"The Master, Jesus, on the night of his betrayal, took bread. Having given thanks, he broke it and said, this is my body, broken for you. Do this to remember me. After supper, he did the same thing with the cup: This cup is my blood, my new covenant with you. Each time you drink this cup, remember me." 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 MSG

I’ve been thinking about remembering a lot recently. The things we remember, what we forget, the ways in how we remember can serve as a way to protect us, and how certain memories can bring us great delight. My stream of thought actually began with the things I can’t remember. At different points in my adult life I’ve found myself lamenting that I have so few memories from childhood. What we remember and what we do not, whether by choice or subconsciously, is significant. As followers of Jesus we engage in the practice of remembering. We remember God’s covenantal promise to Abraham, we remember the teachings of Jesus, we remember and live in hope that Jesus will come again, and each Sunday when we receive the eucharist, as 1 Corinthians 11:24 says we do so in remembrance of Jesus. 

Sometimes the things we remember are hard. They may trigger grief or trauma, things we’d rather not remember. But remembering can also be a gift, causing us to relive a favorite childhood memory, remembering the first time we met our spouse, or an achievement from long ago. My husband and I watched the food documentary High on the Hog last week. I can’t recommend it enough; so much of the food documented in it reminded me of my paternal grandmother, Caroline, who passed away when I was 10. Food has always had strong connections to memory for me. Making collard greens for my family, takes me back to the soul food my grandmother cooked for us. She’d spend all day in the kitchen cooking collard greens, black eyed peas, mac n cheese, too-sweet Kool Aid, caramel cake, and chitlins (I must confess as someone who’s not a big fan of meat, I never tried them). These food memories also bring up memories of family packed in my grandmother's small home, pouring out into the yard, laughter, and a place where all were welcome. Many of the people who gathered at her home are gone now, but memories of them remain.

As we enter into Black History Month 2022, remembering feels especially important. Remembering not only the scars of our nation’s history around enslavement, the Jim Crow Era, The Civil Rights Movement, George Floyd, and Brianna Tyalor, but also remembering that struggle and enslavement do not define Black Americans. Black America can also be defined by hope, greatness, and beauty in the stories of people like George Washington Carver, Ida B Wells, Frederick Douglass, Robert McNair, Misty Copeland, Zaila Avant-garde, Amanda Gorman and so many more. In remembering there is also commitment to learning. Perhaps this year, we can each commit to learning something new about Black History.

If you’re looking for some ways to learn and engage, check out this link from our diocese. I have the privilege of co-leading a Zoom conversation for the diocese at the end of the month and I’d love to have some Church of the Cross folks participate. Additionally, see below for a few of my favorite books, podcasts, etc. that you can learn from all year long.

Resources
Jesus and the Disinherited, by Howard Thurman
Reading While Black, by Esau McCaulley
Truths Table(podcast)
Letter from a Birmingham Jail, MLK readherewatch/listenhere
High on the Hog
Summer of Soul

For children
Little Leaders, by Vashti Harrison
The ABCs of Black History, by Rio Cortez

The peace of Christ,

Kimberly+

Ps– It was so good to worship with y’all last week, in-person and online. I don’t know about y’all, but I was deeply blessed by the time of healing prayer. We are also working to build up our prayer team. If you’re interested in serving in this area or taking part in the healing prayer book study happening now, contact Karen Walker at kaswamail@gmail.com. This Sunday we’ll have clergy available to pray during the eucharist if you’d like prayer.