Psalm 137:1-9 (NKJV)
1 By the rivers of Babylon,
There we sat down, yea, we wept
When we remembered Zion.
2 We hung our harps
Upon the willows in the midst of it.
3 For there those who carried us away captive asked of us a song,
And those who plundered us requested mirth,
Saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”
4 How shall we sing the Lord’s song
In a foreign land?
5 If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
Let my right hand forget its skill!
6 If I do not remember you,
Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth—
If I do not exalt Jerusalem
Above my chief joy.
7 Remember, O Lord, against the sons of Edom
The day of Jerusalem,
Who said, “Raze it, raze it,
To its very foundation!”
8 O daughter of Babylon, who are to be destroyed,
Happy the one who repays you as you have served us!
9 Happy the one who takes and dashes
Your little ones against the rock!
“By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept when we remembered Zion.”
By the waters of their captors, God’s people sat with broken hearts. Babylon was not their home. Zion was far away. The temple was in ruins. The city of David lay desolate. They hung up their harps—symbols of joy silenced in exile. Their tormentors mocked them: “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” But how could they? The songs of the Lord are not for the entertainment of unbelief, nor can they be sung lightly in the face of devastation.
The pain of Psalm 137 is raw. It doesn’t resolve neatly. It doesn’t soften the blow. It cries out for justice. It remembers Jerusalem with holy longing and a fierce loyalty that refuses to forget what God had given. “If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill!” This is not blind nationalism or cultural pride. It is love for the place where the Lord made His name dwell—the city of His promise, the center of His worship.
And then come the final verses—disturbing and difficult. The psalmist calls for judgment against Edom and Babylon. He does not call for personal vengeance but pleads for God to repay evil. The image of infants dashed against rocks is horrifying, and rightly so. But this is not a command for us to imitate; it is the cry of a people who have seen their own children slaughtered and beg God not to overlook the wickedness. These words do not invite cruelty. They show the seriousness of sin, the reality of evil, and the need for justice beyond what this world can give.
Still, the cross casts a shadow even over Babylon’s rivers. The Son of God entered the pain of exile and bore the full weight of divine judgment. On Him the wrath was poured, that mercy might flow. We weep for the brokenness of this world. We grieve over sin—ours and others’. But we remember Zion, not just the old city, but the new Jerusalem. We wait for it. We long for it. And we sing—not because the world is safe, but because our Savior lives.
Let us pray: O Lord, remember Your people in exile and bring justice with mercy. Teach us to sing in hope until we see Your city again. Amen.