We need reminders. We stick Post-it notes on our desks and refrigerators, write notes in our journals, and set alarms for important events or meetings. In fact, our iPhones are so smart that they dedicate an App for reminders (if you didn’t know that, you’re welcome). But not only does experience tell us that we need reminders, which often and regretfully happens through forgetting, so also does Scripture. 

Yes, remembering is important. Rehearsed family stories, museums, statues, memorials, and books help us to remember our history, our story, and our identity. And it is especially true for God’s people. Psalm 105 says, 

Oh give thanks to the Lord; call upon his name; make known his deeds among the peoples!

Sing to him, sing praises to him; tell of all his wondrous works!

Glory in his holy name;
let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice!

Seek the Lord and his strength;
seek his presence continually! (vv. 1–4)

There are ten commands in these verses that involve worship, prayer, evangelism, missions, devotion, trust, and fellowship. But how are we to obey these commands? The answer is revealed in verse 5:

Remember the wondrous works that he has done, his miracles, and the judgments he uttered. (vv. 5)

Remember. Remembering is vital. Remembering and rehearsing remind us that what we do for God flows from what he has done for us. The call to worship and witness him (v. 1) flow from his saving works for us (v. 5). But how can we remember? This question is essential, for Israel’s history is full of commands to remember and failures to do it. And their sinful forgetfulness led to their judgment and exile. 

Now, it’s easy to put ourselves in Israel’s shoes and try to live our lives from their position. We can live as though we’re under the old covenant and focus entirely on God’s commands and our doing instead of God’s grace and his doing. Yes, we may plug into the equation that Jesus died to forgive us of our sins, but live as though the rest is up to us. “Just obey.” “Just remember.” “Just do it.” But this thinking is both wrong and spiritually dangerous. 

Thankfully, in Christ God supplies what he commands. This wonderful truth is captured in legendary words of John Bunyan (though they probably came from someone else!):

Run, John, and work, the law commands,
yet finds me neither feet nor hands,

But sweeter news the gospel brings,
it bids me fly and lends me wings!

To adapt to serve our purposes:

Remember, John, the law commands,

Yet gives me neither feet nor hands,

But sweeter news the gospel brings,

it gives the Spirit and helps me sing.

So what does the gospel bring? It brings a better covenant made on better promises because of a better Savior. It is “good news” because in the new covenant, we get Christ. All of him—his life, obedience, righteousness, death, resurrection, burial, ascension and session are ours (Rom 6; Eph 2). In receiving him by faith, he is our wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption (1 Cor 1:30). In him we are dead to sin, raised with him, and seated with him in the heavenly places. In him we are not simply forgiven the penalty of sin, but also freed from the power of sin through the Spirit who raised him from the dead and now dwells in us (Rom 8:9-11). And now, because of our new life in Christ, and the Spirit’s resurrection life in us, he supplies, strengthens and secures what we need—even our need to remember. God graciously gives what he commands!

This is part of what Jesus meant when he spoke these words to his disciples, “But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you” (John 14:26). While this remembrance directly applied to his disciples and has been fulfilled in writing of the New Testament, which “tells of all his wondrous works,” by the Spirit he equips and empowers his disciples everywhere to remember his words and works. Indeed, no longer are his words written on tablets of stone, but on our very hearts (Jer 31:33). So in Christ we want to, can, and will remember what our hearts possess by faith—Christ and all his wondrous words and works.

As a result, the Christian life involves a kind of spiritual geography. It is a life of remembering by the Spirit, or a spiritual remembering, our true location, identity, activity, belonging, family and home. For example, it means that when we are lonely, we dwell upon the vast assembly of heavenly saints, and brothers and sisters in Christ at Providence, and say, “that is my family.” It means that when we are weary with grief or pain, we anticipate the renewal of the new creation—yes, even our very bodies—and say, “that is my comfort and hope.” It means that when we are empty or discouraged, we meditate on the glory of the resurrected and seated Christ in heaven and say, “that is my inheritance.” It means that when we are afraid, we soak our minds and hearts with the strength and stability of all that is ours in Christ and say, “every word of God proves true; he is a shield to those who take refuge in him” (Prov 30:5).

I remember David Powlison once saying, 

What one thing about God in Christ speaks directly into today’s trouble? Just as we don’t change all at once, so we don’t swallow all of truth in one gulp. We are simple people. You can’t remember ten things at once. Invariably, if you could remember just one true thing in the moment of trial, you’d be different. Bible verses aren’t magic. But God’s words are revelation of God from God for our redemption. When you actually remember God, you do not sin. The only way you ever sin is by suppressing God, by forgetting, by tuning out his voice, switching channels, and listening to other voices. When you actually remember, you actually change.

So by his Spirit remember, and by his Spirit be changed. “For we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit (2 Cor 3:18). Now that’s something to remember.