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But a distant memory?

22 Feb 2009 - Preaching the News for Sunday

In this Sunday's reading from the Book of Isaiah, the Lord tells the people of Israel: "Remember not the events of the past." When it comes to past unpleasant events, however, research suggests that bad memories linger longer than pleasant ones. Scientists now have discovered that certain drugs associated with the regulation of blood pressure can be used to weaken or erase fearful memories. They hope there may be applications of these findings for people with post-traumatic stress disorders. Studies in animal models have shown that fearful memories sometimes change when recalled, a process known as reconsolidation, and that this reconsolidation stage is vulnerable to the blood pressure drugs called beta-adrenergic receptor blockers. Some ethicists, however, see problems. "An interesting complexity is the possibility that victims, say of violence, might wish to erase the painful memory and with it their ability to give evidence against assailants," said Professor John Harris, an expert in biological ethics at the University of Manchester. "Similarly criminals and witnesses to crime may, under the guise of erasing a painful memory, render themselves unable to give evidence." There's apparently a natural way to rid yourself of bad memories, too. A 2007 study involving brain scans found that test subjects had the ability to suppress specific memories at a particular moment in time through repeated practice. Source: An article by Robert Roy Britt for LiveScience.com

memories blood pressure medication post-traumatic stress disorder reconsolidation john harris

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22 Jan 2012 - Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

Hurricane Katrina did more than damage buildings, flood neighborhoods, and affect energy costs. It also drastically changed the lives of thousands of residents of "The Big Easy." Not only were the memories of the past so attached to the history of the places in the city blown away by that storm, but also, and more important, so were the hopes for the future. It is hard for those of us who have not experienced such a tragedy to understand what it means to lose pieces of our past and parts of our future. Scripture today looks to the past. Most of us as children colored a picture of Jonah and the whale or read a children's version of the story. The past was simpler. But it also points to the future as Jesus begins his public ministry and the work of the redemption of humankind. He calls those who will one day bring that gift of salvation to all people. The future can give us hope. It is Saint Paul who warns us that even the present moment is passing away. So what are we to do? Memories are important. We hold mementos of the past close to our hearts even though they may break or fade or wash away. We look to the future with hope and faith. But it always remains out there beyond us. And it quickly changes from future, to present, to past. The best we can do, given the nature of the flow of time and events, is to put it all in God's hands, showing gratitude for the past, hope for the future, and strength to live in the present with all that God's love gives us.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

memories Hope

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25 Dec 2011 - Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord (Christmas), Cycle B

Why is it that Christmas carols, the same ones we sing year after year, mean so much to us? I hear "Silent Night," and I think of setting up the creche in the family grocery store. I hear "0 Holy Night," and I remember being thanked by an elderly couple from their window after going caroling through the neighborhood. And "Adeste Fidelis" always reminds me of carrying the infant Jesus to the crib at Midnight Mass. It is precisely the memories that are attached to the carols that make them so powerful to us. These memories are part of our Christmas traditions. These traditions are part of the parcel of faith that has been handed down to us. We add to it and then we hand it on to others--to family, neighbors, friends, and, as important, to those bereft of all that has been handed on to us. When we have been given so much it becomes essential that we share it with others. It is more of a gift than any of the wrapped presents we will open. The music of this season sounds out of place in July or at a funeral or instead of our anthem at a baseball game. But the reality of what we celebrate today is for every single day of our lives. It is never out of place to share God's loving presence with others. The Light and the Word born into our world has been memorialized in hymns and carols since the angels sang "Glory to God in the highest" that first Christmas. But it lives on through our actions today and every day.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

Christmas memories

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28 Mar 2010 - Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord, Cycle C

My eldest sister lies with her head resting against my mother’s side. My mother strokes her hair. “Honorable Number One Daughter,” my mother whispers softly. Tears well up in my sister’s eyes. “Mom still remembers me,” she thinks to herself with a mixture of hope and sadness. My mother suffers from Alzheimer’s. She has virtually forgotten who she is, what she believes, and who she is in relation to others. But every now and then she remembers. The joy of our lives is based on memories, and our most sacred experience of the divine is in sharing a meal each week in memory of Jesus. Memory brings comfort and a point of reference. My mother has lost her center with each dying memory. Such disconnect was not her choice. Most of us don’t have the same excuse. Forgetting who were are and who we are meant to serve is our greatest shame. Like Peter, we can’t help but weep bitterly when we realize we’ve lost our bearings and betrayed Jesus. But worse yet—and our greatest dread—is that Jesus will forget. The dying wish of the good thief—“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom”—rests in all of our hearts.

Authors Patrice J. Tuohy

memory memories alzheimers disease remembrance

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07 Dec 2008 - Second Sunday of Advent, Cycle B

Family members were on edge. A beloved aunt had died, and all her grown nieces and nephews were gathered in her home to figure out how to dispose of her lifetime of belongings. You could feel the tension in the room. Old hurts were close to the surface. Fear reigned in everyone’s heart as they worried that they would not get their due. And, though they didn’t realize it at the time, fueling all the fear and tension was the pain of having lost someone who had always loved them so well. Then cousin Ella held up a fancy old parasol. “Remember how she always used to bring this down to the beach when we were playing in the sand?” Chuckles filled the room and the fear began to evaporate. Fred chimed in, “And remember how she used to dress up so elegantly just to go play bingo?” Smiles and tears mingled as the stories tumbled out. A lifetime of stories, this was the real treasure to be shared. The scripture readings this week all deal with change–radical change. We are called upon to be like John the Baptist and “prepare the way of the Lord.” In our homes and workplaces we do that in many ways. It may be a gentle joke, an insightful comment, a request for forgiveness, standing up for truth, or even a gesture like a hug or a pat on the back. But in that moment, everything changes. The rough places have been made smooth.

Authors Tom McGrath

john the baptist Preparation death memories mourning

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25 Dec 2018 - Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord (Christmas), Cycle C

Why is it that Christmas carols, the same ones we sing year after year, mean so much to us? I hear "Silent Night," and I think of setting up the creche in the family grocery store. I hear "O Holy Night," and I remember being thanked by an elderly couple from their window after going caroling through the neighborhood. And "Adeste Fidelis" always reminds me of carrying the infant Jesus to the crib at Midnight Mass. It is precisely the memories that are attached to the carols that make them so powerful to us. These memories are part of our Christmas traditions. These traditions are part of the parcel of faith that has been handed down to us. We add to it and then we hand it on to others—to family, neighbors, friends, and, as important, to those bereft of all that has been handed on to us. When we have been given so much it becomes essential that we share it with others. It is more of a gift than any of the wrapped presents we will open. The music of this season sounds out of place in July or at a funeral or instead of our anthem at a baseball game. But the reality of what we celebrate today is for every single day of our lives. It is never out of place to share God’s loving presence with others. The Light and the Word born into our world has been memorialized in hymns and carols since the angels sang “Glory to God in the highest” that first Christmas. But it lives on through our actions today and every day.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

carols song traditions hymns memories

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01 Jan 2019 - Octave Day of the Nativity of the Lord; Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of God, Cycle C

There is always a market for nostalgia. Depending on our age, we look back at the ’40s or ’60s or even the ’80s as the “good old days.” On the internet and in specialty stores, we can listen to music from Guy Lombardo to the Jackson 5. We can purchase lava lamps and bean bag chairs. We can play with Slinkys and Barbie and Pong. Things are in fashion one day and out the next. Family values, at least the phrase, has come back into style more as a political statement than a way of living. It is incredibly easy to look at the past and see simpler, better times. Our memories have a way of erasing the negative and smoothing the rough edges. This is especially tempting to do during the holiday season as we look to a new year filled with resolutions about the future. The secret is to take what is right about the past and make it part of our new reality. That is what Jesus’ mother Mary does. By reflecting on all that has happened to her within the traditions of her faith she is able to make the presence of our Savior a reality in our world, thus fulfilling a promise of the past and giving us hope for the future. And so we must model our lives on that same challenge Mary’s life makes. The traditions of our faith stand ready to help us find our salvation in the future. What we believe is far more than a nostalgia for the past. It is a challenge for the future.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

nostalgia memories traditions

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14 Apr 2019 - Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord, Cycle C

My eldest sister lies with her head resting against my mother’s side. My mother stroked her hair. “Honorable Number One Daughter,” my mother whispered softly. Tears welled up in my sister’s eyes. “Mom still remembers me,” she thought to herself with a mixture of hope and sadness. My mother suffered from Alzheimer’s. She had virtually forgotten who she was, what she believed, and who she was in relation to others. But every now and then she remembered. The joy of our lives is based on memories, and our most sacred experience of the divine is in sharing a meal each week in memory of Jesus. Memory brings comfort and a point of reference. My mother had lost her center with each dying memory. Such disconnect was not her choice. Most of us don’t have the same excuse. Forgetting who we are and who we are meant to serve is our greatest shame. Like Peter, we can’t help but weep bitterly when we realize we’ve lost our bearings and betrayed Jesus.

Authors Patrice J. Tuohy

memories alzheimers disease forgetting memory

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25 Dec 2019 - Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord (Christmas), Cycle A

Why is it that Christmas carols, the same ones we sing year after year, mean so much to us? I hear "Silent Night," and I think of setting up the creche in the family grocery store. I hear "0 Holy Night," and I remember being thanked by an elderly couple from their window after going caroling through the neighborhood. And "Adeste Fidelis" always reminds me of carrying the infant Jesus to the crib at midnight Mass. It is precisely the memories that are attached to the carols that make them so powerful to us. These memories are part of our Christmas traditions. These traditions are part of the parcel of faith that has been handed down to us. We add to it and then we hand it on to others—to family, neighbors, friends, and, as important, to those bereft of all that has been handed on to us. When we have been given so much it becomes essential that we share it with others. It is more of a gift than any of the wrapped presents we will open. The music of this season sounds out of place in July or at a funeral or instead of our anthem at a baseball game. But the reality of what we celebrate today is for every single day of our lives. It is never out of place to share God's loving presence with others. The Light and the Word born into our world has been memorialized in hymns and carols since the angels sang "Glory to God in the highest" that first Christmas. But it lives on through our actions today and every day.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

memories carols share god's presence

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12 Jan 2020 - Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, Cycle A

Being one of the older grandchildren in my family, I attended the Baptisms of nearly 20 of my younger cousins and siblings, and I have so many memories of all of them. I remember the buzz of excitement of a new person in the family—it was the first time many were meeting the baby. I remember the cakes and presents and fun of gathering together. I remember which babies cried during their big moment. One of my cousins wore my baptismal gown—which her mother, my aunt, wore before me. It was my job to carefully iron it that morning. She had it on for about 10 minutes before she threw up all over it. I remember that my grandma disapproved so strongly if anyone wasn’t baptized with both a first and middle name after a saint! My own name, Jennifer, prompted plenty of argument—I assume, since I don’t remember. Which is a strange thing about infant Baptism—we don’t remember our own. Others are a witness to it, as we are to others’. Which I think is a beautiful thing. It gives you a sense of wonder about yours. And it’s a gift of responsibility to hold the memory of someone else’s for them.

Authors Jennifer Tomshack

memory memories Baptisms

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