The Need to Forget
The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob, “Indeed, I will never forget any of their deeds. Because of this will not the land quake and everyone who dwells in it mourn?” Amos 8:7-8a NASB
Never forget – For most of the Western world this is the holy night. We go to Mass, sing hymns, and thank God that we’re saved because He sent His son. We’re saved because God forgives and forgets all our misdeeds. Jesus died so we could live, right? And for most of the Western world, this night is the real miracle. After 400 years of arguing (and other less noble actions), the Church finally agreed that this night was the final act of Incarnation. God became a little baby, crying in a manger, in need of diapers. (Sounds very odd when we write it this way, doesn’t it?)
Maybe there’s something else worth considering on this night. Maybe instead of singing, “Silent night, holy night,” we should be listening to the prophets. We would rather watch the Christmas play with its little angels and (misplaced) wise men than contemplate the true condition of God’s creation and our contribution to His agony. Maybe we should be terrified to hear God say, “I will never forget,” rather than celebrating with the shepherds.
“The niggardliness of our moral comprehension, the incapacity to sense the depth of misery caused by our own failures, is a fact which no subterfuge can elude. Our eyes are witness to the callousness and cruelty of man, but our heart tries to obliterate the memories, to calm the nerves, and to silence our conscience. The prophet is a man who feels fiercely. God has thrust a burden upon his soul, and he is bowed and stunned at man’s fierce greed.”[1]
What’s terrifying is that the prophets are Israel’s real religion. They don’t evade any of God’s utter disappointment with men. They are the WYSIWYG spokesmen of our world.
“The prophet seldom tells a story, but casts events. He rarely sings, but castigates. He does more than translate reality into a poetic key: he is a preacher whose purpose is not self-expression or ‘the purgation of emotions,’ but communication. His images must not shine, they must burn.”[2]
“To the prophets, the attributes of God were drives, challenges, commandments, rather than timeless notions detached from His Being. They did not offer an exposition of the nature of God, but rather an exposition of God’s insight into man and His concern for man.”[3]
If Heschel is right, then we have a lot less to celebrate and a lot more to weep over. A year has almost passed since you and I determined to do things differently at the end of 2018. Have you? Have I? Or are we still in the routine rut, playing out our religious games while the world burns from greed, envy, and evil. Have we changed anything? Is there less heartache, less trauma, less indifference because we have been here another year? Did we miss the opportunity to bear another’s burden because we were self-occupied with our own concerns? Oh, and by the way, I’m not asking you these questions. I’m asking me!
This year a friend of mine asked me to pray for him about real family trauma. I said I would. I got busy and I didn’t. This year I spent time with a man I really cared about. I thought we connected. He took his own life a few weeks later. What did I miss? This year my own children grew further apart. Why didn’t I do something about it? This year some innocent children in Jakarta died. I didn’t do enough to prevent that. This year I contributed to commercialism’s insatiable appetite for more. This year I didn’t keep all my promises. This year I did things I don’t want God to remember. This year was like the last, a struggle to survive in a world where I contributed to hurt and pain. Apparently, this year I didn’t learn much about what really matters.
“Reading the words of the prophets is a strain on the emotions, wrenching one’s conscience from the state of suspended animation.”[4]
“I will never forget.” It’s devastating. la nēṣaḥ (Hebrew) is “perpetual, enduring, long-lasting.” God is not going to forget this year of mine, as much as I try to.
Maybe Christmas Eve is a time to be wrenched from the stupor of suspended animation and stop trying to forget.
Topical Index: never forget, prophets, la nēṣaḥ, Amos 8:7-8a
[1] Abraham Heschel, The Prophets (Hendrickson Publishers, 1962), Vol. 1, p. 5.
[2] Ibid., p. 7.
[3] op. cit,, Vol 2, p. 1.
[4] Ibid.
