When we left the Israelites, God was in the middle of doing something miraculous for them. The chapter breaks in your Bible are not part of the original text; they were a help added later for reference, just like page numbers. But it’s helpful to treat this part of the story separately because even though it’s a continuation of the same miracle, the emphasis is on something completely different: remembering.

I confess my performance in Hebrew was not my best, but I do remember a few things from class, and one of them was the importance of memory and remembering in the Old Testament and for the Jewish people. Over and over again God does miracles for His people, but quite often He also includes instructions to remember.

For example, the Passover miracle was a one-time thing. It was the night that God sent the worst plague on Egypt, killing the firstborn sons in each family. But He made provision that anyone who covered their doorposts with the blood of the lamb would be saved. So God passed over those who responded in faith to God’s instructions.

But this important miracle was to be remembered every single year since then. There are detailed instructions about what to make, how to make it, and what to do. And as is so often the case, God includes explicit instructions for teaching their children: when they ask you, this is what you say.

So the celebration of the Passover is a way of protecting and practicing the memory of the event, and a way of instructing those who do not know. It is teaching others and also a kind of self-teaching.

There were other times God’s people were to remember what He had done. As mentioned before, the Ark of the Covenant contained manna and a budding staff as a testimony to the miracles God did in the wilderness. But in this scenario, instead of instituting a feast that will be practiced every year or collecting an artifact to be guarded, God commissions a monument.

One of the cool things about this choice is that it signifies that they aren’t going anywhere. They can set up a monument because future generations will be in the same land, able to see it. After 40 years of wandering, this had to be an exciting thought.

And Joshua actually has them make two monuments: one with large rocks (carried on the shoulder) from the riverbed, arranged at their military camp in Gilgal, and another with rocks from dry land arranged in a monument on the riverbed itself. I imagine the water rocks were smooth and the land rocks were not. For a long time, then, that had to be a captivating picture.

The text tells us that when this story was finally written down, the stones were all still there, available for the reader to go see. I haven’t checked, but I highly doubt they are still there over 3,000 years later. Too many things could have happened since then. So in a sense, the rock monument was for them, not for us. But it’s recorded in Scripture for our benefit. More on that in a minute.

What’s important is not that we have historic artifacts to go back and verify that the Bible is true. The findings of archeology can only do so much, and it would be wrong to hold the testimony of the Israelite people at a distance until we can verify it through scientific methods. Testimony is just as valid a source of truth. We must take what we can from both.

Testimony and memory are closely intertwined, and maybe it’s here that we are tempted to have our doubts. We know there are liars out there, but most of us aren’t as jaded as Greg House (whose famous catch phrase was “everybody lies”). I suspect most of us who feel skeptical simply recognize our limitations. Sometimes we forget things. Sometimes we compare notes with someone else who was there and find out it’s not so simple. One or both of us may be misremembering.

Research tells us that when we remember something, we are not just retrieving a file, but we are rewriting it. And in the process, we may introduce errors. What a scary thought! The act of remembering at once strengthens the memory and exposes it to risk. But we can’t protect memories by never calling them up. This causes us to lose touch with them in other ways.

Then, of course, there is the added problem of testimony: miscommunication. How many times have you thought you understood what someone else said only to find out later that’s not what they meant? It’s acceptable when the person is accessible and you can give feedback and verify and tweak the message until you’re on the same page.

Despite the weaknesses of memory and testimony, they can be a valid source of knowledge. Just think how totally lost you would be if you tried to get by without them! If you never trusted someone else’s testimony, your parents couldn’t raise you. You couldn’t learn to read. And sadly, we know what life can look like without memory as we see loved ones taken by dementia.

Testimony and memory and an essential part of being human. Despite the risks, it’s good to listen to others, and it’s good to practice remembering. And perhaps because of the weaknesses, God had the Israelites construct the monument. It would be a physical aid to memory. It would conjure the testimony and strengthen the memory through repetition. Even the most important things can use some help.

Perhaps especially the most important things.

I think of my wedding ring, for example. Most days I don’t even notice it. I spend far more time interacting with my wife! Our marriage shapes our relationship and our lives on a daily basis. And yet even for something so foundational, I have this little physical memory aid. When I do notice it, I remember what she had etched on it. I remember how she struggled to get it on my finger on that hot summer day. I look at it when she’s not here and it reminds me of the person who gave it to me, what that meant, and all we have been through together. Of course, it doesn’t bring back all of this every time, but it’s an invitation to any of these things. And even under ideal circumstances, where we are together and happy, what a blessing it is to have it.

I mentioned how the rock monument isn’t for us, but the text is. In some ways, the text of this story is itself the new monument. We are given something physical to remember what God did for the Israelites. We may not see the stones for ourselves, but we can hold the pages of the story in our hands and remember what God did for His people. And this story about the stones reminds us that we, too, need to practice remembering the most important things.

If the only monuments in your life are of you and your family and your achievements, take heed; these are good things, but life is bigger than that. What monuments do you have of God and what He has done? Is Thanksgiving and Christmas about your possessions or the generous God who gave them? Are your walls and storage boxes sanitized of God’s influence on your life? Do you treat the pages of the Bible as a series of monuments to be talked about and remembered?

Finally, don’t just keep these monuments to yourself. Remember them aloud, together with your friends and loved ones. I am probably oversensitive to repetition. I generally prefer subtlety to heavy-handedness (unless we’re working on something together, then overcommunication is best!). But I need to learn that life together is a kind of project, one where we sometimes need to risk overcommunicating what is most important to help one another remember.