"Remember"

“Remember”

In June of 1982 I convinced my father and my sister to come with me to the Loew’s Jersey at Journal Square to see Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. I was determined to not miss the second big screen adventure of Kirk and Spock and the rest of the crew, and glad to share the experience. (I’m guessing that my mother was grateful to get a few hours of peace and quiet while the three of us were out of the house!)

I loved the movie from the very start – those first familiar notes of the TV theme music – and was swept along by the story of an enemy from the past seeking revenge on Kirk. In the years since, I’ve seen Star Trek II many, many times and have often reflected on its themes of aging and regret, parents (or parental figures) and children, friendship and sacrifice – themes that have become only more meaningful as I’ve grown older. But, right after that first viewing with my father and sister, I could really only think about one thing (I’m not sure if a 38 year-old movie needs a spoiler alert but consider yourself warned):

Spock was dead.

The most beloved Star Trek character of them all died a noble death, dying to save the ship, to save the lives of his friends.

After we left the theater, I remember walking back to the car feeling very sad about Spock’s death. I enjoyed the movie but this was pretty shocking, especially for someone who had not yet experienced the death of a loved one. As the three of us were talking about the movie, my father said something like, “Well, they did leave the door open if they want to bring him back.” I must have looked puzzled. My father reminded me that just before Spock took the steps that led to his death, he placed his hand on the side of Dr. McCoy’s face and said, “Remember.” It was just a few seconds and in all the excitement I must have missed it or not realized what it could possibly mean. As it turned out, my father was right. But, although we would indeed see Spock again, his death scene always reminds me of the power of memory.

“Remember.”

Memory is powerful. It can haunt us, reminding us of old wounds or mistakes made or roads not taken.

Memory can be used to intimidate people. In recent weeks, there has been a debate about statues honoring Confederate leaders and soldiers that can be found in many Southern (and, amazingly enough) even some Northern communities. Most of these statues and memorials were erected decades after the Civil War, in an attempt by white people to remember their version of the past and honor their dead, but also to intimidate and reassert control over formerly enslaved people and their descendants, part of the decades-long effort to take away the rights and dignity of Black people.

Memory can also inspire us. Over the past week, I’ve been moved by the tributes to Representative John Lewis. I’m in awe of his courage and persistence, from Bloody Sunday on a bridge in Selma in 1965 to serving as the “Conscience of the U.S. Congress” for the past few decades. One thing I didn’t know is that for several years he attended Comic-Con and cosplayed not as some fictional superhero but as his younger self! Wearing the same kind of raincoat and carrying the same kind of backpack as he did in Selma, he led the children in a march around the convention center, using memory to teach that superpowers are not needed for heroism. John Lewis got into “good trouble” his whole life and now his memory inspires us to believe in our own God-given ability to stand up for justice and truth.

“Remember.”  

The power of memory should not be news for us Christians. We are people of memory. We recall and maybe even imitate the examples of holy women and men from the past. Most of all, our central act of community and worship is an act of memory, remembering the Last Supper of Jesus and his closest followers and friends. Our gathering at the Lord’s Table (yes, even on Facebook) is such a deep and profound act of remembering that the usual boundaries between past, present, and future get broken down. At the Lord’s Table the curtain between heaven and earth is parted and Jesus is as present with his friends in Jersey City today as he was with his friends in Jerusalem long ago.

These are hard days, for sure. And, unfortunately, I am certain that there are more difficult days ahead. So, it’s especially important to remember our good times, like the afternoon I spent watching Star Trek II with my father and sister. It’s important that we remember our holy history, remembering the ways that God has guided us through other tough times. It’s important that we remember that God calls us in our own day to make some good trouble, doing our part to resist and defeat injustice and make earth a little more like heaven. It’s important to remember that it’s natural to be afraid when disease, oppression, and hatred are on the loose, but life, justice, and love will get the last word. It’s important to remember that we get a glimpse of that last word at the Lord’s Table, when we remember and encounter Jesus, who always leads us from death into new life.

“Remember.”