“Forgetting those things which are behind, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”

(Philippians 3:13-14)

You have heard of tying a string round your finger to be sure to remember something important. Perhaps, on occasion you have even done this yourself. Well, my message to you this morning is designed to be a sort of red string around your finger to remind you to forget some things important for you to forget. Daily I am impressed with the importance of forgetting. Oh, it’s grand to have a good memory and to work hard at developing it; but it’s also necessary to have a good forgetter and to train it.

St. Paul knew all about this and worked at it himself. Listen to what he says: “Forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” The last part of this text is usually the portion emphasized — “the pressing on toward the mark”. The importance of the first thing St. Paul mentions — “forgetting those things which are behind is great”. For there are so many of us who don’t, and can’t, press on toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus because we can’t forget those things that are behind.

Well, what are those things which are behind that we ought to forget, that we must forget, if we are to press on? First of all, we need to forget those things that make people proud, whatever they may be, such as an illustrious family name and heritage, or past personal attainments and accomplishments. This is what St. Paul has chiefly in mind when he says: “Forgetting those things which are behind, I press on”, for he has just listed, here in his Philippian letter, his family pedigree and his personal religious record. “It’s pretty good, as far as family is concerned,” says Paul, “I was born of pure racial stock, a Hebrew of the Hebrews, of the tribe of Benjamin, Judaism’s most famous clan. As far as personal religious practices are concerned, I was circumcised the eighth day after birth in exact accordance with Hebrew ritual. I am a member of the Pharisaic sect, and I have been faultless in keeping all the commandments.” “But,” says Paul, “those things that were gain to me (those things I might take pride in), those I counted loss for Christ, and forgetting all these things which are behind I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”

There are some things we must forget if we are going to press on toward the mark of Christian discipleship, or for that matter, toward the mark of any worthwhile endeavor. Anything that makes for a proud spirit is the adversary of progress. The poor fellow who can never forget that his father or grandfather was an important personage, that he comes from a famous line, or that he himself did something big once upon a time, can’t press on because his mind and attention are always fixed upon the glories of the past.

Thornwalsen, the Danish sculptor, was one of the greatest geniuses and clearest intellects of Europe in his day. When engaged over his famous Vulcan, one of his friends said to him: “Now, you must be satisfied with this production.” “Alas” said the artist, “I am.” “Why should you regret it?” asked his friend. “Because I must be going downhill when I find my works equal to my aspirations.” And Hazlitt in his Table Talk, refers to an ingenious artist of his time who was heard to declare that if ever the devil got him into his clutches, he would set him to copy his own pictures.  Someone said of the great New Testament scholar, Dr. T. R. Glover, that he “carried his learning lightly” — he was not impressed with his own importance and wisdom, and this was a large part of his greatness. Forgetting the things that are behind in order to press on toward the higher mark — it must be done.

If you’ve done someone a kindness, forget it immediately. Don’t remember it minutely and bring up the deed later and confront the recipient of your beneficence with it in order to wheedle him into allowing you to have your way. Lloyd Douglass’ first popular novel celebrated the passing loveliness of doing kindnesses for others and never mentioning these to a soul — carrying out the Lord’s injunction of “not letting your right hand know what your left hand does.” Douglass called this The Magnificent Obsession, and so it is. ‘Tis the mark of a big, magnificent personality.

And by the same token, if someone has injured us, let us forgive and forget it. Let us not be among those who say: “I’ll forgive, but I can’t forget.” If we lock up in our house of memory an old injury, that thing will spread bitterness and hatred throughout the mansion of our soul. Dr. David Sime says that it is natural for us to forget the painful things and remember the pleasant, that human beings are just made that way. In writing of the blindness of his close personal friend, George Matheson, one of Scotland’s great ministers and scholars of the last century, Dr. Sime remarked:

“Dr. Matheson’s memories of the loveliness of the sea, clouds, sky, and of the earth in its seasons which now were shut out from him by his blindness, became idealized, and at times his talk of the visible universe was like that of a spirit, and always with emotion. It is the memory of pleasures and highest joys that alone lingers in the mind. Pain and suffering of intensest degree, when once over, as in toothache, neuralgia, colic, are, thank heaven, soon forgotten. So likewise, are disappointment, misunderstanding, persecution, failure.”

Certainly one of God’s mercies in His making human nature as He did, is the natural tendency He equipped us with to remember the pleasant and forget the painful — and yet it is possible for us to develop a perverted sort of keenness in memory, remembering the slights, the unkindnesses, the injuries done us. But this is dangerous, hazardous to our well-being. We had best cast such matters into the wastebasket of our forgetter, rather than carefully storing them away in the index file of our rememberer.

But most important of all we need to forget those things that are behind us which, if remembered, make us despondent — such things as old sins, long ago confessed and repented of, old mistakes and failures, old disappointments and opportunities long passed.

I know a poor soul who is tormented day and night by the memories of the sins of his youth, his early mistakes, his wasted opportunities and failures. His mind keeps going back and back to these, with the obvious result that he is incapacitated for the opportunities of the present. Worry and remorse demobilize his mind. Reliving in memory the old weaknesses make impotent his will. He is a slave to what has been — bound in the steel fetters of a misused memory.

The word of our God to all truly penitent hearts is: “I, even I, am He that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins … For I will forgive (thine) iniquity and (thy) sins I will remember no more.”

On a church bulletin board I saw this sermon topic: “The God Who Forgets”. That is my message today. It is the heart of the Christian gospel. We worship a God who forgives and forgets our confessed and repented sins. If God has forgiven and forgotten, why should we remember? Why should we needlessly bear the burden of anguish and remorse for sins, the guilt of which He has long since removed?

Frederick W. Robertson says that when Jesus came to His sleeping disciples in Gethsemane and said: “Sleep on now”, and then again a little later, “Rise up and let us be going”, He set forth two principles of human life we need to remember. His words, “Sleep on now,” contain the principle that the past is irreparable — that after a certain moment waking will do no good. After a certain moment, worrying, remembering past failures and mistakes, will accomplish nothing. So as far as the hope of altering the past, you may sleep on and take your rest. But Jesus’ words: “Rise up and let us be going” contain the principle of the available future, rich with unlimited possibilities for him who is ready to press on toward the mark, unburdened by those which are behind and should be forgotten.

King Christian X of Denmark, who died last April, was a noble old monarch, greatly beloved by his subjects. It is said that during the Nazi occupation of Denmark, Christian acted like his subjects. He wore clothes that had been mended over and over. On his horseback rides through the streets of Copenhagen he always went unattended, obediently stopping for all traffic lights. A Nazi officer once voiced his amazement that Christian should ride thus alone. “Who is really taking care of the King?” he asked a Copenhagen citizen. The heartfelt reply was: “We all are.” Christian of Denmark knew how to forget some things — he forgot his kingly rank and his devoted subjects saw in his humility the surest mark of his kingliness.

How often have we said in praise of some privileged or talented person: “Why, he’s as plain as an old shoe. No show or put on about him.” Why do we speak thus? Because he has forgotten, put out of his consciousness those things of nobility of birth, or accumulation of wealth, or acclaim of fame, or accomplishment — those things which are behind in his life or his family’s which some men have gloried in and which he might have gloried in, but didn’t — and his friends glory in his humility, “forgetting those things which are behind — the things that make a proud heart — press on!”

Yes, there are some things we all need to forget and none are more urgent for our well-being than to forget those things that are behind which, if remembered, make people bitter and hard, such as the little favors we have done for others, and the injuries others have done to us. It is equally important to forget both.

In the jargon of modern youth, life is saying, “Oh, forget it,” to the nagging mind that treasures up in memory the small kindnesses shown and the petty injuries received, and then recalls them as the motivation of present or future action.

But how to forget? By saying over and over: “I must forget that I really am quite an important person — I must forget it?” Why that is the way to remember. ‘Tis the same for our sins. To say: “I must forget my sins: I must forget that awful deed,” is the way to dwell morbidly upon them.

The only way to forget those things which are behind is to keep remembering Christ. There is no room for personal pride when we remember His glorious humility and magnificent courage. There is no room for dwelling morbidly upon our past sins when we remember Christ upon the cross, the all-sufficient sacrifice for all our sins. For us, like Christian in Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, the sight of the cross frees us from our burden of guilt and shame.

Here is seen, of course, our pressing need for daily prayer and daily scripture reading — that we may be delivered from the appalling littleness of the self-concerned, that we may learn, as Paul did, so to live that Christ liveth in us. Thus are we empowered to forget ourselves into glory. “How carefully and prudently most men pick their way into nameless graves, while now and then a few forget themselves into immortality.”

“Therefore, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto these things which are before, let us press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”

• Scripture Reference: Philippians 3:1-15 • Secondary Scripture References: n/a • Subject : Forgetting; Regret; 628 • Special Topic: n/a • Series: n/a • Occasion: n/a • First Preached: 7/6/1947 • Last Preached: 1/31/1988 • Rating: 2 • Book/Author References: Table Talk, William Hazlitt; , Dr. David Sime; Pilgrim”s Progress, John Bunyan; , Frederick W. Robertson; The Magnificent Obsession, Lloyd Douglass