Psalms 137:1-9: a reflection

1By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down. Yes, we wept, when we remembered Zion. 2On the willows in that land, we hung up our harps. 3For there, those who led us captive asked us for songs. Those who tormented us demanded songs of joy: “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” 4How can we sing the LORD’s song in a foreign land? 5If I forget you, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill. 6Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth if I don’t remember you, if I don’t prefer Jerusalem above my chief joy. 7Remember, LORD, against the children of Edom in the day of Jerusalem, who said, “Raze it! Raze it even to its foundation!” 8Daughter of Babylon, doomed to destruction, he will be happy who repays you, as you have done to us. 9Happy shall he be, who takes and dashes your little ones against the rock.

Psalm 137 gives voice to the raw grief of exile. By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down and wept, when we remembered Zion. Far from home, their city destroyed, the exiles sit and weep; they hang up their harps, unable to sing. And when their captors mockingly demand a happy song, one of the songs of Zion, they answer with an aching question: How can we sing the LORD's song in a foreign land? The grief of displacement, loss, and homesickness is poured out with unguarded honesty.

Notice how honestly this psalm grieves. It does not put on a brave face or pretend the exiles were fine. It sits down by the river and weeps; it hangs up the harp; it cannot bring itself to sing. Scripture gives room for that kind of raw, unresolved sorrow, the grief of losing home, of finding ourselves somewhere we do not belong, of being unable, for a season, even to sing. And the psalm goes on, at its end, to voice a raw and terrible anger against the destroyers, an anger it brings, however shockingly, before God rather than acting on.

There is something to learn from a psalm this honest. When we are in our own kind of exile, grieving a loss, displaced, homesick for what is gone, unable to summon the old songs, we do not have to pretend. We can, like these exiles, bring our tears and even our rawest feelings honestly to God. He can hold our unpolished grief and even our anger; the psalm shows they belong in prayer, brought to God rather than acted out. If you cannot sing right now, if you sit by the river and weep, know that Scripture makes room for it. Bring even that honestly to God, who does not require you to pretend.

Lord, the exiles by the rivers of Babylon wept and could not sing, and they brought their raw grief and even their anger honestly to you. When I am in my own exile, grieving, displaced, unable to summon the old songs, thank you that I do not have to pretend. Help me bring my tears and even my rawest feelings honestly to you, who can hold them, rather than acting them out. When I cannot sing, meet me by the river, and hold my honest grief.