The eCrozier

This power of memory is vast, my God. It’s a great and infinite mystery. Who has fathomed its depths? – St. Augustine, Confessions, Book 10

Augustine believed our capacity to remember was a profound gift for our souls. After all our central act on the Lord’s Day is taking the bread and cup so we may remember the saving act of Jesus on the cross. And yet, Augustine’s own memory of his life made him a mystery even to himself, because he knew that we humans curate our memories. What do we choose to remember? What do we choose to forget? Are our choices of what we remember conscious or an exercise in self-deception? Augustine wondered about his memory and questioned his own capacity to remember the events of his life faithfully.

As I remember my life, I’m aware that my sin clouds my memory. But, there are some events that are seared into it, even though I don’t remember every detail: The time as a teenager, out of fear and shame, I denied being my father’s son; the time in college when I joined in, rather than stopped, the ugly, public ridicule of an unpopular fraternity brother; or the time as a young adult when I looked the other way as an acquaintance stole candy bars from a convenience store. The shame of each event is still with me even though I have confessed my sins and I know God has forgiven me. This is to say that such powerful memories stay with us as if they only happened yesterday.

Over the 35 years of my ordained ministry I’ve heard stories from female parishioners about the sexual indignities they’ve endured. Some didn’t make them deathly afraid, but those events still contributed to their suffering. Other stories shared with me were beyond indignity. Those were fearful, physical assaults where the man, exercising greater strength, made it clear who had the power. They ranged from a twisting of an arm to full-blown sexual assault. I’ve learned over the years to believe the women. In all my parish and now diocesan experience, I recall only one instance of a false accusation. Every other one was true. The data on false accusations of sexual misconduct or assault bear this out. Such false accusations, it turns out, are as rare as voter fraud.

And yet, most incidents like the ones described above have gone untold (and unreported to law enforcement). And this is where, I believe, Augustine’s complex appreciation of memory comes in. Victims don’t trust their own memories. The behavior perpetrated on them is so reprehensible that they think they must be mistaken. Or, in some women’s minds, they somehow think it’s their fault. And even worse, when their memories are clear, there’s a fear and resignation that those in power, whether ecclesial or political, are incapable of exercising empathy and will shamefully protect their own. Sadly, that has been all too true. The women who overcome such fear, face those in power, and speak the truth about what happened to them leave me in awe of their courage.

Our memories are vast, full of joy, pain, and sometimes fear. We should hold on to each memory, because in doing so, we can lay each one at the foot of the cross so our memories, like our lives, can be redeemed by the wide embrace of Jesus.