Nostalgia as Idolatry
Somedays I wish I were more like my youngest son. He seems ruthlessly pragmatic about his possessions. If it’s not helpful… if he doesn’t need it anymore, he gets rid of it. Frankly, it bothers me sometimes. He has thrown away old sports uniforms and Ts from running races. When he graduated from the Air Force Academy, I asked that he give us his Parade Dress uniform since he would probably have chucked it. He was planning to give it to us because he knew Laura and I would want it, but if we didn’t… it would have been in a dumpster at USAFA. (His Parade Pants did end up in the dumpster.)
Maybe he gets it from my wife. Every time we’ve made a ministry move, she has used that to downsize, and I’m thankful for that. I’ve occasionally had to protect some items from her trashing—like a blanket celebrating my sports team’s Super Bowl win! How dare she even consider that! 😉 But mostly I’m thankful that we don’t have a garage full of stuff that we don’t need or use.
I’m not like them. I’m very sentimental. I attach emotional meaning and feeling to objects. I’m nostalgic. Those items represent happy times to me. I have a twig on my shelf that my son (the same son!) carved for me when he was probably 7. He’s 26 now. It’s actually not very good. All he did was sharpen both ends and put some scratch marks on it. And I’ve put it on a bookshelf in three offices I’ve had over the years. I cannot throw it away.
When we vacationed with our kids, we took pictures at state signs and National Park signs. My kids endured that—especially the state signs. Why? Because I’m sentimental. I wanted to remember the good times. We took so many that some we took twice because I didn’t remember we’d already gotten that state sign.
Sentimentality, nostalgia, is not necessarily wrong. I’m glad that I remember fun times with my kids as they were growing up. But I think there can be some problems with being too nostalgic. It can drift into sin.
We remember things as better than they were. I guess that’s a blessing from God that our minds tend to sanitize our memories (one of my seminary professors stated it that way). We remember our family as being happier and our growing up years as being less sinful than they were. But even in the best of families, sin intrudes.
How is this sin? Well, it can be an evidence of pride. I don’t need to change. My family doesn’t need to change. My church doesn’t need to change because everything is great the way it is.
Don’t some churches do this? All the best times are in the past. Every little change (two services, how a classroom is used, what stuff is on the platform, when the offering is taken, and etc.). All of those can trigger people wishing things were the way they used to be. Church members can have an emotional attachment with the way things were. It might be why change is so difficult for some. They just want things to stay the way they were. But maybe you remember them as better than they were. Maybe you need to be uncomfortable for your church to grow.
We neglect enjoying the present OR We are discontented with the present. If I’m always remembering the “good old days,” these present days don’t seem to measure up. I miss out on what God is doing right now. I miss out on how he has showered his grace on me at this moment. It’s an idolatry of the past. I am wired to be very sentimental. I guess you could say that’s a form of gratefulness for the past, but it’s really idolatry of the past. It often means a longing for the past and a discontent in the present. Real gratefulness for life is probably more present tense than past tense.
When my oldest daughter graduated from University, we took dozens of pictures–it seemed every permutation of people possible. After her gown was turned in and on our one thousand mile drive back home, we realized we had not gotten a picture of her with her Mom and me–her parents! My daughter and I cried, yes cried, on the way home. My wife said, “What are you crying about? The entire family is together.” She was content; I was not.
Remembering should lead to gratefulness, not discontent. It did for the Psalmist.
I shall remember the deeds of the Lord; I will certainly remember Your wonders of old. I will meditate on all Your work, And on Your deeds with thanksgiving. Ps 77:11-12
And it’s one reason why we remember Christ’s sacrifice in the Lord’s Supper.
...and when He had given thanks, He broke it and said, “This is My body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of Me.” 1 Cor 11:24
We get our eyes off Christ. This is the big problem.
Brothers and sisters, I do not regard myself as having taken hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead.... Phil 3:13
Certainly the Apostle Paul forgot past suffering and sin (3:8-10), but he also forgot his past heritage and accomplishments (3:4-7). He forgot the so-called good times so that he could gain Christ. He was running a race; he didn’t have time to look back.
If nostalgia makes me thankful for every perfect gift from God (Jam 1:17), then it’s helpful. If, however, it makes me long for the gift more than the Giver, then it’s taking my eyes off of Christ.
So, Father, help me to be grateful for today. It’s a gift from you. Keep me from idolizing the past. And maybe help me become more like my son and love your Son more.