Between 1929 and 1950, neuropsychologist Karl S. Lashley pursued one of the boldest questions in brain science: where is memory stored? He did this through systematic lesion studies in animals, concluding that discrete memory traces (engrams, a term earlier coined by Richard Semon, 1904) could not be localised to a single cortical spot. Instead, learning depended on mass action (the amount of cortex available) and equipotentiality (intact regions could substitute for damaged ones), a position crystallised in his classic 1950 essay “In Search of the Engram.” Lashley’s work (1929; 1950) challenged strict localisationism associated with earlier figures like Paul Broca and influenced a generation of thinkers who refined and, in some cases, corrected his conclusions. Most notable of these were Donald O. Hebb (1949), who proposed synaptic plasticity as the mechanism of learning; Edward C. Tolman (1948), who demonstrated cognitive maps; and Wilder Penfield, whose cortical stimulation studies illuminated memory’s experiential qualities. Together, these studies shifted neuroscience toward distributed, network-based models of mind. From a Christian and theological perspective, Lashley’s findings resonate with the Biblical vision of the human person as an integrated whole rather than a set of isolated parts (Psalm 139:13–16; 1 Corinthians 12:12–27), echoing the doctrine of imago Dei in which cognition, embodiment, and community are inseparably woven by God. The brain’s resilience and plasticity can be read as a reflection of Divine providence and renewal (Romans 12:2), while the limits of localisation caution against reductionism that overlooks soul, meaning, and moral agency (Matthew 22:37). Practically, Lashley’s legacy supports personal wellbeing by grounding hope in recovery, learning, and rehabilitation after injury, and it promotes societal health by encouraging educational systems, mental-health care, and justice practices that recognise human adaptability, interdependence, and dignity.