Psalm 137 (136):1Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

Yet, the citizens of holy Jerusalem, upon recognizing their captivity, observe how worldly desires and various lusts hasten and pull them in every direction, leading them to destruction; they witness this, and instead of being swept into the waters of Babylon, they sit down and weep—for those carried away by these desires, or for themselves, whose actions have placed them in Babylon. This act of sitting down signifies their humility. O holy Zion, where everything is steadfast and nothing ebbs away! Who brought us into this state? Why have we departed from your Founder and community? When all things shift and slip away, hardly anyone can seize a tree and escape the current. In our humbled captivity, let us sit by the waters of Babylon; let us refrain from immersing ourselves in those streams, nor remain proud amidst the sorrow of our captivity, but let us humble ourselves and weep. Let us sit by the waters, not in or under them; such is our humility that it may not crush us. Remain by the waters, but not in them, nor beneath them; let us be humble and silent, as at Jerusalem.

For many weep with the lamentations of Babylon, because they also find joy in its pleasures. When individuals rejoice in their gains and lament their losses, both are part of Babylon. You should mourn, but let your mourning be for the memory of Zion. If you weep for the remembrance of Zion, your tears should flow even amidst happiness in Babylon.

“On the willows in the midst of it, we hung our musical instruments” (Psalm 135:2). The citizens of Jerusalem possess their instruments, which symbolize God's scriptures, commands, promises, and reflections on the eternal life, yet while dwelling in Babylon, they hang them up. Willows are barren trees, unable to communicate any goodness; perhaps elsewhere they might do so, but here by the waters of Babylon, their barrenness is stark. These trees receive nourishment from the waters of Babylon, bearing no fruit; similarly, there are individuals—greedy, selfish, barren of good deeds—who are citizens of Babylon, feeding on transient pleasures as though nourished by the waters there. You seek fruit from them and find none. Consequently, we set our instruments aside; we postpone their use, deeming them unworthy of carrying our songs.

The captors demanded of us “words of songs,” and those who led us away requested a hymn (Psalm 135:3). They called upon us for songs and hymns, us who are captivated. We are lured by the allure of earthly pleasures, wrestling daily with the temptations of sinful desires; we hardly breathe freely, even in prayer: we recognize our captivity. But who has taken us captive? What manner of people? What king? If we are redeemed, we were once captives. Who rescued us? Christ. From whom did He rescue us? From the devil. Thus, the devil and his angels took us captive, and they would not have succeeded unless we had consented.

So, to those who took us captive—the devil and his angels—when they demand, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion,” what response can we offer? Babylon holds you, sustains you, fills you; it speaks through your mouth. You have lost the ability to grasp what is fleeting and have forgotten how to contemplate eternal truths. How could we sing the Lord's song in a foreign land? (Psalm 135:4). Truly, dear brethren, this is the reality. Aspiring to proclaim the truth leads us to endure the scorn of mockers, persecutors of the truth, filled with deceit. When they challenge us with what they cannot accept, we counter confidently with our sacred song: “How shall we sing the song of the Lord in a strange land?”

But behold how we live among them, O people of God, O body of Christ, O noble company of sojourners (for your true home is not here, but elsewhere), lest, in seeking their favor, you begin to forget Jerusalem. Therefore, let us heed the psalmist’s admonition: “If I forget thee, O Jerusalem” (Psalm 136:5), amidst the words of those who ensnare me, amidst the discussions of treacherous men who inquire maliciously, seeking knowledge but without desire to learn. What then? If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill.

“Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you” (Psalm 135:6). In other words, let me be mute, for what can he utter who does not speak the words of Zion? Our true language is the song of Jerusalem. The song of adoration for this world is a foreign tongue, a barbaric language learned in captivity. The one who forgets Jerusalem will be mute before God. It is not sufficient merely to remember; for her enemies also recall, wishing to see her fall. “What manner of city is this? Who are the Christians? What kind of people are they?” They question. If they were not Christians... Now the chorus of captives seeks to vanquish their captors; they still murmur in anger, yearning to demolish the holy city that resides among them as an outsider.

It is not enough to merely remember; take note of how you remember. Some memories are accompanied by hatred, others by love. Thus, when he says, “If I forget you, Jerusalem,” he follows immediately with: “If I do not prefer Jerusalem above my chief joy” (Psalm 135:6). For there exists a chief joy where we delight in God, safe from the entanglements of earthly brotherhood and unity. There, no tempter shall assail us; nothing shall entice us but good; there every desire shall cease, and there perfect bliss shall radiate to us.

Then he offers a prayer to God regarding the enemies of that city: “Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom” (Psalm 136:7). Edom is identified with Esau, for as the apostle has said, “Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated” (Romans 9:13). Esau symbolizes all carnal desires, while Jacob signifies all that is spiritual. All those who are ruled by fleshly inclinations are adversaries to the spiritual; for those who seek the ephemeral pursue those who long for the eternal. Thus, the psalmist, recalling Jerusalem and imploring God for deliverance from captivity, beseeches: “Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom.” Strive to free us from those who embody fleshly desires, from the imitating Esau, who, while being the elder brother, serves as an enemy.

Though they were the firstborn, the firstborn are now the last, for the cravings of the flesh led to the first’s downfall, while disdain for such lusts elevated the second. Others live on, filled with envy and persecution. Concerning the day of Jerusalem—the day of trial, the day of captivity, or the jubilant day of liberation—when he attains his purpose, participating in eternity, he remembers all those who declared, “Destroy it, destroy it to its foundations” (Psalm 136:8). Recall, therefore, the day when they sought to annihilate Jerusalem. What profound persecutions the Church endured! Like the sons of Edom—those carnal men, servants of the devil and his angels—who worshipped stone and tree and followed the cravings of the flesh, they proclaimed, “Root out the Christians; eliminate them; do not let them remain; destroy them!” Did such words not ring true? When they were voiced, the persecutors were humbled, and the martyrs were crowned.

Then he addresses her, “O daughter of Babylon, wretched; wretched in your countenance, your arrogance, your hostility; you miserable daughter of Babylon!” (Psalm 135:8). The city is referred to as both Babylon and the daughter of Babylon, much like Jerusalem and its daughter, Zion and its daughter, the Church and its daughter. The latter is called a daughter due to its dependence on the former, while the former is called a mother due to its preeminence. Earlier Babylons existed; did the people remain in it? Being the heir of Babylon, it is thus named. O daughter of Babylon, how wretched you are!

“Blessed is he who repays you for the evil you have done to us” (Psalm 135:9). What kind of repayment is he referring to? The psalm concludes, “Blessed is he who takes your children and dashes them against the rock.” She is called miserable, yet fortunate is he who repays her as she has treated us. Are we seeking to understand this reward? It is retribution. What wrong has Babylon done to us? We have already sung in another psalm: “The words of the wicked have overwhelmed us.” When we were born, the confusion of this world enveloped us, smothering us like vulnerable infants drowning in empty superstitions and various delusions.

The child, destined to be a citizen of Jerusalem, has already been predestined by God, yet is a prisoner for a time—when will he learn to cherish what is right apart from the whispers of his parents? They instruct him in greed, theft, daily lies, and idolatry, modeling devotion to various idols and demons, as well as unlawful charms and amulets. What can a child, a tender soul, observing the actions of the elderly, do but emulate their behaviors? Thus, Babylon attacked us in our youth; however, God later granted us self-awareness to avert following our parents’ errors.

How do they repay Babylon? As she has served us. May her children be stifled; indeed, let her children be shattered and perish. Who are the offspring of Babylon? They are evil desires at birth. Those who must confront hardened temptations—when a desire is birthed, before a vile habit gains strength against you—when it is small, do not allow it to culminate in an entrenched habit; rather, sever it while it remains weak. Fear not that, if broken, it may die; shatter it against the Rock, and that Rock is Christ (1 Corinthians 10:4).

Brethren, let not your instruments fall silent; sing to one another the songs of Zion. You have heard this readily; heed it quickly to avoid becoming willows of Babylon, nourished by its streams and bearing no fruit. Yearn for the eternal Jerusalem: where your hopes are, there your life shall follow; there we will experience communion with Christ. Christ is our Head, ruling from on high; in that city, He will unite us with Himself, making us equal to the angels of God. We would not dare to conceive of such glory without the assurance of the Truth. Therefore, wish for these things, dear brethren, and contemplate them day and night.

No matter how the world may shine with superficial joy, do not yield nor negotiate with temptations. Is it a matured adversary? Let him be slain upon the Rock. Is it a minor adversary? Let him be shattered on the Rock. Dispatch the stronger foes upon the Rock and obliterate the lesser ones upon the Rock. Allow the Rock to prevail. Build upon the Rock if you seek to withstand the torrents, winds, and rains. If you desire to defend against worldly temptations, let the longing for the eternal Jerusalem flourish and strengthen in your hearts. Your captivity shall come to an end, your joy shall blossom; the last enemy shall be vanquished, and we shall triumph with our King, untouched by death.

When observing someone in a moment of beauty, we see how illness can diminish their vitality, leading their color to fade. Just as beauty, like a flowing river, is transient, so too does the essence of our lives fluctuate; we may experience wealth, strength, or attractiveness for a time, but inevitably everything diminishes, much like water that continuously streams away. In our sorrow, we remember Zion, acknowledging our fall from paradise due to our own actions while still holding onto memories of our former joy.

The parable of the man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho—a name that signifies change—also illustrates this point. He fell victim to robbers, yet a Samaritan came to his aid, tending to his wounds with wine and oil (see Luke 10:30-35), demonstrating a blend of firmness and compassion.

“On the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down and wept, when we remembered Zion.” Those who find themselves in distress often retreat to desolate places to mourn their misfortunes. Hence, the Jews, seated on the rocky banks of the rivers, lamenting the ruin of their beloved city, poured out tears that flowed like the waters of a river.

When they had wealth and freedom, they were arrogant and contemptuous of their sins; consequently, they lost those blessings, fostering a yearning to regain them. God often deals with those who disregard His grace in this way; those who remain unaware of their blessings are stripped of them to provoke an awareness, leading them to desire that which they once took for granted. Chrysostom explains that when we are in the midst of His blessings and remain indifferent, He leads us to a desolate place devoid of comforts, so that through their absence we may learn to cherish them anew. Theodoret points out that individuals in sorrow often retreat to secluded areas, where they express their grief. Similarly, these captives, sitting along the banks of the rivers—specifically the waters of the Euphrates—reflected on the devastation of their beloved city, shedding tears akin to the flowing rivers. According to Nicetas, Babylon is the location associated with those who declared, ‘Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower.’ There, God intervened and confused their language; hence, this place is known for its linguistic chaos, symbolizing not just verbal confusion but also the disorder of laws, thoughts, and the very intellect that sought to comprehend them.

and wept.’ Indeed, every righteous spirit in this world mirrors the Israelites by the rivers of Babylon, seated and weeping as they recall their beloved heavenly home and exalted Jerusalem. Here, the godly soul finds no true residence or homeland; instead, they encounter exile wherever they go. Remain steadfast, beloved ones, and await the moment when the Lord calls you from this world, just as He summoned the exiles from Babylon to the exalted Jerusalem. At that time, you shall behold your home and your Fatherland, which will be divine, eternal, and blessed. ‘And your heart will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you’ (John 16:22).

The psalm expresses the sorrow of the exiled Israelites, their longing to return to their homeland, and the prophecy regarding the consequences that the Babylonians would face. Upon the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down and wept, when we should remember Zion. These are the lamentations of the sorrowful Jews taken from Jerusalem to Babylon, who, as St. Chrysostom notes, did not reside in the heart of the city but were forced to work hard in the fields and along the riverbanks. Burdened by their labor, they would sometimes rest, but in their moments of reflection on their homeland, they wept deeply. The term “sedohom” implies an extensive duration of captivity, suggesting that the people were not only uprooted from their beloved land but also confined as if entombed. The adverb “tamo” signifies the grave misfortune of the Jews, as it is perceived by those who respect their plight.

Even though the beauty of the waterside may have offered some solace, the Prophet emphasizes that the faithful were enveloped in constant mourning during their stay. This is further illuminated by their remembrance of Zion, indicating that their thoughts were not fixed on temporal treasures, but rather on divine worship. For the sanctuary established on Mount Zion served as a beacon for them, sustaining their hope for liberation. Although they were situated in a delightful and joyous region, the thought of prolonged captivity filled them with tears, as they were far removed from the temple and the regular worship of God.

The psalmist speaks on behalf of all the returnees, expressing gratitude to God, their Redeemer, as they remembered the trials faced in Babylon during their newly established, although inadequately supported, worship services. Initially, the psalmist conveys the deep sorrow of the captives, whose tears flowed at the sight of Zion in ruins and their separation from it. The rivers of Babylon referred to are the Euphrates, Tigris, Hovar, and Eulei; due to the necessity for routine ritual washings, the captives likely chose to settle near these waterways. Perhaps the psalmist’s depiction of sitting by the rivers symbolizes Babylon as a land abundant in water, with rivers flowing throughout the region.

Babylon represents confusion, while the rivers symbolize the overwhelming flood of sin. At these rivers, humanity grieves and repents, longing for the paradise lost, hoping to reclaim it. The Israelites, who were taken captive by Nebuchadnezzar, stand as a representation of humanity held captive by the spiritual Nebuchadnezzar—the devil. The rivers of Babylon signify the torrents of sinful passions and desires. The Jews mourned for their earthly Jerusalem, where their temple to the true God stood; similarly, we should mourn for spiritual Zion, the city of the Living God, the Heavenly Jerusalem, which is the genuine homeland of Christians. We have strayed from it due to our apathy towards fulfilling the Lord's commandments and our indifference to the heavenly sustenance—the pure Body and Blood of Christ.