Altars of Remembrance, Recollection, and The Brevity of Life

The word remember is used 352 times in the Bible. If you include variations of this word, it jumps to 550. To remember means, “to think of or recall,” and all throughout Scripture, God instructed His people to build memorials and altars of remembrance.

Take the Israelites, for example. As they journeyed through the wilderness, at various stages and places along the way, God had them erect altars so they would acknowledge and appreciate all He was doing for them—like their victory over the Amalekites in Exodus 17, and the confirmation of their covenant with Him in Exodus 24.

God knew that by having them pause for recollection all along the way, it would deepen their ability to see God’s presence in the midst of the journey, even if and when their circumstances led them to believe otherwise.

For this practice, spend a few moments reflecting back over this year so far. What is one situation, area of life, or set of circumstances where you know God’s presence was with you?

If you are choosing to practice with a friend, share your stories with one another. If you’re practicing alone, find a way to commemorate this recollection by assembling some sort of “altar of remembrance” that will remind you of God’s presence as you continue on with the rest of your year.

It’s easy for us humans to get so used to day-to-day life that it becomes routine. When this happens, we start to lose appreciation for the normality of our environment. This psychological term is called, The Adaptation Effect. Meaning, what was once seen as novel, is now just seen as plain ol’ ordinary.

But a centering way to reset our present-day appreciation and learn to celebrate our lives with new fondness once again, is with a perspective-practice called Memento Mori—a prominent exercise within Stoic philosophy.

By reflecting on our day as though it were our last, and by asking ourselves what today would be like if it actually were our last day on earth, our attention and presence is jolted awake as we recognize the finiteness of life with startling clarity.

As a result, the adaptation effect is halted as we remind ourselves why it’s so important to enjoy our lives and make every moment count.

The following practice invites you into a deeper place of perspective for what you might be tempted to label, “an ordinary day.”

With phone storage capacity increasing exponentially with each new smartphone update, it’s entirely possible to hold years worth of photos on our phones without even realizing. I’m betting you have hundreds of photos in the palm of your hand (or pocket) at this very moment.

But consider this:

When was the last time you went back through your photos with fondness and enjoyment? For example, what is the 52nd picture in your collection? How about 201? Or, what about the very first photo? And, if you were to blindly and quickly scroll through your entire album, randomly landing on a photo, what story or special memory would come flooding back?

For this practice, go through your iPhoto collection, and when you land on something that speaks to you, invite God’s presence into the recollection. Spend time talking to Him about it, praying about it, and practicing gratitude for it. Remember, this is your life.

Cherish it. Savor it. Pay attention to it. And the very intention of your presence toward it is how you slow it down.

If you are going through this practice with a friend, share whatever tears, hilarity, and stories emerge. If you are going through this practice alone, savor the experience. Laugh. Cry. Breathe deep, and enjoy the sacredness of this practice.