Tuesday, April 1, 2014

A Nostalgic Assault

Nostalgia is powerful.  Nostalgia affects people.  It reminds them of simpler days, of more pleasant memories.  Marketers capitalize on nostalgia all the time.  Anything from over-priced baby picture shoots to elaborate vacations, nostalgia has become marketable.  And people fall for it every time.  I don't think nostalgia is a bad thing.  I will say, sometimes it becomes one of those powerful things that hits you unsuspectingly like a load of bricks, and then keeps you in a fierce hold for some time to come.  With that in mind, I'd like to share my own most recent nostalgic experience.
 
In January, hearing that Dr. David Murray was coming to preach in my sister's church, we decided as a family to go down to Monarch to visit the cousins and spend a Sunday hearing this man preach.  The quiet moments while sitting in that church rose swiftly and became an overpowering assault of nostalgia threatening to break me.
 
I had not been in a Free Reformed Church since I was 8 years old.  I was baptized as an infant in the FRC in lower mainland BC and my family faithfully attended 2 services every Sunday, that is, until I hit grade 3 and we moved to Alberta to an area where there were no FRC's. 
 
As I sat in the pew that Sunday, I glanced over and looked out the large window--my eyes resting on the majestic view of the mountains of Southern Alberta.  Why did this all feel so vaguely familiar?
 
As the Consistory filed in , I took notice of the pastor standing before the pulpit in a moment of prayer before he rose to preach.  Ah, yes...I remember that too.  I became rather overcome with emotion as the familiar sound of the pipe organ sounded and those 'oh so long ago' familiar songs played.  I reached for that blue psalter that I had not handled in over 22 years and immediately recognized those song titles which just seemed to jump out at me.
 
Perhaps this is all a naïve childlike romanticism that I am experiencing.  But that Sunday meant so very, very much to me.  It reminded me of a time when life was good, when life was simple and sweet.  Those billowing sorrows were still yet so far away.
 
 
Forgive this sappy post.  It's hard not to get choked up over this.  That Sunday I met and spoke to a preacher who, though I had never met before today, had made a big impact on my life through his ministry.  I worshipped in a church that felt so much like home to me.  We only sang from the psalms.  The preaching was clear and completely Christ-centered.  And the reverence that was upheld throughout the entirety of the service by the congregation was something I had forgotten.  I was finally home again.  There really is no other way to describe it.  This is where I needed to be.  This was right.  This was HOME.  And since returning to Edmonton, I have fiercely missed being in the FRC church.
 
So after the service I acquired the 2 CD's pictured above.  Those CD's are FULL of songs that I learned as a child.  They are psalms that come out of that old, yet familiar Psalter.  I still remember most of them.  And oh, how I treasure these CD's.


I also got these 2 books from that FRC church that same Sunday.  As a result, these little volumes are yet another dear reminder of a sweet, sweet Sunday that the Lord allowed me to enjoy.  Nostalgia indeed.

I miss those days.  Call it what you will --childish sentimentalism perhaps.  But I cannot dismiss the impact that Sunday had on me.  3 months later I'm still thinking fondly of it.  Funny the things that really stay with you throughout life.  I've been in the FRC for 8 years--my 8 earliest years.  I've been out of the FRC for over 22 years--including my most influential years.  And coming back to the FRC is like coming home again.

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS: Please don't misunderstand me to think that I am unhappy in my current church.  I love the church I am currently in.  The preaching is amazing.  The fellowship is wonderful.  This post is just to highlight how good memories can hit a person and even make them feel a little homesick for the good ole' days.

No comments:

Post a Comment