Psalm 136 might strike you in that way. After every line, a phrase is repeated: "His love endures forever." A wonderful truth, but by the time you've read it 26 times it perhaps begins to lose a little of its lustre. And in that psalm it almost seems to hinder the flow of the words as they retell the story of creation and then of Israel's deliverance from Egypt and the victory over their enemies in the wilderness. Why construct the intrusion? Why not just start and end the psalm with the phrase? We'd be sure to get the point.
But maybe we wouldn't. Maybe we'd fail to see just how necessary and nourishing repetition is to our souls. That every moment of every day is undergirded by this reality. The spiritual discipline of rehearsing the goodness of God, of counting your blessings and naming them one by one, is not merely human advice. The pattern for the practice is firmly established in scripture and it is one we do well to embrace for ourselves.
This tells us something about how we're created and how our minds function. That truth repeated can become truth embedded. That its borrowed lines burrow their way into our hearts and minds and adhere there, retaining their Spirit-given ability to strengthen and sustain.
Proof for that is dramatically portrayed and offered to us as Psalm 136 closes its doors of praise and Psalm 137 opens in lament. After the final declaration that "His love endures forever", we are faced with these devastating words: "By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion." When it seems like the end of days has come, when the sky has fallen in, the echoes of the earlier refrain still linger. Because not only do we need the reminder of the love of God as we recount history, we also need it in the maelstrom of present sufferings too.
Let's not fail to see that the psalms are placed as they are for our instruction and our consolation. The agonies of Babylonian captivity are immediately preceded by the affirmation of the loyal love of the Lord that will never be terminated. His steadfast, saving love will outlast all the trials of time. It cannot be wrenched from us by the severest of circumstances, nor the cruellest of enemies. It cannot be torn from us by our own foolish capitulation to sin's deceitfulness - Romans 8:38,39 assures of us of that in the most emphatic terms. This is, indeed, love that reaches deeper than depths of self-despair.
Truth that is received and carved into our souls through regular rehearsal is truth that is ready to help us address the sorrows and the struggles of the darkest of times. It doesn't insulate us from them but it does offer insight within them - the breaking of the first light of dawn into the gloom of our lamenting, a shelter within the eye of the storm and the promise of a future that is inviolable.
We might not immediately read the repeated lines of scripture with relish but the wisdom of doing so is beyond doubt. And won't be regretted.
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O teach me what it meaneth,
That cross uplifted high,
With One, the Man of Sorrows,
Condemned to bleed and die!
O teach me what it cost Thee
To make a sinner whole;
And teach me, Saviour, teach me
The value of a soul!
O teach me what it meaneth,
That sacred crimson tide,
The blood and water flowing
From Thine own wounded side.
Teach me that if none other
Had sinned, but I alone,
Yet still Thy blood, Lord Jesus,
Thine only, must atone.
O teach me what it meaneth,
Thy love beyond compare,
The love that reacheth deeper
Than depths of self-despair!
Yes, teach me, till there gloweth
In this cold heart of mine
Some feeble, pale reflection
Of that pure love of Thine.
O teach me what it meaneth,
For I am full of sin,
And grace alone can reach me,
And love alone can win.
O teach me, for I need Thee,
I have no hope beside—
The chief of all the sinners
For whom the Saviour died!
O infinite Redeemer!
I bring no other plea;
Because Thou dost invite me
I cast myself on Thee.
Because Thou dost accept me
I love and I adore;
Because Thy love constraineth,
I’ll praise Thee evermore!
(Lucy Ann Bennett, 1850-1927)
