Preaching as Reminding

1. Without memory we are lost souls, and preaching is primarily an act of reminding.

without memory, we are lost souls. That is why the Bible is replete with statements, stories, sermons, and ceremonies designed to stir memory.

Memory is our mooring. The tragic story of Jimmie, a patient with Korsakoff’s syndrome who lost thirty years of his life to amnesia, illustrates that without memory, we lose our identity, our history, and our trajectory. We drift aimlessly in a chaotic present, unable to chart a course for the future. Preachers are called to be "the Lord's remembrancers"—a term coined by Lancelot Andrewes—whose primary task is not to invent novelties but to anchor the wandering soul to eternal truths.

The myth of novelty. Modern homiletics often pressures preachers to deliver original, never-before-heard insights, but this drive is a spiritual trap. True preaching is less about instructing people on what they do not know and more about fanning the flames of what they have forgotten. By bringing the "old, old story" back into focus, the preacher performs a vital act of soul-watching that protects the congregation from drifting away.

The fruits of reminding. When memory is successfully stirred in a congregation, it produces a cascade of spiritual transformations:

• It prompts deep thankfulness by counting past blessings.
• It raises hope in times of trial by recalling God's historical deliverance.
• It fosters humility and prompts genuine repentance.
• It forms a resilient communal identity in a secularized world.

2. Biblical remembrance is a whole-person activity of actualization and participation.

In the Bible, “remembering” is more than mental recall. It involves emotion and volition as well as cognition.

Active actualization. The Hebrew word zakar and the Greek mimnesko represent a holistic engagement of the human faculties. To remember in the biblical sense is to make the past dynamically present, allowing historical events to condition current decisions and future hope. It is not passive intellectual retrieval; it is active participation in the reality of the covenant.

Re-membering the dismembered. Life has a way of fracturing our identities and isolating our experiences, but biblical memory acts as a spiritual adhesive. It "re-members" what has been amputated, reuniting our minds, emotions, and wills with the living God. When we remember, we do not merely look back at a monument; we step into the narrative ourselves.

Whole-person response. The biblical commands to remember are always tied to immediate, concrete actions:

• Remembering the Sabbath means actively keeping it holy.
• Remembering the poor requires tangible acts of mercy and justice.
• Remembering leaders means imitating their faith and lifestyle.
• Remembering past slavery motivates showing compassion to others.

3. God's covenantal memory is our ultimate security, while His "forgetting" is our liberation.

Because he remembers his covenant and forgets the sins of his children, promising never to leave or forsake them, ministers take their stance as the Lord’s remembrancers, reminding the baptized that nothing shall separate them from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

Divine mindfulness. When the Scriptures declare that God "remembers," it signifies His sovereign favor, His covenantal faithfulness, and His active intervention on behalf of His people. God's memory is not a cognitive faculty that can be jarred or refreshed; rather, it is the emotional and volitional turning of His face toward us. Our ultimate hope does not rest on the tenacity of our own memory, but on the unshakeable memory of our Savior.

The grace of forgetting. Conversely, when God "forgets" our sins, He is not suffering from divine amnesia. Instead, He is making a volitional choice to no longer let our past rebellion condition His present relationship with us. Our sins are nailed to the cross, allowing us to experience a buoyant, guilt-free existence that is no longer haunted by past failures.

Covenantal assurance. This dual nature of divine memory provides the bedrock for Christian assurance:

• God's covenant is sealed with blood and can never be broken.
• He keeps count of our tossings and stores our tears in His bottle.
• He forgets our lawless deeds, removing them as far as the east is from the west.
• His discipline is an act of parental love, not retributive wrath.

4. Human forgetfulness is accelerated by brain biology, media saturation, and spiritual drift.

The problem of the human race is that we remember what we should forget... and we forget what we should remember.

Thick air and biology. C.S. Lewis warned that as we drop down from the clear mountain of spiritual clarity into the "thick air" of daily life, our minds become easily confused. Neurobiologically, our brains are wired to filter out 99 percent of sensory data through the reticular activating system, meaning we easily lose track of spiritual realities. Furthermore, our neural pathways—or engrams—naturally default to old, comfortable habits of thinking rather than maintaining fresh spiritual focus.

The digital distraction. Modern electronic media has exacerbated this biological tendency, creating a culture of "aliteracy" where we are addicted to speed and distraction. The constant barrage of sound bites, emojis, and rapid-fire information trains our brains to skim and scan rather than engage in deep, meditative reflection. We have vast storage capacities at our fingertips, yet we are losing the capacity to hold still and remember who we are.

The idol factory. Beyond biology and technology, the human heart is a natural "factory of idols" that actively chooses to forget God in times of prosperity. When we are comfortable, we easily fall prey to the illusion of self-sufficiency, whispering that our own hands have gotten us our wealth. To combat this drift, we must recognize the forces working against our memory:

• Biological decay and the fading of neural memory traces.
• Media-induced cognitive fragmentation and shortened attention spans.
• The deceitfulness of riches and the smothering cares of the world.
• The active temptation to look back at the "City of Destruction."

5. Biblical preachers—Moses, the prophets, and the apostles—were primarily "remembrancers."

One of most crucial functions preaching accomplishes, a function often neglected in homiletics textbooks, is the stirring of memory.

The prophetic pattern. Throughout redemptive history, God's spokespeople have spent far more time reminding His people of old truths than introducing new ones. In Deuteronomy, Moses delivered a massive farewell address that was essentially a sermon of remembrance, urging Israel to recall their slavery and deliverance. He masterfully conflated past and present generations, showing that the current audience was spiritually present at the Red Sea.

The apostolic echo. The prophets and apostles continued this metronomic cadence of reminding, constantly asking, "Do you not know? Have you not heard?" In the Epistles, Paul, Peter, and Jude explicitly state that their writing is intended to stir up sincere minds by way of reminder. They understood that the Christian life is built on the indicative of what God has done, which must be remembered before the imperative of what we must do can be obeyed.

Targeting the heart. Preaching as reminding is not a dry academic exercise; it is a direct assault on the "motivational structure" of the human heart. It seeks to awaken slumbering affections and align the mind, will, and emotions with the gospel. By doing so, the preacher helps the congregation experience "sacred time travel," making the cross and resurrection a present, life-giving force.

• Moses fused generations to show that all of God's people share one story.
• The prophets used memory to subvert the absolute claims of pagan empires.
• The apostles used the indicative-imperative structure to motivate holy living.
• Timothy was commanded to "remind them of these things" and "fan into flame" his gift.

6. Vivid style and concrete language rescue abstract truth from the "thick air" of familiarity.

Concrete language is more interesting than abstract language and is more likely to stir emotion because, as in the story of the Chinese king that opens this chapter, the audience can “see” the thing being described.

The power of vivacity. Drawing on the rhetorical theory of George Campbell, the author argues that style is not mere ornamentation, but a vital tool of persuasion. Abstract theological concepts like "grace" or "sovereignty" often slide off the mind like water on Teflon unless they are clothed in vivid, concrete language. By using words that spark the imagination, the preacher creates "presence," zooming in on the truth and making it impossible to ignore.

Verbs and nouns. The secret to a memorable style lies in the selection of strong, active verbs and specific, concrete nouns. Adjectives and adverbs cannot rescue weak, vague language; instead, the preacher must use words that the mind can easily translate into mental pictures. Because the human brain is a picture gallery rather than an encyclopedia, concrete words are far more easily stored and retrieved from long-term memory.

Rhythm and repetition. In addition to concrete imagery, oral communication relies heavily on the musicality of speech—rhythm, repetition, and parallelism. Unlike readers, listeners cannot pause or rewind a spoken sermon, so the preacher must use strategic redundancy to keep the main point in focus. When truth is delivered with poetic cadence, it penetrates the deep, inward places of the soul.

• Concrete nouns like "dagger" or "marshmallow" instantly spark mental images.
• Strong verbs like "wobbled" or "mauled" convey action without needing modifiers.
• Metaphors and analogies act as "generative" tools that birth new insights.
• Repetition and rhythm help engrave theological truths into the listener's memory.

7. Narrative and indirection bypass intellectual defenses to capture the heart's motivational structure.

Story clarifies abstract concepts, engages emotion and intuition, and lodges in long-term memory.

The narrative animal. Humans are essentially storytelling animals who experience reality in a narrative-like sequence of conflict and resolution. When a preacher says, "Let me tell you a story," the congregation's defenses drop, their attention sharpens, and their brains begin to process the information holistically. Stories do not merely illustrate a point; they are "depropositionalized arguments" that carry profound theological weight.

The art of indirection. One of the most powerful aspects of story is its capacity for indirection, as famously demonstrated by Nathan's confrontation of King David. By approaching a hostile or indifferent audience from an oblique angle, a story allows listeners to identify with characters and reach their own conclusions before the trap of truth is sprung. This "slant" approach to truth bypasses intellectual pride and speaks directly to the conscience.

Testimony and history. Preachers can draw from a rich well of narrative sources, including biblical retellings, personal testimonies, and church history. Sharing personal struggles and victories creates a culture of transparency and builds deep communal solidarity. When we retell the stories of our spiritual ancestors, we remind the congregation that they belong to a grand, ongoing metanarrative.

• Stories use conflict and resolution to satisfy the mind's desire for closure.
• Indirection allows listeners to collaborate in their own persuasion.
• Personal testimonies act as analogical windows into the Christian walk.
• Historical narratives like the martyrdom of Polycarp inspire heroic faith.

8. Embodied delivery and emotional contagion turn spoken words into incarnational reality.

preaching is incarnational. God has placed his Word in bodies so that we turn ink into blood.

The silent language. Delivery is the nonverbal channel of preaching, encompassing everything the audience sees and hears—gestures, facial expressions, eye contact, posture, and vocal variety. Because humans are biologically hardwired to read body language, the nonverbal channel is the primary conveyer of relationship and emotion. If a preacher's words proclaim joy but their face displays boredom, the congregation will instinctively believe the face.

Emotional contagion. Through the physiological mechanism of mirror neurons, emotions are literally infectious. When a preacher experiences genuine, heartfelt earnestness, the congregation's brains mirror those same emotional states, breaking through distraction and apathy. This is why the preacher must first be deeply stirred by the text before attempting to stir others; we cannot dispense what we do not possess.

Extemporaneous freedom. To maximize the power of nonverbal communication, preachers should strive to wean themselves from word-for-word manuscripts. Reading a sermon isolates the speaker, flattens vocal inflection, and destroys eye contact, turning the pulpit into a barrier. Extemporaneous delivery, guided by skeletal notes, allows for a natural, conversational, and highly engaging presentation.

• Mirror neurons cause the audience to physically empathize with the speaker's emotions.
• Universal facial expressions like happiness and sadness are recognized across all cultures.
• Video recording is an invaluable tool for identifying and correcting weak delivery habits.
• Extemporaneous preaching preserves the "electricity" of direct eye contact.

9. Ceremony, symbol, and the sacraments physically anchor the wandering soul to sacred time.

The minister’s primary means of reminding the faithful is preaching, using the rhetorical arts of style, story, and delivery, but we also use ceremony and symbol— liturgical arts—to keep the truth warm in heart and mind.

Sensory anchors. While preaching utilizes the spoken word to spark the imagination, ceremony and symbol engage our direct sensory experiences. In ancient Israel, the landscape was dotted with altars, and the calendar was structured around festivals like Passover to physically reinforce the covenant. By engaging multiple senses—taste, touch, sight, and smell—liturgical arts create a neuropsychological bridge that spans time and space.

The real presence. The sacraments of baptism and the Lord's Supper are the supreme ceremonies of remembrance given to the church. In the Eucharist, we do not merely engage in a dry memorial; we experience "kingdom time," where the past sacrifice of Christ and the future eschatological banquet collide in the present. These physical rituals rescue us from the modern spell of rationalism, reminding us of our true identity as the body of Christ.

Liturgical intentionality. Every element of a worship service—from the opening call to worship to the final benediction—should be treated as an intentional act of reminding. Public Scripture reading, corporate singing, and creedal confessions are not filler material; they are the means by which we actively "re-member" the congregation. When we pray, we must use the scriptural names of God to remind both ourselves and Him of His eternal promises.

• The Lord's Supper serves as a multi-sensory parable of Christ's broken body and spilled blood.
• Public Scripture reading must be executed with skill and preparation to stir the heart.
• Corporate singing lodges theological truths deeply into long-term memory.
• Public prayers should actively rehearse God's attributes to build faith.