Golfers have wonderful memories, they can remember in detail a round of golf played a week ago, 10 years ago, or 40 or 50 even 60 years before. They can see the ball arc perfectly into the sky as they play over in their mind their own hole-in-one. Or they can see the hole Ron Krueger played, how he drove the green on a par 4 and then made a tricky side-hill down-hill 12 foot putt for an eagle 2. Two shots that stand out for me are one on a par 3, the other on a par 5. The 1st shot was a hole-in-one. It was exciting to watch the ball soar and then walk up to the cup and pull the ball out for a 1 on the scorecard. The 2nd shot was the 2nd on a par 5, a 2 iron that was struck perfectly, flying on to the green from 220 yards away; then rolling just over the edge of the cup, coming to rest an inch past–only a ball width away from a double eagle! Both of these shots were 25-30 years ago and I can still see the balls soar toward the green as clearly as the day they were fluidly struck by the iron club heads.
What stands out to the golfer are those times when muscle, brain, and technique worked together in such a way that a nearly flawless event occurred of their own making. The shots that a golfer recalls so easily are the ones that seemed to be beyond an individual’s capacity to bring about. It took one to a level of achievement rarely envisioned or dreamed about. And the true golfer can remember these shots and repeat the stories about them with obvious relish and delight to anyone foolish enough to listen!
Well, God’s church has a great memory as well. The church holds certain events and words in such wonder and awe that they do not fade or grow old. The events that describe Jesus’ life and death from 2000 years ago are grasped and held with the fervor of a golfer relieving his or her nearly flawless efforts. That is why when the pastor takes the bread and wine, the church itself leans forward to be part of the recitation of the familiar words, “On the night in which he was betrayed…”, word by word, step by step, the awesome act of Jesus offering his body and blood is embraced and thrilled to by the gathered congregation. It is as if this flawless gift of God arcs through the ages to settle once more in the hearts and minds of each believer, bringing forgiveness of sin, life and salvation. For when the words are said, Jesus Christ himself comes to bring his sacramental presence to the midst of the people of God.
And furthermore God also has a great memory that he brings to his people. He remembers how the pain of sin invaded their life. He remembers the years of exile, the aimless wondering of his lost sheep. He remembers with flawless precision just how far away his people are from him. And above all he remembers his covenant promises. He can’t forget how he pledged himself to be their God, to Abraham and Isaac, to David and Solomon, to exiles in captivity, to the people who sat in darkness. He remembered his promise, “to bring good news to the poor,” “to proclaim release to the captives,” “to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
God’s memory is above all full of grace and mercy. Just as a golfer can forget 1,000 bad shots for the sake of one good one, so God’s memory has been graciously selective, remembered for the sake of Jesus Christ the forgiveness of sin. So thank God today for the window of wonder, the memory of the church as it gathers to celebrate the Lord’s Supper. So, today, another window is opened to God’s merciful memory that makes all other memories meaningful and significant.
So not only do golfers have great memories, but the church and our God do as well. I still hold on to the memory of a hole-in-one and a near double eagle, but I will hold most firmly to the great remembrance and presence of the Risen Lord in the center of God’s memories, both now and 2,000 years ago. It is this wonder to which the people of God turn over and over again. It is this window of wonder that opens to a vision of God’s enduring faithfulness and love. It is this wonder that lives with us now and forever.
Pastor Dale Halverson
