Memory

My friend Aaron, who just lost his wife after a long battle with cancer, has a very interesting post on the sacramental nature of memory. While most of the post is personal rather than theological (and well worth reading, I might add) I found this nugget to be particularly interesting:

There is a curious moment in John chapter 11. John tells us that Jesus is coming to Lazarus, who is dead. When John says that Lazarus is the brother of Mary and Martha, he takes a moment to say, “this is the same Mary who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped His feet with her hair…” But that doesn’t happen until chapter 12. Obviously, everyone already knows the story, and John is heading them off at the pass so they don’t say, “Hey, isn’t that the same Mary who…” You can see the scene; John sitting with a group of people who want to hear about Jesus. “Tell us again,” they say, “we would hear about Jesus…”


Sometimes we don’t really get that Jesus was tragically taken from His friends. We get too theological, too church-y. His death is an historical fact, a religious doctrine. But the only reason we have a doctrine or a church is because His friends have said for 2000 years, “Do you remember that time He…”