May the mumbling commence!
Welcome to a lamentable situation. The dust had yet to settle from the journey to exile. The psalmist wails, and Jeremiah made good on his title as the weeping prophet in the book of Lamentations. Read first Psalm 137:
By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept
when we remembered Zion.
There on the poplars
we hung our harps,
for there our captors asked us for songs,
our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
they said, "Sing us one of the songs of Zion!"
How can we sing the songs of the Lord
while in a foreign land?
If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
may my right hand forget its skill.
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.
Remember, O Lord, what the Edomites did
on the day Jerusalem fell.
"Tear it down," they cried,
"tear it down to its foundations!"
O Daughter of Babylon, doomed to destruction,
happy is he who repays you for what you have done to us –
he who seizes your infants
and dashes them against the rocks.
I read this psalm and think of the great hymns and spiritual songs that were written from the first half of the psalm. I can almost hear the Jamaican-like rhythms of the song “By the waters of Babylon.” Indeed, how could songs of joy be sung in captivity at the whim of oppressors?
It is no wonder that tongues clung to the roofs of mouths. No, joy was not bubbling forth in the foreign land. Hatred and vengeance bubbled up instead. Remember the violence of Edom and Babylon! That was the rallying cry. Happiness could only be dreamed of when vicious retribution would be brought down on the heads of Edom and Babylon.
The psalm ends with some haunting words – happy is he who seizes your infants and dashes the against the rocks. It is only human that we want revenge. That is why I am glad that I am not God, that we are not God.
Lamentations speaks of a wound that seems incurable. Read from Lamentations 2:13-14 –
What can I say for you?
With what can I compare you, O Daughter of Jerusalem?
To what can I liken you,
that I may comfort you, O Virgin Daughter of Zion?
Your wound is as deep as the sea.
Who can heal you?
The visions of your prophets
were false and worthless;
they did not expose your sin
to ward off your captivity.
The oracles they gave you
were false and misleading.
Can you imagine a wound as deep as the sea? What trouble and strife! Who can heal that level of wound? Neither a band aide nor sutures would stem the flow of blood. The visions and oracles of the prophets are false misleading and worthless. Jeremiah tells us where to look later in chapter 2 of Lamentations:
The Lord has done what he planned;
he has fulfilled his word, which he decreed long ago.
He has overthrown you without pity,
he has let the enemy gloat over you,
he has exalted the horn of your foes.
The hearts of the people cry out to the Lord.
O wall of the Daughter of Zion,
let your tears flow like a river day and night;
give yourself no relief, your eyes no rest.
Arise, cry out in the night,
as the watches of the night begin;
pour out your heart like water
in the presence of the Lord.
Lift up your hands to him
for the lives of your children,
who faint from hunger
at the head of every street. (Verses 17-19)
The answer is clear. Cry out to the Lord. Though it may be too late for this generation, cry out for the sake of your children – that they may return to the Lord. Then, the seemingly incurable wound will be healed by God.
Let us not dwell on our own grief. Let us instead build a new day for our children and grandchildren. This new day will not be built upon the foundation of hatred and vengeance. This new day will be built upon love and faithfulness. May it be so.
Enough mumbling for now…
Peace Out
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