Psalm 137 (136):2Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

Yet, the residents of holy Jerusalem, aware of their captivity, recognize how the natural desires and worldly passions rush us towards destruction; they perceive this and refrain from succumbing to the allure of Babylon's waters. Instead, they humble themselves and weep, either for those lost to these desires or for themselves, acknowledging their own place in Babylon. O holy Zion, where all stands still and nothing flows! Who has led us into this fate? Why have we turned our backs on your Creator and community? In the midst of transience, it is rare to find anyone who can hold onto a tree firmly enough to escape the rushing stream. Let us recognize our humbled state in captivity; while we sit beside the waters of Babylon, let us resist diving into those currents or taking pride in our sorrow. Rather, let us sit down and shed tears, remaining beside the waters and avoiding being submerged in them—this is our humility, that it may not overwhelm us. We linger by the waters, not within them; let us strive to remain humble and silent, as in Jerusalem.

Many weep at the lamentations of Babylon, even while partaking in its fleeting joys. When individuals rejoice in their gains and grieve their losses, both sentiments are of Babylon. Our weeping should stem from the memory of Zion. Though we may find happiness in Babylon, if we remember Zion, we should still mourn.

Upon the willows in that land, we hung our musical instruments (Psalm 135:2). The inhabitants of Jerusalem possess their sacred instruments: God’s Word, His commandments, promises, and reflections on eternal life. Yet, while we dwell in Babylon, we hang our instruments in sorrow. The willows are barren trees, unable to yield understanding; they represent the lifelessness that permeates Babylon's waters—their nourishment brings no fruit. Likewise, there are those consumed by greed and selfishness, who resemble these trees of Babylon, indulging in fleeting pleasures without bearing any spiritual fruit. Our desire for righteousness yields nothing from them.

Thus, postponing our engagement with the Scriptures, we hang our instruments. We deem these trees unworthy to bear our songs. Therefore, we abstain from placing our instruments among them, choosing instead to keep them in wait. The willows, nourished by transient pleasures akin to the waters of Babylon, are inadequate for our sacred purposes.

For those who have taken us captive demand of us songs and hymns (Psalm 135:3). They ask for our joyful expressions, yet we find ourselves ensnared by the allurements of earthly temptations, struggling even to breathe freely in prayer. We are mindful of our captivity but must ask ourselves: Who has taken us captive? What kind of rulers are they? If we are redeemed, it implies we were once prisoners. Who redeemed us? Christ alone. From whom did He deliver us? From the adversary. The devil and his followers have ensnared us, leading us astray only because we were complicit.

When those captors question us, "Sing us one of the songs of Zion," how shall we respond? Babylon carries you, sustains you, and speaks through you. You fail to grasp the eternal; you cannot discern the call of the everlasting. How can we sing the Lord's song in a foreign land? (Psalm 135:4). Indeed, beloved, this is our reality. As you desire to proclaim the truth, be prepared to face scorn from those who oppose it. Respond to their inquiries with confidence in your sacred hymn: How can we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?

Take heed of how you conduct yourselves among them, O people of God, O body of Christ, O noble assembly of travelers—your true home lies elsewhere. Beware lest in your affection for this world, its allurements beguile you, causing you to forsake Jerusalem. Therefore, let us heed the psalmist's warning: If I forget you, O Jerusalem (Psalm 136:5), amid the echoes of their entrapment and deceit.

What then? Should I neglect you, may my right hand lose its strength. May my tongue cleave to my mouth if I fail to recall you (Psalm 135:6). In essence, let me be voiceless if I do not remember your songs. What words emit from one who neglects the hymn of Zion? The language of this world is foreign to us—a barbaric tongue acquired in our captivity. He who does not remember Jerusalem will find himself silent before God. Mere recollection is insufficient; enemies remember too, desiring to unmake her. What kind of place is this? Who are the followers of Christ? If they were not Christians, they would not stand aflame with zeal.

The captive band has vanquished their captors, yet they brood and seethe, wishing to tear down the holy city, which dwells among them like a wanderer. Remembering is not enough; we must consider how we remember. Some fondly recall with love, while others recall with enmity. Hence, upon declaring: ‘If I forget you, Jerusalem,’ he swiftly follows with: ‘If I do not esteem Jerusalem amidst my joy.’ Indeed, there exists a joy in which we delight in God, where we find respite from the temptation sawed by the brotherhood of earthly ties. In that realm, the tempter cannot reach us, we are drawn only to that which is good, our needs fulfilled, and eternal bliss radiates.

Then, he lifts a prayer to God against the enemies of that city: Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom (Psalm 136:7). Edom, identified as Esau, aligns with the words of the apostle: Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated (Romans 9:13). Esau embodies all that is earthly, while Jacob signifies all that is spiritual. Thus, all worldly persons oppose the spiritual; those who seek the transient persecute the longing for the eternal. The psalmist, looking back at Jerusalem, beseeches God for deliverance, exclaiming: Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom. Deliver us from the carnal, those who mirror Esau, enemies of the spirit. They were the firstborn, yet the firstborn have become last, for fleshly desires prevailed over the first, while the last—the spiritual—were exalted.

These adversaries live and incite envy, cursing the day of Jerusalem. What day dost he reference? The day of trial for Jerusalem, its day of bondage—or the day of joy, when it found deliverance and partook of eternity? Remember, he cries, do not forget those who uttered: raze it, raze it to the ground. Recall that day when they sought to destroy Jerusalem. How grievous were the trials the Church faced! Like the sons of Edom, carnal men, servants of the adversary, worshipped the idols of wood and stone, seeking to extinguish the Christians, proclaiming, 'Eradicate them!' Were these not their pronouncements? As the soft cries of persecution rose, the martyrs were crowned with glory.

To her, he addresses: O wretched daughter of Babylon (Psalm 135:8). The city is both compassionately named Babylon and contemptibly called the daughter of Babylon, as with Jerusalem and the daughter of Jerusalem, Zion and her offspring. The former Babylon speaks of a lineage, acknowledging her roots. O daughter of Babylon, steeped in misery!

Blessed is the one who repays you as you have treated us (Psalm 135:9). What sort of recompense does he envision? The psalm concludes, declaring: 'Happy is he who seizes your children and dashes them against the rock.' He calls her miserable, yet blessed is the one who administers to her as she has done to us. What, then, is the nature of this reward? It seeks justice. What harm has Babylon wrought upon us? We have lamented, as expressed in another psalm: 'The words of the wicked have overwhelmed us.' In our infancy, the chaos of this world enveloped us with empty notions and myriad delusions.

The child, destined to be a citizen of Jerusalem and divinely chosen as such, remains a captive for a time. When, I wonder, will they comprehend and desire that which is rightly good beyond what their parents instill? They teach desire for greed, deception, daily lies, idolatry, and other forbidden practices. What can a young, innocent soul do but imitate their elders? Babylon afflicted us in our youth, yet upon growing, God bestowed self-awareness to avoid the follies of our upbringing.

How do they repay her? As she served us, so let her children be victimized; let them be crushed. What, then, are the offspring of Babylon? They are base desires at birth. There are those who confront corrosive longings. When a lust arises, before a sinful habit takes hold, let it not gain power; while it remains weak, crush it. Fear not that its death may bring harm; strike it against the Rock, who is Christ (1 Corinthians 10:4).

Beloved, let not your instruments lie dormant in this labor: uplift one another with the songs of Zion. You have heard eagerly; be swift to act upon these truths, lest you become like the willows of Babylon that thrive on its waters but bear no fruit. Instead, long for the eternal Jerusalem, where your hope is anchored, there your life will follow—there we shall be with Christ. Christ reigns now as our Head; He governs from above; in that city, He will unite us with Himself; we shall be like the angels of God. Such a promise is beyond our imagination without the assurance of Truth. Therefore, yearn for these things day and night, meditating on them. Regardless of how the world may glisten with joy before you, do not be deceived, and do not strike bargains with your desires.

Is it a formidable foe? Slay it on the Rock. Is it a minor adversary? Let it shatter upon the Rock. Wield the strength to dismantle the mighty and obliterate the feeble upon that Rock. Let the Rock prevail. Build your foundation upon the Rock if you wish to withstand the currents, winds, or storms. Cultivate a longing for the eternal Jerusalem within your hearts to prepare yourselves against worldly temptations. Your captivity will ebb, your joy will arise; the final enemy will be vanquished, and we shall reign triumphantly with our King throughout eternity.

Similarly, a sinner may stumble and fall, yet if he draws near to the water, meaning when he immerses himself in Holy Scriptures and listens to the divine messages from a righteous person, his soul can flourish and seek repentance.

Eusebius remarks that while other Jewish captives indulged and were oblivious to their plight, the priests, Levites, and musicians, distancing themselves from the city of Babylon and its enemies, sat by the riverbanks reflecting on the fleeting nature of human existence. They concealed their instruments so their adversaries would not see them, and instead of singing, they wept for the loss of their psalmody and divine worship. This image resonates with Christians who may renounce Christ amid persecution and are swept away by the trials that result. Babylon, as previously mentioned, represents a confluence of influences. Therefore, whenever a Christian is faced with the turmoil of persecution and finds themselves living among foes and the irreverent, they should remember the Church of Christ where they experienced spiritual rebirth through baptism. They should not be misled by the distractions of Babylon; rather, sitting by the rivers, contemplating the fleeting nature of worldly affairs, they should mourn their fall. Methodius of Patara expressed that pure souls may declare that, like on the willow trees in Babylon, they have elevated their instruments, representing their bodies and souls in a state of purity to shield themselves from the rushing torrents of evil. They implore with sorrow that their instruments remain untainted and not succumb to the waves of temptation. The willow often symbolizes virginity, as its inner fibers diminish lust, even eradicating desires for procreation, as Homer noted, denoting the willow as detrimental to fertility. Just as this tree thrives by the waters, so too does virginity blossom when nourished by sacred writings, aligning one's life with them. If the rivers of Babylon—representing indulgent temptations—confound the soul, chastity, which restrains unchecked desires, shares qualities with the willow. Furthermore, the psalm can also be interpreted as signifying that Zion and Jerusalem stand for heaven—our true homeland—while Babylon symbolizes the present world; the rivers represent the unstable nature of life’s circumstances. Having been captured by our sins and exiled from paradise, we now inhabit this worldly realm. Thus, we should continuously recall the joyful paradise of our origin and beseech God to restore us to our former home and deliver us from this land of exile. This psalm is traditionally sung during cheese week, commemorating the expulsion of Adam, to reflect this sentiment.