Friday, December 28, 2018

Nostalgia

In 2011, as I traveled to India with a group of colleagues, I often found myself feeling homesick.  At times, I felt trapped.  The noise of the Indian culture was too much for me.  The press of people was a overwhelming.  Sometimes in the massive crowds, I feared becoming separated and lost from our group.  During the two weeks of traveling, I longed to be home again.

The word "nostalgia" comes from a Greek word that literally means to return home.  It is the word for exiles, for travelers, and for first-time church campers.  It is the word that would describe the feelings of patients in a hospital or residents in a nursing home.  The dictionary relates a two-fold meaning:  (1) the state of being homesick and (2) a wistful or excessively sentimental, sometimes abnormal yearning for a return to some past period or irrecoverable condition.  I know how it is to be homesick.  I know well how nostalgia feels.

Frederick Buechner wrote a book as he approach the eighth decade of his life entitled, The Longing for Home: Reflections at Midlife.  In the book he reminisces about the house of his childhood, his maternal grandparents' house, that became his home.  While now long gone, Buechner remembers it clearly.  That image of home continues to beckon to him--the home of his past.   But he also looks forward to another home, the home of which he dreams.  I like the book because it speaks to my soul--my sometimes homesick soul.  It is often easier for me to look back than it is to look forward.  Sometimes my memory is stronger and more vivid than my hope.  That is not necessarily good or helpful. 

While it is important to remember, it is even more important for people to hope.  Yes, our scripture sometimes speaks of a nostalgic longing.  Many of the exilic texts yearn for returning home again.  There is a persistent spiritual longing to be reunited with loved ones and the places that have been foundational in our lives--especially when we feel vulnerable and all alone.   There is a longing for a restoration of the broken places in our lives--for a return to wholeness, for salvation.  There is a longing for God to come home to be with us again.

When I hear the political slogan advanced by our nation's President, "Make America Great Again," the word "again" gets my attention.  It is a word that looks back to another time--sometime in our country's history.  It does not specify, however, when that time or period actually was.  Who was the President when America was great?  What were the social and cultural hallmarks of such greatness?  What was the economy like when we were great before?  Were we at war or living in peace?  Were our policies connecting us with others around the globe or driving us into a deep isolationism?  Did we value our unity or dwell on our differences?  Perhaps those who wear the red caps and attend the political pep rallies today are folks who feel like exiles, who experience a deep longing, who are trying to find some security and stability amid their nostalgia.  Perhaps they too are longing for home.

I also know that nostalgia can be, as the dictionary defines it, an "abnormal yearning" to return to some imagined time that cannot be recovered or may never have existed in the first place.  I am often reminded that the great times in my life and ministry may not have been as grand as I remember them now.  It is healthier to be oriented to the future than preoccupied with the past.  Hope is promised.  Resurrection is more than restoration; it is an invitation to experience God's new thing, God's new creation.  New life is promised.  The future is not to be feared because it is where God meets us in an even closer way than today.  The future holds our home.  It is where all will be revealed, where justice, peace, and love are eternally present.  This is home!  This is the home for which I yearn.  A good life is not only about history and heritage . . . it is always about hope.

Our God, our help in ages past, 
Our hope for years to come. 
 Be Thou our guard while troubles last, 
And our eternal home.  
Amen.

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