing God was going to do in us and through us.

I led worship that day heartened by the memory of all God had done in that place and anticipating the next thing God was going to do among us.

Jim Kelsey
Executive Minister—American Baptist Churches of New York State