Do this in remembrance of me.
Communion is a sacred ritual for Christians. When our children profess faith in Jesus, we help them understand His body broken and His blood poured out. We remember together in worship because Jesus’ sacrifice is precious to those who love Him.
In the future your children will ask you,”What is the meaning of these laws, decrees, and regulations that the Lord our God has commanded us to obey?” Then you must tell them, “We were Pharaoh’s slaves in Egypt, but the Lord brought us out of Egypt with His strong hand.”
The annual Passover celebration is filled with symbolism and song as Jewish families recalled their forefather’s deliverance from Egypt. God wanted His people to remember the hardship, the pain, and the bitterness of slavery. The event was inclusive of young children so they could begin learning their history.
Then the Lord said to him, “Know for certain that for four hundred years your descendants will be strangers in a country not their own and that they will be enslaved and mistreated there.”
Exodus describes Israel’s slavery at the hands of Egypt:
“Crushing them with slave labor.” “Made them miserable.” “Piled on the work.” “Crushing them under the cruel workload.” “The Israelites groaned under their slavery and cried out.”
God brought His people out with a mighty hand, and scripture is filled with songs of praise about Israel’s greatest deliverance. Generations later, Moses would be inspired to give words of remembrance in multiple passages.
When you harvest the grapes in your vineyard, do not go over the vines again. Leave what remains for the foreigner, the fatherless and the widow. Remember that you were slaves in Egypt. That is why I command you to do this.
Some are quick to deny present day application of Old Testament responsibility to be inclusive of foreigners. But I hear no such denial of responsibility to widows and the fatherless. God does not let us pick and choose who we remember and who we disregard. Over and over like a never-ending refrain, Israel is told to remember the vulnerable ones in their midst because they were once them.
Here in my town, Franklin Tennessee is passionate about remembering Civil War history. My children went on field trips to historic homes where emotional guides showed bullet holes in the home’s exterior that recall the Battle of Franklin. Blocks of museums fill the battlefield corridor, and a 37 foot marble monument of a confederate soldier sits in the heart of downtown square. Funded by the Daughters of the Confederacy in 1899, the larger than life monument size is a reminder that one perspective of history was meant to have a prominent and intimidating place. Over the last year, my husband and a group of local Pastors and a historian have worked to develop a fuller story initiative that will place memorials to the US Colored troops and other local black heroes who should also be remembered in a prominent way..
As I write, August 1 commemorates 400 years since the first Africans were brought to America as slaves. As an African American woman, that reminder fills my heart with an ever present sorrow. Although the thirteenth amendment abolished slavery, American didn’t merely turn the page of history. Racism still persists. Bryan Stevenson reminds us that “slavery didn’t end in 1865, it just evolved.”
Remembrance is all around me, yet when the subject of U.S. slavery comes up, I hear rhetoric of, “But that was a long time ago.” “I didn’t own slaves.” “You weren’t a slave.”
Rwanda, Poland and Germany remember their country’s atrocities with memorials of truth and reconciliation. Unfortunately many seek to romanticize and minimize the systems of oppression rooted in white supremacy that this country was built upon. And so patterns of family separation and discrimination continue, with racist language even flowing from the highest office in the land.
Over and over in the Bible we see God calling us to remember; inviting us in to the story, to taste the bitterness, the hardship, and His power to save.
It has been humbling to grapple with my ignorance of history. Christian school education taught me a romantic narrative of America’s “Christian” heritage filled with manifest destiny and colonialism. A few black people got honorable mention but I was not taught their vast contributions and painful stories as part of the tapestry that is America. Only in my adulthood did I come to realize that “liberty and justice for all” was primarily for the white men who framed those iconic words. Thankfully I am learning from diverse voices of the past and present, and reshaping a fuller understanding for myself and for my children.
Sharing church community with Native Americans has opened my eyes and broken my heart, learning the generations of abuse and trauma that came from indigenous removal, relegation and forced assimilation. As we do life together, their struggles have become my own.
As Christ followers, we are commanded to bear one another’s burdens. Instead of piling on criticism or distancing ourselves with apathy, we can lift those heavy laden and come alongside with love. What a picture of unity this could be! Beyond acquaintances sharing space, we become family sharing pain. Learning each others stories is critical for shared remembrance and hope. Walls come down, bridges are formed, and a glorious image of unity in the midst of diversity is shone to the world.
God has engraved us on the palms of His hands. We are remembered by the God who delivered. May we put our hands to the work of dismantling racism by remembering, lamenting, and learning together. And when our children ask, we will tell them a fuller story so that the way forward is forged in truth and grace.
Remember that you were slaves in Egypt and that the Lord your God brought you out of there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm.
Scriptures: I Corinthians 11:24; Deuteronomy 6:20-21; Genesis 15:13; Deuteronomy 24:22; Deuteronomy 5:15; Isaiah 49:16
God does not let us pick and choose who we remember and who we disregard. May Christians put our hands to the work of dismantling racism by remembering, lamenting, and learning together. Click To Tweet
