The book of Amos begins, “The words of Amos, who was among the sheepbreeders of Tekoa… two years before the earthquake” (Amos 1:1). No one today knows exactly which year that was, but it was apparently an event well known to that generation. This is an example of how natural and man-made events mark time for us.
Even though my mother was not yet born at the time, stories of the 1906 earthquake and subsequent fire in San Francisco were well known to her. Our family had a figurine that had survived the fire—a memento of an event that had great meaning to my mother. Yet, today, barely a few are aware of the disaster that destroyed more than 80 percent of one of the best-known cities in the world, in which more than 3,000 people perished under rubble or in flames.
Many people living in the northwestern United States remember when Mount St. Helens in Washington state blew its top 45 years ago. Some people 300 miles away in British Columbia, Canada, still remember the roar of the explosion, which threw ash 80,000 feet into the air. For comparison, modern passenger jets generally fly at less than half that altitude.
My parents’ generation remembered Charles Lindbergh becoming the first to fly a non-stop solo transatlantic crossing from New York to Paris. He covered the 3,600 miles (5,800 km) in just over 33 hours between May 20 and 21, 1927. That was a major milestone, nearly 2,000 miles (3,200 km) farther than anyone had previously flown non-stop. Today’s jet aircraft, loaded with hundreds of passengers, fly from New York to Paris in about seven hours.
Pearl Harbor was another marker of time, as was D-Day, even for those of us who were not yet alive at the time. And who can forget where they were when Neil Armstrong first set foot on the moon—or, more recently, when they learned of the tragic 9/11 terrorist attacks? Even those not alive at the time are aware of those seminal events.
Many, especially those living in southern California, will long remember the fires of January 2025. Even as I write, the story is still being written in smoke and ashes. Lives have been lost and tens of thousands have been made homeless. Life in the Los Angeles area will never be the same. What happened is historic and will be a time marker, sharply dividing the affected areas by what they were like before and after.
However, time erodes our memories, especially when we are not personally touched by an event. How many people outside of Canada remember the Fort McMurray fire of 2016, in which 2,400 buildings burned down—many of them homes—and another 2,000 homes were declared unsafe? It was the costliest single disaster in Canadian history. And how many even today remember June 29, 2021, when the small community of Lytton, British Columbia, recorded the highest temperature ever in Canada at 49.6°C (121.3°F)—and when most of the town was destroyed by fire the following day?
One of the Greatest Marks in History
Yes, memories fade, especially when catastrophes do not touch us, or when great achievements are moved to the recesses of our minds as new ones grab our attention. That is what makes the Exodus remarkable. What happened then has not been forgotten, even after more than 3,000 years. Most children have some awareness of the Exodus account—though, sadly, many of this generation are not learning it. No matter what later time in biblical history you choose, that great event was never forgotten.
Israel was instructed 40 years later to remember that they had been slaves in Egypt and that God had led them out of that brutal enslavement (Deuteronomy 15:15; 16:3, 12). Even the inhabitants of Jericho remembered what God had done for Israel (Joshua 2:10). The Exodus was known throughout the period of the Judges (Judges 6:13). Gentiles knew the history of Israel, as did Jephthah (Judges 11:13–27). Samuel reminded the people of their ancestors’ journey out of Egypt (1 Samuel 12:6, 8).
We see that throughout the history of Israel, there were people who knew their history. There is reference to the Exodus from King Jehoshaphat (2 Chronicles 20:7–10). He is only one of the many kings who knew Israel’s history, to say nothing of the prophets, whose writings are full of references, as are the Psalms. We read in the New Testament that Stephen was well versed in Israel’s history, nearly 1,500 years after the Exodus (Acts 7:2–51). Paul was as well (Acts 13:17), and so was Jude (Jude 5). That singular event was never neglected by the Scriptures in a period of over 1,500 years—attested to by multiple individuals.
By contrast, how many under the age of 70 are familiar with the San Francisco fire? The eruption of Mount St. Helens is barely remembered today. The history of World War II is little known by recent generations—many of my own generation have remarkably little real comprehension of it! And what is the big deal that man landed on the Moon? Many conspiracists do not think it even happened, despite all evidence to the contrary.
Yes, years go by and one event fades into another. Some happenings are remembered for decades, and some are written in history for those who read about them. Dramatic events mark time as “before” and “after” the sudden moment that changes lives forever. The people of southern California will always remember a few days in January 2025—that is, until greater traumas come along. Those not touched directly by the fires will find its memory crowded out by catastrophes to come. Even those who lost homes may see those memories fade as fulfilled prophecies truly begin to rock this earth.
A Future Exodus
Just as one great event overwhelms earlier ones in our memories, so a future exodus will take front stage, at least temporarily. No, the lessons and history of Israel’s exodus from Egypt will not be forgotten, but they will be overshadowed by a future physical deliverance.
“Therefore behold, the days are coming,” says the Lord, “that it shall no more be said, ‘The Lord lives who brought up the children of Israel from the land of Egypt,’ but, ‘The Lord lives who brought up the children of Israel from the land of the north and from all the lands where He had driven them.’ For I will bring them back into their land which I gave to their fathers” (Jeremiah 16:14–15).
The Exodus of more than 3,000 years ago will not be forgotten. Through it, we learn about the Passover, which teaches us what it means to be covered by the blood of God’s sacrificial Lamb—Jesus Christ. The crossing of the Red Sea pictured our baptism, demonstrating not only a watery burial but our leaving behind one world and coming up to a new world. And how many lessons can we draw from removing leaven from our lives and replacing it with unleavened bread?
The ancient Exodus also teaches us today not to lust after evil things, become idolaters, commit sexual immorality, tempt Christ, or complain (1 Corinthians 10:6–10). The Passover sets the stage in depicting God’s plan of salvation for all mankind. The covenant at Mount Sinai introduces us to the formalization—a clear listing—of God’s liberating law and covenant relationship with His people (James 1:25, 2:12; Hebrews 8:6–13). We also know from Zechariah 14:16–19 that the Festivals of God will be taught during the Millennium, and they all began with that first Passover in Egypt.
Yes, memories fade. One event replaces another—but God has used the Jews to preserve the memory of the Exodus, for it marks the beginning of God’s master plan of deliverance for mankind.