Memory Lane, Psalm-Style
Today I read 2 Kings 19 along with Psalms 46, 80, and 135. What caught my attention most was something simple: the repetition of old stories. Psalm 135, in particular, devotes several verses to retelling past events—how God rescued Israel from Egypt, defeated kings, and gave the land to the people of Israel. These aren’t new stories. They’re ancient even in the context of the psalm. And yet, the writer returns to them.
The Greatest Hits of Divine Intervention
Psalm 135:8-12 says, “He struck down the firstborn of Egypt, both people and animals. He performed miraculous signs and wonders in Egypt against Pharaoh and all his people. He struck down great nations and slaughtered mighty kings ... He gave their land as an inheritance, a special possession to his people Israel.”
Why retell all this? The psalm could have been purely about present praise. Instead, it builds that praise by digging into collective memory. There’s something going on here about identity, about who the people are and where they come from. This isn’t a private spiritual reflection. It’s national history being preserved in song.
Old Stories, New Tensions
There’s also a contrast between memory and the present. In 2 Kings 19, Jerusalem is under real threat from the Assyrian Empire. The situation feels uncertain. Hezekiah, the king, is desperate. But he, too, turns to older truths. He prays, “You alone are God of all the kingdoms of the earth. You alone created the heavens and the earth” (2 Kings 19:15). That’s not just a statement of faith—it’s a reminder, a kind of mental anchoring in a story they already know.
This repetition makes me wonder about the role of memory in collective survival. In moments of crisis or change, people often go back to stories they’ve told a hundred times. Sometimes it's to feel grounded. Other times it may be to make sense of what's happening now. Is there a human need to create continuity between past and present, even when the circumstances seem completely different?
Idols, Icons, and the Original Narrative
Psalm 135 also draws a sharp line between the God of Israel and the idols of other nations. Verse 15 says, “The idols of the nations are merely things of silver and gold, shaped by human hands.” Then, it describes them as lifeless: they have mouths but cannot speak, eyes but cannot see. It's another act of comparison rooted in memory. The argument is, essentially: We remember what our God did. What have these other gods done?
It’s not difficult to see how this kind of storytelling becomes a form of cultural resilience. Whether or not one believes in the supernatural elements, the act of recounting shared experiences—especially moments of perceived deliverance or triumph—helps a community hold together. Psalm 135 isn't just a song of praise; it's a rehearsal of identity. In uncertainty, people return to what they think they know. Not because it answers everything, but because it reminds them who they are.