
There’s a story about a pastor who became annoyed with a particular woman in his congregation.
She claimed to have daily personal conversations with Jesus.
More and more enthusiasts came to her house. They sang hymns and offered prayers of hope and desperation.
He wondered if this was about to get out of hand. What if local TV reporters came and asked difficult questions, and the church ended up looking foolish? What if she wrote a book and Oprah recommended it to her legions of fans?
The pastor decided it was time for a confrontation. He went to visit the woman.
He suggested, gently but firmly, that she was probably self-deceived. This “voice of Jesus” was in all likelihood the soundtrack of her own mind.
She listened politely but didn’t yield. Jesus was even at that moment speaking to her, she insisted.
The pastor was prepared.
“If Jesus is right here, right now, ask him to name the three sins that I confessed to God this morning. If ‘Jesus’ tells you those three precise sins, I might entertain the possibility you’re really talking to him.”
The woman sat quietly for a long while.
Then she turned to the pastor and smiled.
She said, “I asked him. But Jesus said, ‘I forgot.’”
Before we find ourselves wondering if God is somehow absent-minded, prone to amnesia, or could stand a dose of spiritual Prevagen, we need to ponder divine promises like this one:
“I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more” (Jeremiah 31:34).
Biblically, to remember means to keep something vividly before our minds. To forget means to let that something go – to refuse to let it dominate our thoughts or actions, even though we can effortlessly bring it to mind.
When it comes to our sins, God keeps his promises. He chooses not to remember them – that is, to make them the most important part of our identity.
That’s why God’s good news is such good news.
Even though he knows every inch of our frailties and failures, the thing that’s truly unforgettable at the end of every day is his grace.
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