All Saints Day, Prague Memories and Jerry Rushford

I grew up in a preacher's family in the sheltered world of Churches of Christ. It was a good environment for growing up. No complaints from me. That would have been more than enough if I had stayed in that world.

When I went to Europe after the collapse of Communism, I discovered that I was woefully unprepared to understand the world around me. My understanding of faith was equally limited. I understood the ways of doing things "in our tribe" and knew a few things about "neighboring tribes" (like Baptists), but I was ignorant (and dismissive) of the largest branch of Christianity -- Catholicism.

I do not wish at this time to discuss Catholicism as a whole. Allow me to simply state that my lack of knowledge about Catholicism proved a roadblock in understanding the Czech culture and mindset.

Admittedly, very few Czechs practice faith of any kind. But the Catholic faith (and questions of faith in general) permeate almost every level of Czech society -- even if many Czechs themselves don't realize this. I could give countless examples.

One key example is the observance of All Saints Day. In a number of Christian churches Nov 1 is the traditional day to remember the saints who have died (All Saints Day). Some mark Nov 2 as the day to remember all who have died in the faith (All Souls Day).

I knew absolutely nothing about this when I first moved to Prague, Czechoslovakia in 1990. I recall being dragged by Dr. Václav Huňáček, one of our professors of Czech and Slavic culture at Charles University, to a graveyard on November 1. I believe he actually took us to the Slavín cemetery up by the ruins of Vyšehrad castle (you can click the underlined text to see pictures). He assumed we knew what All Saints Day was as he showed us the stones marking the burial plots for famous composers, artists, writers, politicians and the like.

I was curious about the history, but I honestly had no real clue why people were walking through the grave markers in the pre-dusk hours on that cold November afternoon. I could not fathom why they were lighting candles and leaving them to burn out on the cold tombstones. What was the meaning of all this? I was most likely dismissive of these "superstitious" practices that seemed so far from the biblical Christianity I (arrogantly, perhaps) came to represent. Our friend and lifelong Prague resident Vlasta Hahnová had taken us here before, but we could not appreciate the need for remembering long-dead people.

We are people short on memory. Our culture has a 'what-have-you-done-for-me-lately' mindset. If something is seemingly irrelevant or insignificant to us, we belittle it by saying, "Oh, that's history." History means far too little to many of us.

Dr. Jerry Rushford was here at the College Church of Christ yesterday. He spoke of the past in vivid terms. Whether describing how some of our hymns came to be or telling tales about faith on the Western frontier, he seemed to describe these events as if he had been there. As an historian he cherishes and nurtures memories from the past.

I wonder if we are able to discern the voices that constantly echo around us. Do we have ears to even hear them? Do we have the patience to figure out what they are saying? Do we have time to stop in the gathering darkness of dusk, on a brisk afternoon, to pause at tombstones and remember those who have gone before? Would we take a moment to light a candle in their memory? Could they teach us anything? Can we gain something from the past?

Looking back on my time in Prague, I wish I could do many things over. One of my key regrets is that I was unprepared to absorb the history. I was unable to fully appreciate the past. I feel that this downfall made me unable to adequately communicate to people in the present. It certainly hampered my ability to shape their future in any meaningful way.