To be remembered is a blessing. To be forgotten a curse. Moses and others reminded God of promises made. God remembered the covenant made with Abraham and saved the people of God.
Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.
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I've been in my current job for five years now. As is common in this world today, there has been some turnover in personnel in this time. One day, I was in a meeting and as I looked around the room, I realized I was the one who had been there the longest. Suddenly, I realized I was the holder of the "institutional memory," at least at that moment, in that room. I knew the stories for why something was done a certain way or why a particular change had been made in a procedure. But I could only go back so far. Five years is not a very deep or rich institutional memory.
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The church is an institution with a long memory, stories handed down from generation to generation. Not only the stories of scripture, but also stories of the "saints who have fallen asleep" and the saints who are still among us. Sometimes, we lose some memory---like who decided on that color for the parish hall walls---but the important things tend to remain.
Today, I'm thinking about this deep and rich memory we, as the Body of Christ, hold. The collective history is full of wisdom, explanations, and not a few cautionary tales. Sometimes, the memory will make us laugh, other times cry, another time still cause us to pause in wonder, awe, and reverence.
Today, I'm thinking about this deep and rich memory we, as the Body of Christ, hold. The collective history is full of wisdom, explanations, and not a few cautionary tales. Sometimes, the memory will make us laugh, other times cry, another time still cause us to pause in wonder, awe, and reverence.
Jesus, remember us. Held in memory we move forward.
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