Your Sins Are Forgiven and Forgotten

“Forgive and forget.” That’s a standard line in our culture’s morality. (It’s a standard line. I don’t know about a standard practice.)

The Bible talks an awful lot about forgiving others. You should forgive someone who sins against you 77 times (Matt 18:21-22)—in other words, stop trying to keep count! “If you do not forgive others their sins,” Jesus warns, “your Father will not forgive your sins.” (Matt 6:15) We should “bear with each other and forgive one another,” Colossians says. “Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” (3:13)

As far as I know, though, the Bible never talks about ‘forgiving and forgetting’. You could take Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 13 that way: love “keeps no record of wrongs.” (13:5) To me, those words rule out resentment and grudges, but they don’t advise amnesia. You ought to remember someone’s character and let that guide how to relate to them wisely going forward, but you shouldn’t rehearse a record of wrongs and keep fanning those flames of anger.

The Bible never says you have to forgive and forget.

But the Bible does tell us that God does. The Lord is a God who forgives and forgets.

A lot of folks think of Old Testament as the part of scripture filled with harsh words of judgment, while the New Testament is all mercy, grace, and love. There are reasons people have that impression, but it’s actually the Old Testament where you see this promise most clearly.

The Old Testament already strains our sense of distance when it says that “as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.” (Ps 103:12) But then, it goes a step further, when the Lord promises: “I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more.” (Jer 31:34)

I will remember your sins no more.

Not only are our sins incomprehensibly far gone, but God forgot all about them. The Lord doesn’t see you as a disappointing daughter who’s always falling short or an infuriatingly sin-sick son. God has chosen not to remember any of that. Forgive. Forget.

I think that’s why Paul, faced with his own imperfections, could talk about “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead.” (Phil 3:13) There is no reason for you to dwell on your mistakes. God doesn’t. Don’t get me wrong: you might still need to take action to make things right with someone or in some situation, but you don’t need to swim in guilt and shame over who you’ve been. We all need a realistic self-awareness: you should know your weaknesses and your limits. But that ought to inform your journey of faith, not take you on a guilt trip. Forget what is behind, just like your Father remembers your sins no more. Like Maria Goff says over and over in her book, Love Lives Here: Jesus is more interested in who you’re becoming than in who you were.

So, do we need to forgive and forget with each other? Sort of. Not quite.

Will God forgive and forget with us? Every single time.

Listen to the devotional here:

Seen by Jesus

For the last few months, I’ve been leading a Wednesday night Bible study on Forgotten Women of the Bible. We’ve talked about Leah, Michal, Jehosheba, and more. There are a few women who, I don’t think I could lead an hour-long discussion about them, but I still wanted a chance to share their stories. I don’t want them to be forgotten. And so, today, I want to tell you about one of those ladies.

Hers is one of the more familiar stories out of the bunch. (We know our Gospels a lot better than we know our Old Testament!)

We meet her in Luke chapter 7. Jesus is having dinner with a Pharisee named Simon, when an unexpected visitor joins them:

And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was reclining at table in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment. (7:37-38)

Simon is scandalized by what he sees, and he thinks to himself, ‘Well, if Jesus here were really a prophet, then he’d know what kind of woman this is touching him—this sinner.’ (7:39)

But he did know. Simon thought that this woman’s distance from God would repulse Jesus, but her distance from God was precisely why Jesus wanted to be with her. His mission was to seek and save the lost, not wash his hands of them and cut them loose.

Besides: to Jesus—unlike Simon—this woman wasn’t defined by her sins. She was defined by her great love. To Simon, it’s very simple: “she is a sinner.” (7:39) But Jesus isn’t content with that. He asks Simon, “Do you see this woman?” (7:44) Do you really see her? Do you see what she’s done for me? Some people may only see your past, your mistakes, your collection of scarlet letters, but Jesus sees your heart, who you’re trying to be, who you can be someday. Simon sees a woman who has sinned. Jesus sees a woman who has been forgiven much and loves much (7:47).

This nameless woman’s story reveals how Jesus looks at you and me, whenever we come to him ashamed and in the wrong—whether it’s from that one nagging vice that, try as you might, you just can’t kick, or it’s from a lifetime of self-centeredness and self-indulgence. He looks at you the way the prodigal’s father looked at him: longing for his child to be close, to be home again. To him, you’ve always been so much more than a sinner.

The late Dallas Willard described the scene in Luke 7 like this: “She had seen a goodness in him that could only be God, and it broke her heart with gratitude and love.” That’s why she shamelessly adored him with her ugly crying, messy hair, and pricy ointment. May we all find a way, today, to show Christ our gratitude and love.

You can listen right here!

Sweat the Small Stuff

There’s a great quote from St. Augustine, an influential Christian bishop from the 300s-400s, that says,

Do not shrug daily sins aside because they are small; fear them, rather, because they are many… How tiny are grains of sand! Put too much sand into a boat, it sinks. How tiny are drops of rain! They fill rivers and wash away houses, don't they? So don't just shrug these sins aside.

When I look at this or that “small” sin, it may not seem too alarming. Okay, so I voiced that criticism that I should have kept to myself. I ignored that phone call that I should have taken. (I’m sure I’ll call them back!) I fueled my resentment by reading that news article, even though I knew it would only make me mad. It happens. God will forgive me. What’s the big deal?

The big deal is that my day is filled with those small sins. How long before all of those rain drops swell into a flood that does serious, lasting damage?

When I saw that quotation, it reminded me of some other words, from Catherine Sanderson, a writer and professor of psychology: “You gotta sweat the small stuff.” Sanderson’s point was that tiny, seemingly insignificant decisions and acts lead you somewhere. They set a trajectory that, once you get a little farther along, may not seem so tiny or insignificant. That affair began with an “innocent” conversation at work. That rift in the friendship began with the choice to bring last week’s argument back up. If you want to avoid trouble and hurt down the road, you’ve gotta sweat the small stuff.

And maybe that’s why Jesus said in Luke 9:23 that “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.”

Taking up your cross daily means sweating the small stuff. It means refusing to shrug off those tiny sins. Jesus isn’t calling his followers to carry a literal cross like his and go to their deaths—not usually, at least—but to carry a cross of daily self-denial, of setting aside my preferences, my feelings, and my desires, for the sake of loving God and loving my neighbors. In that classroom full of hyper kids. In your car at the intersection. In front of a sink full of dirty dishes at home. All day long you have opportunities to either shrug off a tiny sin and do what you want, or to take up your cross and go where Jesus is leading.

And whether I am a faithful disciple of Christ today probably isn’t going to depend on how I respond to some earth-shaking temptation or obstacle. It’ll depend on the choices I make in all of those small moments. It’ll depend on whether I pay attention to and get intentional about the small stuff.

Listen to this devotional below (read by Stuffy-Nosed Nance!):

Watching and Praying with Wesley (Not That Wesley)

Susanna Wesley

"Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful." - Colossians 4:2

If you know anything about John Wesley’s mother, Susanna, you know that she was a key influence on her children’s faith and education. Not only was she responsible for their learning for the first decade of their lives, but she continued to exchange letters with them and discuss theology well into their adult years.

One small piece of her legacy is this “Prayer of Susanna Wesley” included in The United Methodist Book of Worship:

You, O Lord, have called us to watch and pray.
Therefore, whatever may be the sin against which we pray,
make us careful to watch against it,
and so have reason to expect that our prayers will be answered.
In order to perform this duty aright,
grant us grace to preserve a sober, equal temper,
and sincerity to pray for your assistance. Amen.

I’m sure her opening line is inspired by Matthew 26:41 and Mark 14:38, when Jesus warns his sleepy disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane to “watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation.” Resisting temptation is definitely the aim of this prayer. But this also reminds me of Colossians 4 and Paul’s call to watchful prayer. That instruction in Colossians is brief and leaves a lot unexplained, but Wesley here really unpacks this idea of being watchful.

First, she says that if you’re praying against some sin—for strength to resist temptation, for repentance when you stray from Christ’s path, for transformation of some bad habits—if you’re praying against some sin, you have to be careful to watch against it. In other words, don’t expect God to do the work for you. Pray for God’s grace, and then do your part: be alert and on your guard against that sin. Then we’ll “have reason to expect that our prayers will be answered.” Devote yourself to prayer and be watchful.

The second thing Wesley asks from God is grace to “preserve a sober, equal temper.” To me, a “sober, equal temper” (that’s 18^th century-talk) means being controlled and even-keeled in your emotional responses, not reactive or volatile. That’s essential in all of the little interactions that make up loving your neighbor. It’s something we need to watch for, and, even if that’s not your normal knee-jerk reaction, with God’s help, with grace, that kind of calm, measured disposition is possible.

She closes by requesting “sincerity to pray for your assistance.” Wesley prays that she’ll keep praying. This prayer isn’t supposed to solve her problem. It’s supposed to bring her back before the Lord, seeking assistance again. This prayer is self-perpetuating. Overcoming temptation isn’t the result of one moment’s effort or one cry for help but of an unbroken chain of prayers that have us continually watching out for sin, watching our own tendencies, and watching for God to come to our aid. Like Paul wrote, this kind of watchful prayer is something that you devote yourself to.

Are you being watchful in prayer?

Are you watching for temptation, watching your own attitudes and behaviors, and watching out for God’s grace to help you day by day?

What do you need to start watching more closely today?

You can listen to this week's devotional below:

Training Up

This Sunday we talked about the passage in Mark 9 where Jesus calls his followers to welcome children in his name. Engaging and caring for children is what serving our King looks like. (See Mark 9:37.)

There’s another reason, that I didn’t get into that morning, that our love for and ministries with children are so important. It’s simply that, a kid today is already being formed into the adult they’ll be tomorrow. That’s why Proverbs 22:6 famously says, “Train up a child in the way, and when they’re old they will not stray.” (I love that translation—it captures how proverbs are meant to be catchy.) The way Eugene Peterson put it, in his Message Bible, is “Point your kids in the right direction— when they’re old they won’t be lost.” Childhood is the most impressionable time of someone’s life, and so you want to give them the right impressions about the things that matter most.

Every adult in a child’s life is making impressions on them—aunts and uncles, family friends, grandparents, church volunteers, teachers and classroom aides. Of course, as Andy and Sandra Stanley have pointed out, the source of words determines the weight of those words, and words from a parent weigh the most. So, think about the children in your life:

1. How much do your words (and example) weigh to them?
2. How are you using those words and that example to train them and point them in the right direction?

We should be realistic about the influence we do or do not have, but we should also always be intentional about giving them the right impressions—about themselves, about other people, about money, health, their bodies, the environment, priorities, and, certainly, about faith.

I never realized until someone pointed it out, but that proverb is not just a prescription for how to guide a child: it’s also a warning. Whether you realize it or not, whether you are doing it with care or not, you are training children in the way they’re going to go. We are constantly training them in what kind of behavior is acceptable, what attitudes are normal, what activities are important or unimportant.

Every now and then I’ll hear someone say, “Practice makes perfect,” and someone else will immediately chime in, “Perfect practice makes perfect.” This is point they’re making: you can be trained badly. You can be discipled in the wrong direction. The warning of the proverb is, take care how you train a child, because whatever way you train them in, when they’re old they won’t stray from it.

No one’s going to do this perfectly. God knows I don’t. But we can all strive to do it deliberately, to give thought to the impressions we’re making with our words and examples.

Do you give thought to the words you use and example you set around children, to leave the best impressions you can? Are you intentional about interacting with kids and being a positive influence in their lives?

Remember: engaging and caring for children is what serving our King looks like.

Listen to this devotional right here:

Dedicate a Space

I met someone recently who was a prayer closet person.

A prayer closet person is someone who has a designated space or room or literal closet in their home where they do their praying—a prayer closet. As far as I know, the idea comes from something Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount: “whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret.” (Matthew 6:6) The King James Version actually says “enter into thy closet.” There was even a whole movie about a prayer closet a few years back called War Room. It’s a thing.

This isn’t something I’ve ever done, and it’s very rare that I ever hear someone talk about one, but, like I said, I met a real, live prayer closet person recently.

And she told a story.

She said that there were some guests coming over to the house, and, of course, she had junk everywhere that she needed to clean up, stat. So, in the rush before folks got there, she crammed all of that junk into her handy, dandy prayer closet.

But it’s a lot easier to cram junk into a closet than it is to clean the closet back out, isn’t it?

So, everything just sat in her prayer closet. And sat. And sat.

And she said, “Yes, I was praying, but I lost my dedicated space, because I put junk in there.”

I don’t remember what point she was making with that story. All I remember is thinking, ‘Wow. That’s a parable.’ I don’t think she meant to tell a parable, but that’s how it hit me: this wasn’t just a story about her closet; it was a story about all of our schedules.

She had a space in her life dedicated to prayer, but she lost it, because she’d filled it with junk instead. Meanwhile, you and I don’t have space in our days for prayer. Why? Because we’ve filled every moment we can find with something else.

TV.

Social media.

Hobbies.

Socializing.

Podcasts.

Sports.

Work.

Exercise.

You know what your schedule looks like. Some of the busyness is really good, valuable things. Some of it’s junk.

The psalmist said he would lift up his hands in prayer as long as he lived (Ps 63:4). The first Christians were known for their devotion to prayer (Acts 2:42). The Apostle Paul exhorted believers to “never stop praying” (1 Thess 5:17).

But I don’t have time, because I fill all my opportunities with other things instead.

What would it take to clean some of the junk out of your day and dedicate a space in your life for prayer?

How would you need to rearrange your schedule?

What might need to be cut out of your current routine?

What new thing might you need to say ‘no’ to?

Everyone has at least a little margin in the day that they can control, but if you aren’t intentional with that time, devices and distractions will happily colonize it. So make a plan. Prioritize the things that are vital.

That cup of coffee in the morning.

The chance to decompress at the end of a long day.

Those moments of connecting with your Lord in prayer.

Accompanied by Your God

Ezekiel's vision, from the Zurich Bible

If you’ve ever read (or tried to read) the book of Ezekiel, then you know that chapter 1 is wild.

There are these four creatures, each with four wings, four faces, and hooves like a calf, flashing around like bolts of lightning (1:5-14).

Beside the creatures are wheels—“something like a wheel within a wheel”—and the rims of the wheels are covered in eyes. Anywhere the creatures go, the wheels go with them. (1:15-21)

Above all that is “something like a dome,” (1:22) with “something like a throne” on top (he’s not really sure how to describe it all), and on the throne-thing is “something that seemed like a human form” (1:26)—the Lord.

He’s having a vision of God’s throne. It’s sort of a chariot. The creatures—cherubim, we find out later in the book—pull the chariot, and it rolls along on those watchful wheels. The prophet also points out that these wheels can move in any direction (1:17).

God’s throne has wheels. It’s mobile. What’s that all about?

These weird angels and their rolling royal throne show up again in chapters 10 and 11. God’s glory, God’s presence, has been dwelling in Jerusalem (8:4). It’s been that way since King Solomon first dedicated the Temple back in 1 Kings. But, as Jerusalem’s destruction looms, Ezekiel witnesses the glory of the Lord moving away from the Temple (10:18-19) and out of the city (11:22-23).

God left. The Lord’s throne is mobile, and it just rolled right out of town.

So, what, when the going gets tough, the Lord gets going? Is that what the wheels are for? So, when God can’t stand the heat, God can get out of the kitchen?

Actually, it’s just the opposite.

The Babylonians are going to conquer Judah, destroy Jerusalem, and carry off countless citizens into exile in Babylon. (Remember Daniel and his friends living in Babylon?) God’s people are about to have their lives shattered. They’re going to be separated from home, from family and friends, and from God, who lives back in Jerusalem.

Unless… unless God isn’t stuck in Jerusalem.

What if… what if God’s throne had wheels? What if God’s presence was mobile?

When the glory of God departs Jerusalem in Ezekiel 11, it says “the glory of the Lord ascended from the middle of the city, and stopped on the mountain east of the city.” (11:23)

The wheels could move in any direction, but the Lord’s headed east. Why?

That’s the direction of Babylon. When the people are taken from their homes and carted off east, their Lord will already be there waiting for them. They aren’t separated. They aren’t abandoned. They are accompanied by their God.

When your life is shattered, you are never abandoned or separated from the Lord. You are accompanied by your God. When the going gets tough, God doesn’t get going—God goes with you. If things are falling apart, and you’re looking around wondering, ‘Did God leave?’, maybe God’s just already gone on to the place ahead that you’re so afraid of, and is waiting to be with you there.

That wild vision in Ezekiel chapter 1, do you know where Ezekiel saw it? Chapter 1, verse 1: “as I was among the exiles by the river Chebar, the heavens opened, and I saw visions of God.”

The river Chebar is in Babylon.

And so was God.

You can listen to this devotional right here: