Memory

"My sin is ever before me." Psalm 51

In Psalm 51, David said, 'My sin is ever before me.' Sin holds no advantages. If it did, it would not stand in opposition to God. Nothing redemptive emerges from sin. The law, yes; sin, no. We should not exult in it, nor should we 'sin, that grace may abound.' Sin is the disfigurement of innocent beauty. It carves deep, unnatural wounds across the face of our souls, scaring us grotesquely. We sin by nature and by practice.

But David didn't remember every sin, did he? 'Sin' here is singular, so he obviously had 2 Sam 12 in mind. But not every sin of David's was before him, were they?

I once knew a dear Christian man named Bill Walsh, whose autism blessed him with an actual photographic memory. I remember paying him a visit to his urban apartment in Vancouver, where he lived alone. I knocked, and there was no answer. I knocked again, and the lock stuttered, followed by the door opening to two anguished, wet eyes staring at me from the dark. Though mid-day, stepping in, I noticed the curtains were drawn, their black borders glowing with dullened daylight. He would (not often) slip deeply into great depressive darkness. He would weep for days, eating nothing, drinking little.

As we sat together in the dimly lit one-room apartment, filled floor to ceiling with Puritans and old vinal operatic arias, he sobbed softly. I came to encourage him, but I had no words. Plus, I was a neophyte in grace compared to Bill. All I could do was listen as he grieved his unnamed tormentors.

"I can't forget my sin," he sobbed. "I remember each and every one of them. None escape me. ‘Deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy waterspouts: all thy waves and thy billows are gone over me’" he cried...as his brilliantly troubled autistic mind would break into a tear-filled aria of Psalm 42. He has a beautiful voice. At that moment, I could tell he had found a weeper's voice, and from that photographic memory fueled by a degree in Classical music, he seemed transported for a brief moment. Then, his weeping would resume. These valleys pocked his whole life as a believer.

Can you blame him for his depression? Can you imagine for a moment what it would be like to have, with no warning, your sins, 'big and little, ' parade themselves in an endless train of accusations before your inner eye? The guilt of sins we 'regulars' can recall is bad enough. Now, think of the guilt of each and every sin and then being exercised by it. One memory leads to another and another. I count it a blessing that I do not possess such a gift/curse as Bill's. The vast majority of my sins, I have forgotten. I count that as a blessing. It is, isn’t it? I still can't tell.

Modern neuroscience is discovering that our brains hold far more memories than we recall. For instance, in various studies, vivid memories once thought lost appeared in great detail when their temporal lobes were stimulated with gentle electric pulses. Vivid memories, too—like a mother calling her son or watching a shooting star as a child—emerge in stunning detail, much like old photos coming to life in three-dimensional color.

I have often wondered how the guilty could properly feel their guilt and the weight of all their sin on the day of judgment when the books are finally opened. Perhaps God will unlock everything tucked away in our minds, like Bill. Augustine called this the "vast palace of memory," suggesting our capacity to remember is far greater than we know.

Ecclesiastes 12:14 - "For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil."

How will this be possible?

There is a rare phenomenon known as (HSAM) Highly Superior Autobiographical Memory, wherein individuals can recall nearly every day of their lives with astonishing precision. Scholars who study those with HSAM have found that these extraordinary memories are not crafted through any unique mechanism. Rather, it appears that such individuals dedicate more time to the attentive reflection, processing, and mental rehearsal of their daily experiences, thus greatly enhancing their ability to summon these memories at will.

The link between our earthly memories and divine omniscience may initially seem inscrutable. Yet, if we accept that our memories are more than mere retrievals of past events—if they are a far more soulish engagement with the essence of our lives now past—then might we see a reflection of how the Divine remembers us? Just as some have to navigate their vast palaces and dungeons of memory, so too does the Divine Presence see the root and totality of our actions and intents, poised to bring all things to light in the fullness of time. I doubt there will be a big cosmic screen with “Your name”, and “Now Playing” blinking across it. I rather think it is quite possible that on the Day of days, the Holy Spirit will simply unlock that part in all of us that my dear friend Bill experienced. It will all wash across the sinner’s soul wave upon guilty wave.

If I ever knew a child of God, Bill was one. His faith, though tried, will forever remain an example to me. His depth of grief for sin was only outmatched by his love for His Savior. Bill, who remembered his sins like no one I've ever known, lived in the hope of redemption beyond the depression. He saw it for what it was —His cross, “My sin is ever before me.” To me, he was a model of imperfect faith that did not shy away from the reality of personal sin. Days and nights, he wrestled to embrace the grace that overcomes in Christ. Bill's deep waters show the truth that while our sins are many and our memories dark, there is a better way trodden by our Lord, whose atonement not only covers our sins but our memories of sins… and whose righteousness gives us a new mind, new life, and new memories.

As I ponder that great and terrible day when all will be laid bare before the throne of judgment, my heart finds solace in the assurance given through Isaiah—that though our sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow. By my sin being ever before me, I invite myself to see them all submerged under the blood of mercy.

We are urged to scrutinize our lives with hopeful self-examination, always Christward. The memory of Christ's finished work on the Cross must become more vivid than my memory of my sins. I need a clearer experience of Calvary, often becoming most vivid in the deep waters of guilt.

Jesus said in John 19:30, "It is finished." And it is. I can’t contribute by my guiltiness, nor erase judgment by tears. Therefore, I must believe the “It is finished” moment on the Cross, where the Sinless One bore the weight of every sin of mine and that in Christ...

Every darkness is lit.

Every wound is soothed.

Every burden is carried.

Every stain is cleansed.

Every chain is broken.

Every curse is undone.

Every storm is stilled.

Every debt is canceled.

Every wall is torn down.

Every path is straightened.

Every law is satisfied.

Every sin is redeemed.

Every door of grace is flung widely open.

In experiencing memory, I am invited to linger at the foot of the Cross, where my sin was slain. There, guilt met grace, and despair found hope—a robust and redemptive hope that anchors me in the truth of what Christ has accomplished.

Spirit of God,

...make my memory of Christ shine brighter than the darkness of my memory of my sin. Let His grace be the candle that lights every corner of my heart, dissolving the shadows of guilt and shame that linger. May His love, poured out on the Cross, overlay every memory of wrongs done and wounds inflicted.

...help me remember His mercy and forgiveness more vividly than the weight of my sin. Let His teachings guide my thoughts and actions, shaping my memories into new pathways of grace rather than reminders of failure. Help me to see myself through the lens of His sacrifice, where every scar of sin is beautified into a testimony of grace.

Spirit of Truth,

...illuminate my mind with the brightness of Christ's life. Let His promises settle deep within me, drowning out the whispers of doubt and despair. 

Spirit of Comfort,

...heal the wounds of past regrets and self-condemnation, filling each void with the assurance of Christ's unending love. Let the memory of His saving grace be a balm to my soul, soothing the ache of remorse and instilling a deep sense of peace. Make me to find solace in His redeeming wounds, forgiveness in His riven side, knowing His blood has washed away each stain.

Spirit of Renewal,

...transform my memory into a wellspring of gratitude and praise for the work of Christ. Let each memory of His goodness and faithfulness overwhelm me. Let my memory of sin spark a fire of new devotion and thankfulness within. May my memory of Christ be a constant reminder that 'He was forsaken, that we should never be forsaken of God.' 

And help me, Divine Comforter, know that

if my heart condemns me, God is greater than my heart, and knoweth all things. (1 John 3:20)