“Now write down this song and teach it to the Israelites and have them sing it, so that it may be a witness for me against them.”
Deuteronomy 31:19 (NIV)
I was scrolling through all the playlists in my Spotify music library the other day. I have a lot of them. I came across the playlist I’d made for my mom towards the bottom. This coming St. Patrick’s Day will be three years since we gathered to celebrate her heavenly homecoming. In a funny way, music became the last language my mother and I shared.
I made a short playlist of favorite songs from her youth. I and my siblings were taking turns caring for her while our dad was in the hospital, and I would play the list while we were in the car driving. Her Alzheimer’s was so advanced that by the time we got to the songs at the end of the playlist she had forgotten that we’d even played the songs at the beginning.
I drove and she sang repeatedly through the short playlist. She remembered every word of the lyrics even as she announced with every repeated song. “Oh! I haven’t heard this song in a long time. This is a ‘goldy oldy!'”
In her final days at the care center she would be visited in her room by music therapists.
“Do you know the the song…,” the therapist would ask.
Mom always shook her head.
Then she proceeded to sing right along with them.
In all of creation, God infused music with a secret super power. It embeds itself in our minds. It sinks into our souls. It attaches itself to memories. As soon as I hear the opening guitar riff of Long Cool Woman by the Hollies I am immediately transported to the summer of 1975. I’m in Cabin #3 at Camp Idlewood on a rainy afternoon listening to music on the 8-track with my sister and the other kids from the camp. I can see it. I can hear the laughter.
There’s just something about a song.
We’re in the homestretch of Deuteronomy. Moses has finished reminding the next generation of God’s Law. He’s written it all down so there’s a permanent record that can be read and remembered. He begins to pass the torch of leadership to Joshua.
“Wait a minute,” God says to Moses. It enters the moment almost like an interruption. “I want to give you a song, and I want you to teach it to all the people.”
Then God says, “It will be a witness for me against them.”
It’s easy to forget laws and regulations written on a scroll that only gets read every seven years.
A song embeds itself in the mind.
It sinks into the soul.
It attaches itself to memory in a way that even Alzheimer’s disease finds itself powerless to erase the tape.
“Give them a song,” God says.
He knows that in forty years when they’ve settled into the land their hearts and lives are going to wander. They will forget God. They will forget what He taught them through Moses. The song, however, will transport them immediately back to this moment on this day by the River Jordan. They’ll see the people assembled. They’ll be able to smell the river. They’ll feel the sun on their face.
God, Moses, Joshua, Torah, and covenant.
When my mother had forgotten my name, she still knew all the lyrics to Sh Boom (Life Could Be a Dream) by the Crew Cuts.
If you want someone to remember. Give them a song.
God did.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
