Psalm 137 (136):3Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

Nevertheless, the Jewish people refused to sing. Observe how sorrow can fortify individuals; it can break them and humiliate their spirits. They both wept and upheld the law, the same individuals who had derided the weeping prophets, now, when no one mocked them, turned to tears of their own. This was quite advantageous for their adversaries; they realized that it was not the captivity that pained the Jews, but their mourning was for the absence of their own worship. Thus, the psalmist adds: "remembered Zion." They did not merely shed tears but engaged in continual weeping. Hence, he begins with: "we sat down and wept" (Psalms 136:1), indicating that they sat down for the express purpose of mourning and lamentation.

They perceive this and do not throw themselves into Babylon’s waters; instead, they humbly sit down and weep—for those who are ensnared by such desires, or for themselves, since their choices have placed them in Babylon. This sitting down signifies their humility. O holy Zion, which remains steadfast while all else fades away! Who has entangled us in such turmoil? Why have we forsaken your Creator and fellowship? Consider that in a land where all flows ceaselessly, hardly anyone who manages to grasp a tree can extricate themselves from the current. In our humble captivity, let us sit by the waters of Babylon, refraining from diving into those streams or allowing pride to lead to vanity amidst our sorrow. We must simply sit and weep, remaining beside the waters rather than submerged in them; this is a posture of humility, lest despair overwhelm us. Let us remain by the waters, not entrapped by them, and maintain silence as in Jerusalem.

Many weep alongside the lamentations of Babylon because they also find joy in its pleasures. When individuals rejoice over their gains and mourn their losses, both are products of Babylon. You ought to weep, but let it be in remembrance of Zion. When your heart recalls Zion, you ought to grieve even in the midst of joy in Babylon.

“On the willows in the midst of it we hung our musical instruments” (Psalm 135:2). The dwellers of Jerusalem possess their instruments of worship—God's scriptures, commandments, promises, and reflections on eternal life—but while they reside in Babylon, they hang their instruments in sorrow. Willows, being barren trees, do not yield goodness, serving as a metaphor for how the waters of Babylon nourish those who produce no fruits of virtue. There exist individuals driven by greed and self-interest, devoid of good works, truly citizens of Babylon as they delight in ephemeral joys as if sustained by its waters. When you seek nourishment from them, it remains elusive. Therefore, instead of employing the scriptures among them, we hang our instruments on the willows, viewing them as unworthy to bear our songs. Consequently, we do not use our instruments in their presence or attach them to such trees, but rather suspend their use altogether. The willows represent barren fixtures of Babylon, nourished only by fleeting pleasures.

“For there they that captivated us required of us words of songs, and they that led us away required of us a hymn” (Psalm 135:3). Those who took us captive demanded songs from us. We find ourselves seduced by worldly pleasures, grappling daily with the temptations of unrighteous desires; even in prayer, we struggle to breathe freely: we realize we are captives. But who has taken us captive? What kind of persons are they? What lineage? What sovereign? If we are redeemed, then we were formerly bound. Who redeemed us? Christ. From whose grasp did He free us? From the devil. Thus, it was the devil and his angels who took us captive, and they would not have led us had we not consented.

So, when our captors, the devil and his angels, demand, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion,” how shall we respond? Babylon captivates you; it sustains you; it speaks through you. You do not discern that you are immersed in transient splendor nor comprehend the eternal truths. How can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land? (Psalm 135:4). This is indeed the reality. Begin to desire to proclaim the truth as you understand it, and you will witness the scorn of skeptics—persecutors of the truth, rife with falsehoods. Respond to them when they request what they cannot accept. Say with unwavering faith in your sacred hymn: “How shall we sing the song of the Lord in a strange land!”

But contemplate your existence among them, O people of God, O body of Christ, O noble assembly of pilgrims (for your home lies elsewhere), lest in your affections for them, you seek their camaraderie, failing to heed the risk that the allure of Babylon seduces you, causing you to forget Jerusalem. Thus, in this awareness, heed what the psalmist states: “If I forget thee, O Jerusalem” (Psalm 136:5)—amid the demands of those who bind me, amidst treacherous speech, amidst inquiries that carry malice but do not seek understanding. What then? If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill.

“Let my tongue stick to my jaws if I do not remember you” (Psalm 135:6). This implies that I shall be rendered mute if I do not recall you. What sound can be uttered by one who does not sing the songs of Zion? Our language is the hymn of Jerusalem. To sing of love for this world is a foreign, barbaric dialect learned in captivity. The one who forgets Jerusalem shall stand silent before God. Yet mere remembrance is insufficient; even her enemies remember her, intent on her destruction. What kind of city is this? They question, who are the Christians? What kind of people do they embody? If only they were not Christians! And yet, though they are captives, they have overcome their captors, still murmuring and filled with rage, wishing to obliterate the holy city that dwells amidst them as a stranger. It is not enough to merely remember; observe how you remember. Some recall with disdain, while others with affection. This is why the psalmist, having stated, “If I forget you, Jerusalem,” immediately adds: “If I do not prefer Jerusalem above my chief joy.” There exists a pinnacle of joy found in our communion with God; there we are sheltered from all temptations and united in fellowship. There, nothing shall delight us except what is good; all need shall die, and perfect bliss shall shine upon us.

He then offers a prayer to God against the enemies of that city: “Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom” (Psalm 136:7). Edom, synonymous with Esau, reminds us of the words of the apostle: “Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated” (Romans 9:13). Esau symbolizes all carnal desires; Jacob indicates all that is spiritual. All fleshly individuals remain adversaries to those of the spirit, as the worldly seek to persecute those yearning for eternity. Therefore, the psalmist, looking back at Jerusalem and pleading with God for its liberation, calls out: “Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom.” Deliver us from carnal individuals, from those who mirror Esau, the elder yet hostile brother. While they were the firstborn, it is the last who are exalted, for fleshly desires have led to the downfall of the firstborn, while the disregard for sensuality has elevated the latter. Others thrive, envy, and persecute. Is this in reference to the day of Jerusalem—when it faced trial, captured, or perhaps the joyful day of Jerusalem—when it is liberated, when it achieves its purpose, becoming a partaker of eternity? “Lord, do not forget those who cried out: ‘Destroy it, destroy it to its foundations’.” Remember well the day they sought to annihilate Jerusalem. For the Church has endured great trials! Those like the sons of Edom—those who are earthly, servants of the devil and his angels, who venerate the hollow and heed only carnal inclinations, cried out: “Eradicate the Christians! Let none be left; annihilate them to the ground!” Did these words not resonate? When such proclamations were made, the persecutors were subdued, and the martyrs crowned in glory.

Then he addresses her: O daughter of Babylon, how wretched you are! (Psalm 135:8). The city is identified as both Babylon and the daughter of Babylon, paralleling Jerusalem and the daughter of Jerusalem, Zion and the daughter of Zion, the Church and its offspring. The term "daughter" indicates a following, while "mother" implies a higher status. Since it inherits the essence of Babylon, it is designated as the daughter of Babylon. O daughter of Babylon, how miserable you are!

“Blessed is he who repays you as you have served us.” What sort of recompense is being contemplated? The psalm closes with, “Blessed is he who takes and dashes your little ones against the rock” (Psalm 135:9). The one called miserable finds happiness in recompensing her for her deeds. Do we wonder what this retribution entails? It signifies a payback. For what has this Babylon done to us? In another psalm, we lament: “The words of the wicked have overcome us.” When we were born, we were overwhelmed by the confusion of this world, stifling us as mere infants under the weight of false notions and various deceptions. Although an infant is destined for citizenship in Jerusalem, predetermined by God, this child finds themselves a prisoner for a season. Upon maturation, when will they learn to love the right things beyond the misguided teachings whispered by their parents? They instruct the child in greed, robbery, daily falsehoods, the service of various idols and devils, and the pursuit of unlawful charms and amulets. What can a young, impressionable child do but emulate the actions of their elders? Babylon tormented us in our infancy, but God, in nurturing us, granted the understanding necessary to break free from the follies taught by our parents.

How shall they repay her? “As she has served us.” Let her offspring in turn be stifled; indeed, break her children and let them perish. What are the young of Babylon? They embody evil desires from their inception. Some must wrestle with hardened passions. When a desire is born, before it solidifies into a habitual evil, let it be dealt with while still minor; do not allow it to gain strength. Should it remain small, shatter it! Fear not its demise; shatter it against the Rock, and that Rock is Christ (1 Corinthians 10:4).

Brothers and sisters, let not your instruments be idle! Sing the songs of Zion to one another. You have listened attentively; so all the more, act upon what you have heard, lest you become like the willows of Babylon, nourished by their streams and yielding no fruit. Rather, yearn for the eternal Jerusalem—wherever your hope dwells, there your life shall follow. In that city, we shall dwell with Christ. Christ is our Head; He now reigns over us from on high; in that realm, He will join us to Himself, and we shall share in the glory of God’s angels. We would dare not conceive of this were it not for the promise of the Truth. As such, long for these truths day and night, reflecting upon them. Despite the world’s bright allure, do not waver nor negotiate with your sinful passions. If it is a formidable adversary, slay it upon the Rock. If it is a minor threat, let it fall against the Rock. Conquer the adults upon the Rock and crush the children against the Rock. Let the Rock prevail. Build your life upon the Rock if you wish to withstand the current, the gust, or the deluge. To arm yourself against trials in this life, let your desire for the eternal Jerusalem flourish and strengthen in your hearts. Your bondage shall dissipate, your joy shall arrive; the final enemy shall be vanquished, and we shall triumph alongside our King, untouched by death.

If He enjoys your music, why do you not sing?" The prophet underscores that these captives, in their silence, aimed not only to express their grief but also to uphold the sanctity of their worship, resisting the temptation to allow God’s enemies to mock the divine melodies.