Holding On in the Chaos: A Secular Glimpse at Psalm 119

Psalm 119 is long. At 176 verses, it sprawls across the page with repetition, structure, and an intensity of focus that feels almost obsessive. Every single verse references a word for instruction: law, decree, precept, command, word, promise. And woven through all that structure is a kind of emotional longing that's hard to ignore.

Reading Without the Lens of Faith

Reading it today, I wasn’t looking for theological meaning. I was just trying to understand the human impulse behind it. What drives someone to write this way—to cling to rules and teachings with such fervor? There’s something in it that feels very old and very human: the search for something solid to hold onto.

When Structure Becomes Survival

In modern terms, it might read like an anchor in a world that feels chaotic. The writer of this psalm doesn’t just reference guidance occasionally; they return to it again and again, like a mantra. There’s comfort in the repetition, maybe even a kind of self-soothing. When everything feels unpredictable, fixating on the certainty of words, laws, or traditions might offer a sense of control.

This Isn’t a Hallmark Card

And it’s not blind obedience, either. There are verses filled with frustration and pleading. "I am laid low in the dust; preserve my life according to your word." "My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word." This isn’t calm reflection—it’s desperation. But not the hopeless kind. It reads more like someone reaching for a lifeline they’ve convinced themselves must be there.

A-Z Anxiety Management?

I don’t relate to the language of statutes and commands in my own life. But I do understand the appeal of having something consistent. A text you can return to. A framework for decision-making. A rhythm for your thoughts. Even the structure of the psalm—organized by the Hebrew alphabet in sections—suggests a desire to make sense of life from A to Z.

The Human Need for Something That Stays Put

Maybe this is one reason people turn to tradition, religion, or routine in uncertain times. It’s not always about belief in a higher power. Sometimes it’s just the longing for stability, for something that doesn’t move when everything else does.

Not a Sermon—Just a Survival Strategy

I don’t know what the original writer was going through. But I can see the contours of a very human experience in their words: trying to stay upright in the middle of a shifting world. And doing that by holding onto whatever felt trustworthy. In their case, that was "the word."

We all have our versions of that—books, principles, routines, mantras. Not because they solve everything, but because they give us something to return to. Something that helps us keep our footing.