I confess, to my shame, that I never had an identity crisis. My wife seems to think I did years ago when I purchased a 2014 Jeep Sahara ... but I reminded her that this was actually my 2nd jeep – and I am pretty sure I was not going through an identity crisis when I was in my 30s. One of the few crises I can remember came some years later when our son was living with us. He had an appetite worse than the combined lice and locust swarm out of Egypt. He did not eat Peanut Butter, he drank it. I would take him to MacDonald’s just to watch the numbers turn. OK, well, maybe not – but my son sure could eat!
Any crisis in my life cannot compare to the circumstances facing the person who wrote Psalm 137. While I fight guilt for eating hot apple-crisp before bedtime, the writer stands before the mirror of memory, fighting the pain of an interrupted home life ... too vivid to ignore ... too deep to describe ... too personal to share – even though it was the result of bad choices.
We cannot be certain as to when this Psalm was written, however the past tenses of vv. 1-3 would suggest that it was written soon after the return from Babylonian captivity in 538 BC. The Hebrew writer, probably a Levite, returns home to discover that Babylonian spoilers have sacked Jerusalem, ruined the Temple and wasted the fields. As he writes, he is bitter with the memory of wrong and insult.
Christians can also be victims to a heavily
wounded mind; one that creates fresh images
of ruin, defeat and past decay in their life.
Not wanting to sing is understandable.
In a culture that pushes Miller Lite and encourages people to deny the pain that often finds its way into our life – Psalm 137 is a fearless, intrepid, refreshing pause that reminds us that God can be found in the middle of our pain. Singing Courageously on Dark Days is possible, and I would love to share some biblical insights in this Psalm that can help us in the living of our faith. I trust you are encouraged today as you read.
Insight # 1 Don’t Allow Your Situation to Determine Your Destination. (vv. 1-2)
By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept
when we remembered Zion.
2 There on the poplars
we hung our harps,
The scene before us is alive with honest-to-goodness pain. In fact, Psalm 137 is the most direct and striking reminiscence of the Babylonian exile recorded in the Psalms. Written in funeral-like script – it’s slow, brooding, mournful pace vividly conveys the intense sorrow of a nation shrouded in the gloom of captivity. Too heavy-hearted for activity, the exiles sat fixed on the banks of the irrigation canals that flowed from the Tigris and Euphrates rivers into the City of Babylon. Like Michaelangelo’s brooding figure of Jeremiah in the Sistine Chapel, they were silent, motionless, lost in bitter-sweet reflection.
When they did weep, the Psalmist points out in v. 1 that it was the haunting images of past remembrances and earlier exiles that dogged their memory. It is as vivid a picture of tear and tragedy as we can find anywhere in the Bible. Once in a while their tormentors added to their pain – calling on them to tune their harps and sing one of those songs for which their land was famous ... but pathetically many had hung their harps in the branches of the willows that fringed the canal banks in the hope that they would be hidden from the enemy. The request of the captors was designed to rob these believers in God of their identity ... dignity ... and hope.
Here is God’s word for you today. Do not allow that circumstance to keep you from sparkling
the way God wants you to. Don’t!
“Sing us one of the songs of Zion,” they said. In effect what they were saying was, “Hey, come on”
Your kingdom is broken up
Your capital city is destroyed
Your temple lies in ruins
Your people are prisoners
So “Forget home. Make the best of a new situation. Come - sing us a song.”
We might think that this psalm is only about Babylon, half a millennium before Christ. True enough! But it could easily be a thousand places and times throughout history ... and just as easily, it could be where you are living now; after all, some of you understand all too well the agony of living in the present ... while held captive to the past. Who wants to sing?
In a sense, we hold our crisis in our hands, don’t we? Those feelings are ours to handle, and there must a willingness to meet our negative feelings head-on if we are to advance. Churches are brimming with wounded people, like this psalmist, people haunted by the past, living in their own personal exile. There is a way forward. We sing courageously on dark days. We start ... by not allowing our situation to determine our destination.
Insight # 2 The Lord’s Songs Are Meant for Strange Land Situations (3-6)
for there our captors asked us for songs,
our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”
4 How can we sing the songs of the Lord
while in a foreign land?
5 If I forget you, Jerusalem,
may my right hand forget its skill.
6 May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth
if I do not remember you,
if I do not consider Jerusalem
my highest joy.
Admittedly, v. 4 can be read as an expression of hopeless resignation: “How can we sing the songs of the Lord in a foreign land?” Notice though that the mood changes in the next 2 verses – as if the writer has suddenly taken a determined new grip on himself.
“If I forget you, O Jerusalem, may my right hand forget its skill
May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth”
The object of vv. 5-6 is to express a deep, heart-felt interest and loyalty to Jerusalem ... and implicitly, to the God who has His throne there. The Psalmist wishes that these 2 members of his body by which instrumental (right hand) and vocal (tongue) music are performed – would be rendered incapable of doing their work, if under any circumstances his zeal for God and His Temple does not have the highest place in his heart. It is here that we are confronted with that most humbling and moving of things – the sheer tenacity of faith.
When you feel like one of Little-Bo-Peep’s lost sheep – running blind and baffled – fasten your soul
to God and move forward.
I find it remarkable that these exiles were able to keep their faith at all, frankly. The obvious thing to conclude was that God had broken all of His promises and was no better than the gods of Babylon. But what an extraordinary statement in v. 5, “If I forget you, O Jerusalem …” Despite all appearances, this person understood the depth of Covenant promise. So should we!
Is it wrong to grieve? No! Still. when descending through a human ‘cloud bank’ as we head for ‘home’, we should remind ourselves that God has promised us his strength and his grace to take us through – even when we cannot see our destination.
In the midst of our darkest nights ... and our longest nights
Under the most desperate and ominous of pressing circumstances
Whether our trials are personal or national, he is the God ‘Who Is There!’
Of the many things I have learned in life – two things are certain: There is a God. And I am not Him. The bad news is that the Lord’s song will not deliver you. The good news is that it will sustain you until deliverance comes. I have borne witness to this time and again as a pastor, watching Christian folk reeling under the shock of sudden calamity – while affirming their loyalty to ... and confidence in God. Can’t begin to express my deep admiration for them.
To some degree the poet confirms what most of us have always believed – that life is a strange mixture of good and bad. Like releasing a dream, or allowing a child to grow up – we need to relax our grip on the tumor inside us. How is that done, you ask? The answer is in v. 6 – REMEMBER GOD!
Build into your imagination the mansion of your future greatness, by focusing on God. Don’t forget Him! Make Him your chief joy, both in DEED (v. 5) and WORD (v. 6). Subordinate those treacherous memories by filling your vision and heart with him. In the midst of life’s adversities, it is entirely possible to have a clear witness of God’s promises, as the life of David the warrior-musician demonstrates time and again. Sure, he kept his weapon ready for battle, just as all believers should spiritually. His second weapon of choice however was a musical instrument – so he could sing, whether lament or praise (i.e. Ps. 13, 18, 57). The Lord’s songs are meant for strange land situations.
Trouble is like an ugly dog.
It looks worse coming, than going.
Insight # 3 We Cannot Carry a Lot of Mess with Us and Still Sing Our Song (vv. 7-9)
Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did
on the day Jerusalem fell.
“Tear it down,” they cried,
“tear it down to its foundations!”
8 Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,
happy is the one who repays you
according to what you have done to us.
9 Happy is the one who seizes your infants
and dashes them against the rocks.
These words make us uncomfortable ... uneasy. His words stick in our throat. Most preachers would be tempted to defuse this psalm and soften its blow – by ignoring them, maybe even ending the message early. I mean, read these verses and in our hearts, we probably wish he had laid down his pen after v. 6 ... and surely after v. 8. He does not! Actually though, we need to hear the psalm in all of its pain, agony and anger. Think of it! The psalmist is unwilling to sing “one of the songs of Zion” – but he has no problem singing retribution down onto the heads of his enemies, the Babylonians and Edomites. So ... so ... human like. We can learn from these verses though.
There is room in our lives for genuine grievance
By the time Jerusalem fell in 586 to the Babylonians – the people had suffered unspeakable horrors. Read Lamentations 4 and you will see what I mean. After the Babylonians were finished, the Edomites plundered what they could (Obadiah 11-14).
His words lay bare our own frequent feelings
Most of us, from time to time, have known people who say what the rest of us only think. Given a little more candor and courage – it’s the kind of thing we could have said a thousand times ourselves. So, let’s be real about our struggle.
What is “entirely natural” is not automatically right.
There are times when we should view the toughness of the biblical idea of judgment in a more positive light. Did we not all cry, even if only in our hearts, when we heard about Sandy Hook Elementary School shootings in Connecticut or witnessed the Twin Towers of 911 collapse? Still, while we might excuse the psalmist’s “natural feelings” ... we can hardly excuse ourselves – for we are so much more privileged than the psalmist. In Jesus we have seen one who frequently turned the other cheek and in the Holy Spirit, we possess what the Psalmist did not have: the very life of God within us – to enable us to live ... act ... and think on a higher plane.
The great English poet Browning wrote one sentence that borders on inspiration: “God, you are love:
I build my faith on that.”
The Psalmists words teach us an important step in learning to sing “one of the songs of Zion” when feeling exiled – we cannot carry a lot of mess with us and still sing our song. I am not suggesting we cut the witness of vv. 7-9 out of the Older Testament ... but we should guard against bitterness (Ephesians 4:26-32). I am not suggesting that wrongs cannot be pursued through confrontation or legal courts. Still, a personal thirst for vengeance is contrary to the spirit of Christ [I once heard someone describe bitterness like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies]. God will ultimately “render every man according to his works” (Romans 2:6f) – and I am persuaded that this is what the psalmist would have said in a cooler moment.
In 2001 Nelson Mandela became the first living foreigner to be made an honorary Canadian Citizen. In his inspiring book “The Long Walk to Freedom” he tells of the 27 yrs. he spent wrongfully imprisoned on Robben Island in South Africa;
Martin Luther, the Reformer who was a symbol of the historic protest against Rome’s franchise on eternal salvation, found himself excommunicated, hunted and hidden, yet he fought back with “Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott” – A Mighty Fortress Is Our God (Psalm 46);
Joseph refused to be drawn into a base response of vengeance even though his brothers brought repeated acts of hatred against him (Gn. 45:1-5; 50:15-26);
Stephen refused to be bitter against those who were stoning him, praying instead for God’s forgiveness (Acts 7:59-60).
Their lives demonstrate that it IS possible to have a clear witness of God’s promise. How do we sing God’s song in exile? We do it by reminding ourselves that we cannot carry a lot of mess with us and still sing our song. (vv. 7-9)
God was prepared to suffer in order to redeem us
and I suspect he expects his people to share in that
same commitment. Singing dangerously, even
though we cannot see beyond the circumstances,
can sustain us in those tough moments.
In the movie Forest Gump, Jenny and Gump are now adults – and they are walking through paths they had traveled together as children. Suddenly, Jenny is confronted by a battered building. It is the house where she grew up – and suddenly the images become all too real for her.
The house where her father abused and violated her
The house where she lost the ability to love
Enraged, Jenny throws her shoe at the house. She grovels in the dirt, grabbing rocks and heaving them at the windows until one finally shatters . . . and Jenny collapses. At that moment Forrest Gump slowly remarks: “Sometimes I guess there aren’t enough rocks”. He’s right! Sometimes the rocks of hatred run out ... and we still hurt. What to do?
Now consider the events of Acts 16:16-34. Paul and Silas are unjustly accused and imprisoned. In the natural, things look bleak. Still, they prayed. It was while they were praying and singing courageously – the miracle happened. They set their eyes and hearts on the Deliverer ... the Healer ... the Source of Truth and Life, not their chains – and things changed.
If you are living in exile, fighting dark days - release your song; praise God anyways. I can testify that I have done it numerous times throughout my life – especially when pressed on every side. And those songs, off-key ... horrible sounding ...even dirge-like ... have encouraged me ... lifted me ... and revived my flagging spirit. I can testify that it’s the song that makes life not only bearable, but beautiful.
It greets us each morning in the shrill chirping of birds and insects.
It visits us each evening in the low sympathy of crickets
It sanctifies cities through the bells that ring in the steeples of faith
It lightens the burden of people who are struggling
It calms the anxieties of exiles who are frustrated
It strengthens hands that are weak
It braces knees that knock
It raises the spirits of those who are defeated and depressed
Do not let what you are going THROUGH stop you from what God wants you to go TO.
“Faith of our fathers! Living still, In spite of dungeon, fire, and sword;
O how our hearts beat high with joy,
whene'er we hear that glorious word!
Faith of our fathers, holy faith! We will be true to thee till death.”
“OnlySaying ...”
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