The Handcuffs of the Past

Dear Family,

A popular song, by Bon Jovi and Jennifer Nettles, is titled, "Who Says you Can't go Back," wrestles with the question of whether or not we can return to our places of origin, the places where we grew up, the places where our narratives began. The song makes it clear that one can go back, in fact it is good to go back, because only in the genesis of our story do people really know us and embrace us as "one of their own." But i challenge that. I dont think we can, nor do i think we should, go back.

Why?

Because the same people who have helped author our narratives, at least the early chapters, have a hard time seeing past those chapters. If we are a good kid, or the son or daughter of someone significant in the community, we will always be that person. Regardless of how far we have grown from that little boy or girl. Not that being good is a bad thing, but living in the shadow of a parent or sibling can not only limit our development as whole persons; it can handcuff our effectiveness as an adult. Going back always brings back those labels, those memories, and those stories.

And that's if the stories are positive. What happens if you are the dark sheep, the lost boy or girl? How hard is it to shake that reputation? How easily do people "forget" what you have done in the past? If you were a trouble maker in high school, even though you go away and change the world for the greater good, when you come "home" often times the people still see the high school kid they had to keep their children away from, and not the saint that has done so much.

That is the danger of going back, and that is the reason Jesus says, "Only in his hometown is a prophet not accepted."

Our hometowns are full of good people with great intentions, but memories are long and hard to erase, which often boxes in young people, for good. Once a saint, always a saint. Once a sinner, well you know.

So why go home? Why go home at all? That's a pressing question and one i dont have an answer to, not now. I can't go back to McPherson and expect the call to pastor; the people know my story too well, and they would never get past the wild eyed 19, 20, or 21 year old who like so many at that age, explored and embraced life. The people, as good and godly and loving as they are, at the McPherson Church of the Brethren, would not embrace me. They know my story, and that story will always remain in the forefronts of their memory, limiting my ability to minister or lead.

This is why people have a hard time going home.

Who cares? Right? Just never go home, right? That's the answer. Or is it? Perhaps the question shouldn't be raised to the leader but the people in the church or hometown. Perhaps it is time to reflect on our inability to forget the stories of persons, especially ones that are dark or disturbing, because our refusal to forget will injure whoever it is we hold the memory of. If we are unable to give all persons, regardless of their past, a clean slate every time they come into our presence, we, like all the other hometowns in the Bible, limit the power of God.

However, if we can, unlike what is normative and acceptable, can erase their past from our memories and help them rewrite a new narrative with us, well then we have emerged from the darkness and stand in the light. And it is in the light, only in the light, that the miraculous power of Jesus is unleashed for all to experience.

In the light or not? Forget the past or not? These are our choices. God is waiting to hear our answers before He sends us His prophets... Amen.

Shalom,
jerry