Grace doesn’t forget. Grace chooses not to remember.
He’s God, right? He knows everything. And if He knows it all, how can He not remember?
I’ll bet it’s been debated in countless all-nighters at every seminary over coffee and, depending on the seminary, other adult beverages. Because if God’s all-powerful, then He can “not remember” if that’s what He wants to do. But wouldn’t He remember that He didn’t remember?
More coffee, please.
I raise the issue because it’s the sort of question that sidetracks the guys in my ongoing workshop. So we chase it around for a few minutes, but we have a go-to phrase to get us back on track.
I DON’T KNOW HOW THAT WORKS.
It’s good to seek understanding where we can. But faith involves accepting a certain measure of mystery. On this side of eternity, it won’t all make sense.
For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. (1 Corinthians 13:12)
So there’s wisdom in acknowledging what I don’t know and leaving that to God. If He says He chooses not to remember, that’s good enough for me.
# # #
The real question isn’t—or shouldn’t be—God’s capability. We really ought to ask about our response.
If “grace chooses not to remember,” perhaps our public discourse (and our Facebook timelines) might reflect a less acute memory and accounting of wrongs.
I know He said I’m supposed to love my enemies. You don’t suppose He meant I’m to avoid publically criticizing people I don’t like, do you? Or, even worse, actually looking for something kind to say?
Nah. That’s just crazy talk.
Please leave a comment here.