Managing Memories

The management of memories is surely an art rather than a science. It is certainly a happy hunting ground for counsellors and psychologists. People suffering from post-traumatic stress may need help to confront their demons – nightmares which surface unbidden and cause acute anxiety and agitation. One counsellor may suggest recalling the ugly incident that gave rise to the problem, blow by blow, until it is projected outside of the sufferer’s personality. Another might suggest replacing the negative thoughts with positive ones. There is no simple formula. Skill, intuition, empathy – all may play their part in the art of helping a broken person back to wholeness.

I’ve recently been using some spare time to scan my old paper photographs into the computer. Seeing them again has brought back a whole variety of memories: some pleasurable, some not. The one above is a mixture. It is a self-portrait taken in the days before the craze for “selfies”. I cannot remember the exact date but it was towards the end of my longest and happiest spell in the ministry, in Banbury, Oxfordshire. The over-exposed and out-of-focus image still manages to display contentment in the surroundings which had become familiar and pleasant to me over that time. On the other hand, it may also reveal a hint of sadness. Storm clouds were gathering over the old church denomination where I had been securely cocooned for nearly 15 years. Its national body was poised to take decisions that would lead me into a painful move and an uncertain future outside.

One piece of self-help for managing memories is to realise that my old photos are at my disposal. That photo of mixed memories is one I’ve kept. But I’ve found it useful to shred those images which really jar with me today. It is like taking charge of a bit of my history. I am not shredding people or places; I am only letting go of unfortunate images.

Nobody who does this should be under any illusions about wiping out inconvenient truths. If a painful memory represents something in me that is inconsistent with being a Christian and has not been dealt with, I need to deal with it. Shredding a photograph cannot achieve that for me. The truth will only come back to bite me.

On the other hand, it is at least as likely that I have nothing to blame myself for. The bad memory then comes from someone dumping a feeling of frustration and guilt on to me (some individuals, sadly, have the knack of doing that). The task now is to affirm that that person will no longer dictate my thought life. Of course, that also implies that I must resist all anger and any thought of revenge. True, I may not wish to see the person again, and the thought that this might happen may fill me with apprehension. But we are not Siamese twins, the person and I: I have my life to lead, the other individual has his or hers, and it is down to us to get on with it.

At first I used to worry about whether God ever meant us to leave any memory behind, however painful. There are always lessons to be learnt. But a kind Christian friend reminded me of the words of the apostle Paul. Paul carried into his new-found Christian faith baggage which could induce both pride and guilt: religious purity and murderous fanaticism. Yet by God’s grace he was simply overwhelmed by what Jesus Christ had done for him. All he wanted to do now was follow where his Master had gone before, through death and on to the crown of eternal life.

Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him ... 

One thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you. Only let us hold true to what we have attained. (Philippians 3:8-16 ESV)

Don’t just shred the bad memories past; strain for the prize that lies ahead!