An Iris Awaits: The Mixed Blessing of Nostalgia

Nostalgia. Move around enough, or perhaps I should say return to former habitats enough, and it will become a near-constant companion. Especially if you have a sentimental bent like I do, it attaches itself with a relentless grip.

That sensation of remembrance combined with the surreal realization that things are different yet the same; walking familiar paths and feeling right at home yet simultaneously out of place; knowing that this place is connected to you because it is where a part of your story unfolded, but a part that is in the past—these are all factors that come into play when nostalgia comes calling.

The very definition of the word conveys the mixed nature of the condition. American Heritage Dictionary defines it as “A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past,” and Merriam-Webster as “pleasure and sadness that is caused by remembering something from the past and wishing that you could experience it again.”

As Christians, what role should nostalgia play in our lives? Is it healthy for us to long for what is past? As with many things, I think the answer is both yes and no.

Certainly we are to be a present- and future-minded people—present in the sense that we are called to live today for the glory of God and future in that we live each day with “the blessed hope—the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ” (Titus 2:13, NIV). But there is a sense in which we are to be a people of the past as well.

Often in Christian circles, the “past” is thought of in terms of an individual’s pre-Christ lifestyle that God redeems through the blood of Christ. It is something we are delivered out of and are not to return to. And certainly that is true, but there is another way to view the past: as the account of God’s overarching story wherein his faithfulness, mercy, and grace are displayed.

Numerous times in Scripture God’s people are encouraged—even commanded—to remember the past (e.g. Deut 5:15, 7:18, 32:7, 1 Chron. 16:12, Psalm 105:5, Eph. 2:11-12, etc.), and many of these passages, like Psalm 77:11, speak to recalling the works of God: “I will remember the deeds of the LORD; yes, I will remember your wonders of old” (Psalm 77:11, ESV). In some sense, this could be referring to things that the Lord has done before our time, but I believe there is also something to be said for remembering ways the Lord has worked in our own lives.

And it is here that nostalgia can come into play.

I began writing this post while I was spending the weekend in my four-year home-away-from-home—the town where I went to college. The weekend was filled with catching up with dear friends and traipsing around old haunts, as all the while nostalgia swirled, flooding me with memories of pure joy and deep pain, of refreshing excitement and crushing loss, of quiet peace and turbulent trials.

But what accompanied the mixed emotions was an overwhelming sense of the steady, faithful hand of God through it all. As I found myself longing to return to the happy scenes, some of which are decidedly irretrievable even in a new form, I was gently reminded that those times are gifts that were given me for that particular chapter of my life (and not for this one). They are experiences the Lord gave me to help mold and shape me, to help me learn more about myself and more about Him.

Without remembering those times, I would lose the opportunity to marvel in the work of God in my life, to thank Him for the people and places He allowed me to know, and to praise Him for His graciousness to me. In this way, nostalgia can definitely be a blessing, for the aching longing for former things can lead us to a joyful awe of our sovereign God.

But the longing doesn’t always lead to such a positive result.

We can look to the Israelites for an example of how nostalgia can get us into trouble. In Numbers 11:5, the people are tiring of their God-provided manna and are looking back with longing on the more varied diet they enjoyed in Egypt. “We remember the fish we ate in Egypt that cost nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic,” they cry (ESV).

Their remembrance of the past led to their complaining about the present, and God became angry with them, for they neglected to acknowledge His continuous provision and instead essentially declared that His gifts weren’t good enough. The Numbers account is a cautionary tale for us, because we can easily fall into the same trap. If we’re not careful, we can let nostalgia breed discontentment in our lives.

So, as with many things, nostalgia is neither good nor bad in and of itself. Like a road that splits into two forks, it can lead us either to humble praise or prideful demanding, to contentment or complaining. But being mindful of the mixed potential nostalgia brings with it is the first step in training our minds to take the positive fork rather than the negative, in disciplining ourselves, through the help and power of the Holy Spirit, to be ever mindful of the goodness of God as we remember the past.