But today we sang: "By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept, as we remembered Zion" (Psalm 135:1). Take note of the waters of Babylon. These waters symbolize all that is cherished and transient in this life. One individual might dedicate himself to farming, seeking wealth through it, filling his thoughts with it, and then relishing its fruits—yet, upon reflection, he realizes that what he treasures is merely part of the ebb and flow of Babylon, not the solid foundation of Jerusalem. Another emphasizes the valor of being a soldier, noting how farmers often fear soldiers...
However, the citizens of holy Jerusalem, upon recognizing their captivity, observe how the natural desires and various lusts of humanity can swiftly lead them astray, dragging them into the sea. Realizing this, they do not plunge themselves into the waters of Babylon but choose to sit down and weep—for either those lost to such temptations or for themselves, acknowledging that their actions have led them into Babylon. Sitting down signifies their humility. O holy Zion, where everything is steadfast and nothing shifts! Who has led us here? Why have we forsaken your Creator and your community? In this place of constant flux, it seems that scarcely anyone can grasp a tree firmly enough to pull themselves from the current. Therefore, humbled in our bondage, we must sit by the waters of Babylon, not daring to immerse ourselves in those streams or to take pride in the sorrows of our captivity. Instead, we should sit and weep with contrition. Let us remain by the waters, yet not submerged in them, as a reflection of our humility, lest we be crushed. Remain beside the waters, not within or beneath them; maintain our humility and be silent, as one would in Jerusalem...
For many lament along with the grief of Babylon, having also taken joy in the pleasures of Babylon. When individuals rejoice in gains and mourn losses, both are indeed of Babylon. Your tears should stem from the memory of Zion. If your heart mourns for Zion, then your tears should flow even amid the joys of 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 praise—God's scriptures, commandments, promises, and reflections on eternal life. Yet, while residing in Babylon, they hang their instruments aside, for willows are barren trees, incapable of yielding anything fruitful. Here, their understanding of those barren trees by the waters of Babylon reveals that they are nourished solely by the transient delights of that place, bearing no fruit of virtue. Many live caught in greed and selfishness, devoid of good works, becoming citizens of Babylon, feasting on fleeting pleasures as though they are sustained by the waters of Babylon. Seek therefore for fruit among them, and you shall find none... Hence, setting the application of Scripture aside, we leave our instruments hung upon the willows, deeming them unworthy of carrying our melodies. Therefore we choose not to engage with them, reserving our praise. For the willows are the barren trees of Babylon, sustained by momentary pleasures as if by the waters of that land.
"By there, those who captivated us required of us words of songs, and those who led us away demanded from us a hymn" (Psalm 135:3). They beckoned us for melodies and hymns, the captors of our souls... We find ourselves entangled with the superficial joys of worldly matters, struggling daily against the allure of sinful pleasures; even prayer brings us little relief: we recognize our state of captivity. But who has taken us captive? What sort of folk? What lineage? What ruler? If we have been redeemed, we were once prisoners. Who redeemed us? Christ. From whom did He redeem us? From the adversary. Thus, it was the devil and his minions who ensnared us, and they would not have succeeded unless we had acquiesced...
So, those who captured us, the adversary and his minions, when they demanded of us: “Sing us one of the songs of Zion?” what response can we provide? Babylon occupies you, Babylon sustains you, Babylon gives voice to your speech. You remain unaware of how to grasp the radiance of the present, nor contemplate the eternal. "How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?" (Psalm 135:4). Truly, brethren, that is indeed the plight. Aspire to proclaim the truth as you know it, and you will witness the scoffers who persecute the truth with their deceptions. Respond to those who inquire, with the steadfast confidence of your sacred song: "How shall we sing the Lord's song in a foreign land?"
But observe how you dwell among them, O people of God, O body of Christ, O noble assembly of sojourners—your rightful home is elsewhere. Lest in your affection for them, you seek their companionship and, unmindful of pleasing them, lose sight of Jerusalem. Therefore, in caution, pay heed to the psalmist’s addition, for he proclaims: “If I forget you, O Jerusalem” (Psalm 136:5), amidst the whispers of those who captivate me, amidst the words of deceitful men, amidst the inquiries made with malice, asking yet unwilling to learn... What then? Should I forget you, O Jerusalem, may 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). This means let me be mute, if I fail to recall you. What words, what sounds can escape the lips of one who does not lift up the songs of Zion? It is our native tongue, the song of Jerusalem. The song that revels in worldly delights is a foreign tongue, an uncouth language learned in our captivity. He who forgets Jerusalem shall stand mute before God. Yet mere remembrance is insufficient; even her enemies recall her, with intentions to bring her low. What manner of city is this? They question—who are the Christians? What sort are these Christians? If they were not Christians... Now, the multitude of captives has overcome their captors, still they murmur and fume, desirous to eradicate the holy city which exists among them as an outsider. Thus, it is not adequate merely to remember; take heed of how you remember. Some remember with animosity, some with affection. And that’s why, when he declares: "If I forget you, Jerusalem..." he promptly adds: "If I do not prioritize Jerusalem in the height of my joy..."
For there indeed is a height of joy wherein we engage with God, where we are sheltered from the adversarial brotherhood and the unity of citizenship. In that realm, no tempter can assail us, none can lure us into temptation; in that space, only the good shall please us; there every need shall cease, and perfect bliss shall shine upon us.
Then he lays bare a prayer to God against those who oppose that city. "Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom" (Psalm 136:7). Edom is also called Esau; for we have recently heard the apostle declare, "Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated" (Romans 9:13). Thus, Esau represents all things carnal, while Jacob embodies all that is spiritual... All earthly beings are adversaries to those who are spiritual, for those who desire the present persecute those longing for the eternal. Upon them the psalmist, casting his gaze back to Jerusalem and imploring God to liberate it from bondage, declares: "Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom." Deliver us from the carnal, from the imitators of Esau, who are the elder brothers yet remain foes. They were the firstfruits, yet they have become the last; for the lust of the flesh brought down the first, while the nonchalance towards desire elevated the second. Others endure, envy, and persecute on the Day of Jerusalem—the day of trial, the day of captivity, or the joyous day when liberation comes, when one becomes a partaker of eternity?
"Remember," he pleads with the Lord, "do not forget those who said: 'Destroy it, destroy it to its foundations.'" Recall, therefore, the day they sought to annihilate Jerusalem. For what great tribulations did the Church not endure! Like the sons of Edom, that is, carnal men, servants of the adversary and his demons, who made offerings to trees and stones and succumbed to fleshly desires, echoing the cry: "Root out the Christians, annihilate the Christians, let them not be spared, obliterate them to the ground!" Did not such proclamations echo? And when such utterances arose, the persecutors were felled, the martyrs were crowned...
Then he addresses her, "O daughter of Babylon, wretched!"—wretched in your very essence, in your arrogance, in your hostility; O miserable daughter of Babylon! (Psalm 135:8). The city is known as both Babylon and the daughter of Babylon; as Jerusalem is specified alongside the daughter of Jerusalem, or Zion and its daughter, the Church and her daughter. Because she is a successor to the first, she is called the daughter of Babylon. O daughter of Babylon, you miserable one!
"Blessed is he who repays you as you have treated us." What sort of repayment could this imply? This is how the psalm concludes: "Blessed is he who takes your little ones and dashes them against the rock" (Psalm 135:9). To her, he refers as miserable, yet blessed is the one who exacts from her as she has done to us. Do we ponder what that recompense entails? It is indeed retribution. For what wrongs has this Babylon inflicted upon us? We have already sung in another psalm: "The words of the wicked have overwhelmed us." For at our birth, the confusion of this world assaulted us and suffocated us, even as infants, with vain notions and deceptions. The infant, who was destined to be a citizen of Jerusalem, is predetermined by God to be a rightful citizen, yet temporarily imprisoned; when shall he learn to cherish the genuine over the illusions whispered in the ears by the corrupt? They instruct him and mold him in greed, theft, daily falsehoods, worship of various idols and demons, and the use of illicit charms and talismans. What can a child, an innocent soul, do but mirror what he witnesses in the actions of elders? Thus, Babylon persecuted us in our youth, but God, as we matured, granted us self-awareness so we would shun the follies of our progenitors...
How then do they repay her? As she has served us. Let her offspring be stifled in return; indeed, let her children be shattered and perish. What are the little ones of Babylon? Evil desires from inception. For there exist those who must contend with hardened cravings. When a desire takes form, before it gains strength as an entrenched habit against you, when it is still feeble, do not allow it to flourish into an evil practice; when it is small, break it. Yet you might fear that even if it is shattered, it will not survive; break it upon the Rock; that Rock is Christ (1 Corinthians 10:4).
Brethren, do not let your instruments fall silent in your endeavors; sing the songs of Zion to one another. You have readily received this; so be quick to act on what you have heard, lest you become the willows of Babylon, sustained by its waters yet bearing no fruit. Instead, yearn for the eternal Jerusalem: where your hope resides, therein your life shall follow; there we shall dwell with Christ. Christ now reigns over us from above, and in that city, He shall draw us to Himself, and we shall be equal with the angels of God. We could not dare to conceive such a reality if the Truth were not its promise. Thus, desire, brethren, these truths day and night and ponder upon them. Regardless of how splendid the world may appear, do not entertain or bargain with your cravings.