This past summer, my wife and I visited some close friends. Recently, they had shared with us that the wife had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and so we especially wanted to drop by to support them. 

After a good time together, we were standing by their back door about ready to leave, and they asked if we noticed any signs of Alzheimer’s. We really had not.

They replied that it was most evident in matters of short-term memory. “For instance,” said the husband, “if you ask her what she’s doing tomorrow, she won’t be able to tell you.”

“Well,” I quicly teased him, “That’s not fair, how is she supposed to remember the future. It hasn’t even happened yet.” We all chuckled.

But as we drove away, I started thinking. Actually, remembering the future is something Christians are called to do all the time. Rather than having our moods and our faith in God influenced only by what we remember in the past and what we’re experiencing in the present, we also need to remember the future God has in store for us.

Some of the things we can remember are the promises concerning the “new heavens and a new earth where righteousness is at home.” (2 Peter 3:13). It’s not the golden streets or the high walls that holds our attention, but the righteousness that flourishes there. 

• If you’re discouraged by rampant racism, remember the choir of praise awaiting us from every tribe, language, and nation (Revelation 7:9).
• If you’re groaning with creation under the weight of environmental destruction, remember the future tree of life, the river of life, and the lion laying with lamb.
• If you’re working hard to fight against hunger, poverty and disease, remember the coming kingdom where there is no sorrow, pain or death (Revelation 21:4).
• If it feels right now as if God is very hidden, even absent, remember the day we will see the Lord face to face. 

And it’s not just heavenly futures that we can remember. In the near-term, we remember that tomorrow, like today, will be a day that the Lord has made (Psalm 118:24). In spite of all our failures to be the person we want to be right now, we remember that the God “who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:6). When our hearts ache, we remember that God will work all things together for good for those who love him and are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28). 

That last verse is often maligned for papering over hard times with a sunshiny “have a nice day” smile. But if you read it in the context of all the groaning—in creation, in the lives of Christians, and even in the heart of God (Romans 8:22, 23, 26)—we might just realize that it’s simply good to remember that God is working though all of this.

Perhaps you’re wondering why I don’t just say, “we have hope for the future” instead of “we can remember the future. That would be good and fitting too. Unfortunately, however, the word hope, at least in American English, has lost a lot of its value. Hebrews 6:19 says hope is supposed to be a “sure and steadfast anchor of the soul.” But today, most people use the word “hope” to signify merely wishful thinking, with not much confidence that it will happen.

That’s where “remembering the future” might help us out. To remember the future means that what God has promised is as good as done, that future is just as real as the past. Remembering the future might even be better than remembering the past, because, as we can all testify (even if we don’t have Alzheimer’s), our recollections of the past can get hazy and confused. But our recollections of the future which God has spoken to us will only get clearer as we go.

In the Reformed Church in America’s liturgy for the Lord’s Supper, there is a marvelously brief “meaning of the sacrament.” I’m told it was written by Howard Hageman as part of the Commission on Worship Commission in the 1960s. It’s a very time-based exposition of the Lord’s Supper, referring to it as a feast of remembrance, of communion, and of hope. We remember what Jesus did for us in the past, having communion with Jesus in the present, and looking forward in hope to when Jesus’ kingdom comes in its fullness—and we do this together as the people of God

I have always appreciated this way of describing the Lord’s Supper, and I’m glad to keep using it. But my ruminations about remembering the future got me thinking that in a sense, all three tenses are about remembering. Remembering the past deeds of Jesus is the most obvious of the three tenses.

What about remembering the present? That’s also needed because we get so easily distracted in the present. “When will the service end? What are we going to eat for dinner? I wonder why attendance is low today.”  If we don’t remember the present presence of Jesus in our midst, we might miss him. 

And communion is also about remembering the future. We remember the coming feast of love. We remember the kingdom of God that’s coming in its fullness. We remember that we shall behold Jesus and be made like him in his glory. We remember the future fondly. 

In 2 Corinthians 2:9-10 we hear Paul quote from Isaiah 64:4, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him.”

I think we often misunderstand that passage. We read it and immediately think it is telling us that we have no idea of the future God has for us. But we do have an idea.

I say that because right after speaking of this inconceivable future, Paul adds, “these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit.” Because of God’s revealing work, we can remember the future, even though it has not yet happened.

Photo by Filip Rankovic Grobgaard on Unsplash