Whose Faith Follow

All too often we remember the things we should forget, and forget the things we should remember. God is different, he doesn’t forget—He chooses not to remember.

Whose Faith Follow

This is something that occurred to me in the shower this morning. Normally, when this happens I keep telling myself I need to remember when I get out of the shower, and then I get busy doing what comes next in the day, and it’s long forgotten. Today was clearly different. Not only did I remember, I went and read what made me think about this in the first place. Hebrews 11 talks about people of faith, who didn’t get to see the fulfillment of their faith in their lifetime. In my personal life, and perhaps yours, you’ve had moments where your faith sustained you. You might in those moments feel closer to God than you have at other times. But there are also times when you know you’ve blown it—where you’ve wondered how God could still love you.

It really comes down to Jesus. Jesus lived the perfect life I could never live, and died a death that I deserved, then rose from the dead because He had paid the price God demanded for my sin. God doesn’t love me because I’m perfect. He loves me because He loves His Son, and Jesus paid my debt. Now, I love, not because I’m great at loving, but because Jesus first loved me.

So what does all of this have to do with faith and remembering, and have I forgotten about Hebrews 11? I’m glad you asked! The people credited with faith in Hebrews 11 were not perfect. In fact it looks like God forgot what kind of characters the people were. To read Hebrews 11, you’d think Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, and Moses only had faith—no fear, no failure, no sin! The only person on the list that there’s a hint of anything untoward is Rahab being identified as “the prostitute.” 

I’m going to try and connect this to something that we can each apply today. I need to remember the price that Jesus paid for me. That’s important, because if I don’t instead of looking for the faith in others, all I see are their flaws. When I realize that I fall short and need Jesus, it’s easier to be more like Jesus. Because of Jesus, God chooses not to remember. He chooses to notice the things His followers do in faith. Instead of reminding us of our failures, He chooses to see His Son, Jesus, who paid the price I could never pay. He now clothes me with His righteousness, so that’s all He sees. I’m the one that keeps on remembering more and more ways I fail. Here’s the question though. If God chooses not to remember, why do I? If it keeps me humble, and if it helps me find the faith in others, instead of their failure, then perhaps it’s good to remember—at least until I trade in this body for one like Jesus’ body. 

On that day, the measure of one’s life will be what’s done in faith. How does your life measure up?