Nostalgia, according to Webster’s dictionary, is a “bittersweet longing for what was; it is the memory of what used to be, what has passed, of time gone by. Nostalgia prioritizes the sweet memories of things that have passed, of time that is no longer.
Not every memory is nostalgic, but the memories we choose to call to mind are often of the bittersweet longing variety. Our culture is rampant with nostalgia these days, a harkening back to what we think of as simpler times, or at least perhaps less chaotic times.
Nostalgia shows up in the so-called “generation wars” in which each generation seems to be arguing for why their upbringing and their experience was the “best” (obviously I think this is Generation X). Why do the clothes in the stores look so much like the clothing of my youth? Why is flannel experiencing a comeback?
We can find remakes of movies and songs we loved, then argue about how the originals are better. There are organizations, clubs and groups devoted to all sorts of pieces of the past.
But nostalgia is not just bringing back Care Bears, wide legged jeans, and game shows; nostalgia can come with a shadow side.
What I remember fondly may have a different meaning for someone else. While nostalgia can provide comfort and a sense of wellbeing, as rose-tinted memories often do, it can also be a detriment to mindfulness, to our ability to understand where we are and live in the present.
Nostalgia is laden with both longing and grief. Nostalgia, the glance over the shoulder, the “remember when,” is an evocative word when seeking to describe the present experience of grief in a congregation or organization.
Placed alongside unresolved grief and old pain, nostalgia can be paralyzing, even deadly for people who are faced with real loss and a need to face the deep changes in the world around them. Without the capacity to grieve, the painful emotions that accompany loss cannot diminish in their power.
If a congregation cannot reckon with its history, including the joys and the sorrows of the past, they cannot learn or imagine their way into the future.
In many cases, nostalgia is robbing congregations of the ability to celebrate where they are and the work of God in their midst. It robs them of curiosity about who they are becoming, their changing context and their emerging future simply because it does not look or feel like the way things used to be.
The pull of nostalgia often stymies the vision and imagination of the future and the resilience of the congregation.
Nostalgia, tradition and memory are not wrong in themselves, but try as we might, we can no longer live in the past. The world has changed, we have changed, our churches have changed. It is not possible to “return to Egypt.”
If the pull of the past and our memories are stronger than the hope and vision of the future, the church (and other organizations) will remain stuck – unable to move into the future God is preparing for us, and unable to return to a past that is no more. Memory, tradition, and nostalgia can be tools that help us understand who we are, but they can also trap us in a past that no longer exists.
If we can work through the grief of what is no longer, learning from and releasing the past, our congregations will be better equipped to move forward into the emerging future.
If we cannot reckon with the past and learn to let it go, how can we ever hope to step into the future?
