A few years ago my wife Deborah and I attended a family funeral. As is typical in the south, many people brought food to the family’s home. While we were still on the way down east, Deborah called a cousin and learned that Aunt Evelyn had brought one of her “famous” lemon meringue pies. Deborah immediately told that cousin to make sure that some of that pie was “laid back” and saved for her. It’s a long trip to eastern North Carolina and I heard a lot about that pie on the way. So many of her other cousins, as she frequently called them to make sure her piece was safe. After the funeral we went to the family’s home for a meal and Deborah got her pie. Actually, all of us had some - there was plenty. The pie was good, but as one of the other “cousins-in-law” and I agreed, it wasn’t “all that.” We also decided that nostalgia must be what made all these now 50-something cousins lavish such praise on a good but not great lemon meringue pie.
My friend the Rev. John Fairless is a Congregationalist minister in Florida. He is originally from the west Tennessee town of Martin, and he recently posted on his Facebook page that he was in “the” barbecue joint in his hometown. He also put up pictures of his plate. After saying he had eaten and enjoyed barbecue all over the south, he opined “But I gotta say, I know I'm home when I get a taste of some good old, hickorysmoked, pulled pork BBQ in west Tennessee!” In a very few minutes, he had 25 likes, and more to the point of this reflection, a lot of folks from Martin chiming in about how great west Tennessee BBQ is, and how much better it is than the BBQ anywhere else in the world. Nostalgia again, I think. I’ve eaten barbecue in Memphis and other places in west Tennessee. It’s good. But Wilbur’s in Goldsboro, NC is better; to me.
There’s nothing wrong with nostalgia, with remembering things from the past with fondness. A problem arises when our affection for the past prevents us from living effectively in the present, or preparing wisely for the future. These are not easy words for me to write. I like the past, a lot. I read massive tomes of obscure church history for pleasure. I picked a hairstyle, and a beard cut, in 1982 - and I have stuck with them for forty years. But I have had to learn to know the difference between something that’s good because it’s classic with enduring value; and something I like just because it’s old, and familiar, and makes me feel safe.
Pastor Fairless often says to me that Dr. Liston Mills of Vanderbilt Divinity School frequently reminded his students that all religious questions boil down to one basic issue: “Can God be trusted?” for if we cannot completely rely on God, it is wise to stay in the safe zone of tried and true ways of doing things. But if God can be trusted, then it is important for us to raise up our heads and look around, to see what new “Promised Land” God is calling us to occupy, what new mission and ministry God has for us to explore, what new ideas God is dangling in front of our faces, what new pilgrimage of faith we are invited to step out on. My core Christian belief is that God can be trusted to lead, guide, and provide for us. And I am certain that God’s provisions on our journey will be at least as good as Aunt Evelyn’s lemon meringue pie or Wilbur’s Eastern North Carolina barbecue and hushpuppies - probably better.
Peace, Delmer