OUR CAPACITY TO FORGET

I was comforted the other day when my teenage son went down the basement to his bedroom, only to return to the kitchen and announce that he had forgotten why he had gone downstairs in the first place. A strange consolation, perhaps, but it reassured me: my lapses of middle-aged memory are not just signs of being over the hill. Forgetfulness is part of being human. And the truth is, we have an amazing (one could say chilling) capacity to forget things. Not just where we put the keys or how to program the VCR. We forget important things—including profound spiritual experiences and lessons.

In Deuteronomy Moses, as he is about to pass the leadership torch to Joshua, harps on the Israelites to remember, remember, remember! What is it they must remember? What kinds of things are we capable of forgetting? Consider:

· Don’t forget what your eyes have seen and ears have heard—how the Lord spoke out of the fire at Mt. Horeb (4:9-13).
· Don’t forget the covenant of the Lord—his promise to provide and the terms of commitment he sets for his people (4:23—God certainly won’t forget his promises, 4:31).
· Remember that you were servants in Egypt and the Lord brought you out to freedom (5:15).
· Remember what the Lord your God did to Pharaoh in order to bring you out of slavery (7:18; see also 11:1-7).
· Remember how the Lord has led you these forty years (i.e., not just this past week), and realize that the hardships along his path are given to humble you and prove your faith (8:2-3).
· Don’t forget God when you prosper—when flocks multiply and you have nice houses—or your heart will become proud and you will take credit for the deeds of the Lord (8:11-17).
· Remember that it is God who gives you power to gain wealth (8:18).
· Don’t forget the Lord, or you will surely perish (8:19-20).
· Remember your past stubbornness—how you provoked the Lord to anger in the wilderness through your rebellion (9:6-7).

Memory is a spiritual muscle that must be continually exercised. In short, then, we are to remember two things: God’s past provisions, and our spiritual obtuseness. He has taken care of us, and we are thick and dull. Remember these things, and allow that memory to form a footing in our souls for today’s trust and tomorrow’s hope. If we fail to remember the Lord and his works, we will promptly grasp at his throne and set ourselves up gods—proud little deities who resent trials and clutch at the scant joys of self-congratulation. Realize this about yourself, admit it; and let your memory keep your heart humble. Humility is the key idea: a humble heart looks away to the Lord and honors him (remember his greatness, his goodness, his many provisions), and it recalls our propensity to enthrone ourselves (keeping this in mind helps us cling to the Lord!).

We also pick up in Deuteronomy that remembering these urgent matters is a community project. Although individual memory is a vital spiritual capacity, the words of Moses in these chapters are addressed to the people, to the body of believers. The Israelites are charged together with keeping the truth alive in their collective consciousness. And they are instructed as well to share and spread the memory of God’s great deeds by bringing the next generation into the story and filling the minds of their children with wonder at the power and love and imagination of their great God (4:9)! The more we share our recollections of the Lord’s great works, the more our memory will pulsate with spiritual life!

THE MYSTERY OF CONTENTMENT

On p. 43 of The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment, 17th century Puritan pastor Jeremiah Burroughs says, “Mark, here lies the mystery of it [i.e., contentment], A little in the world will content a Christian for his passage, but all the world, and ten-thousand times more, will not content a Christian for his portion.” So the maturing believer is at one and the same time both deeply content and utterly dissatisfied.

How can that be? “A soul that is capable of God can be filled with nothing else but God...” It is not enough to know earthly comforts or even the peace of God: one must have the God of peace. Burroughs speaks to the “gracious heart” and explains: “If God gave you not only earth but heaven, that you should rule over the sun, moon and stars, and have the rule over the highest of the sons of men, it would not be enough to satisfy you, unless you had God himself” (p. 44).