"He decreed statutes for Jacob and established the law in Israel, which he commanded our ancestors to teach their children, so the next generation would know them, even the children yet to be born, and they in turn would tell their children."
"Hello Siri. Show me the law of God."
"Then they would put their trust in God and would not forget his deeds but would keep his commands."
"Okay Google. What was the exodus?"
"They would not be like their ancestors--a stubborn and rebellious generation, whose hearts were not loyal to God, whose spirits were not faithful to him. (Ps. 78:5-8)"
The practice (art?) of remembering seems to be a relic of the past, relegated to the dustbin of outdated cultural practices. With the advent of the smartphone came instantaneous access to information that has no parallel in history. Don't remember that Bible verse? Simply look it up on Google. Cannot recall that event? Check it on wikipedia. Struggling to bring those instructions to mind? Search for them on Bing (wait, that's not right, nobody uses Bing...I digress).
And while having such unfettered access to information can be a exciting prospect and liberating experience, it also comes with unintended consequences that have a tremendous bearing on our faith.
Psalm 78 reminds us that throughout history, remembering has been important for faithfulness to God. The passing down of stories of God's mighty works and powerful words of promise were intended to instill this faithfulness in the next generation. Why? So that they would not follow in the path of their ancestors who frequently forgot to remember and strayed from God. And so the collective memory of the people of God was passed down from generation to generation through storytelling, memorization, and practice (liturgy).
The same is true for Christians throughout history. The liturgy served as a means of telling the story of God, His mission, and the gospel in the context of corporate worship. Furthermore, catechesis ingrained the truths and promises of God on the hearts and minds of children so that as they grew up among the covenant community, they would remember the Lord's deeds and keep his commands.
However, we are on a precipice today, looking over into the abyss that is the screen of our smartphones, tablets, and computers. No longer needing to remember--to embody truths, stories, and, calling--we become empty while having everything at our fingertips. To put another way, our devices cause us to "unstoried" beings whose primary (or perhaps sole) orientation is the present. And a people without a story, a people lacking an embodiment of history or a vision of the future are a people bound to forget their God, his works, and his ways. Such a people will become behold to, and enslaved by, the present, which can lead to all sorts of sinfulness (see 1-2 Kings, and a number of the Old Testament prophets).
This is why it is important to remember. To place oneself in the unfolding story of redemptive history. To memorize Scripture. To engage in the liturgy; that weekly practice in which we are reminded of, and further embedded in, the story of God's covenant people--one of creation, fall, redemption, and new creation. Recurring patterns of confession, assurance, proclamation, and commissioning help to offset the formative practice of swiping right and calling out to the disembodied beings within our devices for the answers to our questions.
It is easy to despair, disparaging the impact of modern technology on life and faith practice. Considering the low rate of biblical literacy today, and the growing indifference and non-religious identification of young people today, it is easy to imagine things only getting worse. Yet, I find it is equally easy to imagine renewal and reformation in our patterns, habits, and practices as we pass down the immeasurable riches of God's grace given to us in Christ to the next generation, so that they might put their trust in the Lord and follow his commands.
The question is: What does that future require of you in this present?