Our Lament is Holy

A Study of Psalm 137 -Lament over the Destruction of Jerusalem

1 By the rivers of Babylon—    there we sat down and there we wept    when we remembered Zion.2 On the willows[a] there    we hung up our harps.3 For there our captors    asked us for songs,and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying,    “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” 4 How could we sing the Lord’s song    in a foreign land?5 If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither!6 Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth, if I do not remember you,if I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy. 7 Remember, O Lord, against the Edomites the day of Jerusalem’s fall,how they said, “Tear it down! Tear it down! Down to its foundations!”8 O daughter Babylon, you devastator![b] Happy shall they be who pay you back what you have done to us!9 Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!

Psalm 137 allows the space to voice the complicated grief, a dark one that Ancient Israel understood as important to obtain breakthrough. This dark place and emotion is one that mainline Christianity has mostly detached itself from, and teaches us to avoid.

However, Psalm 137 presents us with an interesting situation. It is not a psalm of praise, and yet it was chosen to be included in this compilation of work. I believe it is because God, the psalmist, and Ancient Israel understood that while lament is hard to navigate, it is an intentional and holy process. 

When we think about lament, it appears in many of the biblical narratives, and a matter of fact was a called upon ritual for individuals and communities when facing immense grief and chaos. In this current time, I think it’s important for us to revisit Psalm 137 as a reminder to us that our lament is holy.

So first let’s take a look at the historical and social context of Psalms so we can understand how this specific Psalm functions.

Psalm 137 is a lament written by one of the exiled children of Israel. Biblical scholar Michael Coogan explains that the book of Psalms is constructed by more than one psalmist and is considered to be an anthology of psalms written by various priestly families or groups. The psalms also have different titles which hint towards their focus or purpose. Some are simply general psalms, while others are directed towards someone or something, some are in the narrative voice of a Hebrew character, others are called songs, and even some are constructed more as prayers. While most of the Psalms are hard to date to a specific time, Psalm 137 immediately states its historical and social context in verse one. “Alongside Babylon’s streams, there we sat down, crying because we remembered Zion.” The mentioning of Babylonian authority and torturing from the Edomites confirm that this Psalm was written after the destruction of Jerusalem around 587 B.C.E. during the period of exile. 

As for the social and literary form of  this psalm, the biblical poetic form found in Psalms utilizes repetition to serve as a magnifying glass, focusing the meaning on a specific point or emotional/mental state of the writer.  As a result, the focus of the psalms are not always to point towards a resolution of a situation, but to highlight the mental and emotional journey that usually leads to a breakthrough of faith. Scholar Robert Alter describes it as, “the psalmist realizing the spiritual vision,”  through the release and expression of all thoughts and emotions, which makes it a timeless narrative. This is why to this day we can revisit the psalms as if they are our current reality.

The psalms also provide a glimpse into what worship looked like for ancient Israel. They weren’t just  a form of poetic expression for ancient Israel, but also forms of liturgy to help articulate their faith and life into their worship, and more importantly name a reality that would have been dismissed by the dominant narratives written by their oppressors. Meaning, some of the psalms served as a way for Israel to name truths and injustice that greater society tried to ignore, suppress, and erase. The social context of Psalm 137 points towards the need to document the rage and impact of the exile period for Israel. The psalmist wrote psalm 137 to not only navigate lament, but to also remind all who read it not to allow greater society to repeat the same ills of the past. 

So why am I choosing this psalm to talk about tonight? Well because a lot of the grief and lament we are navigating right now isn’t solely because of Coronavirus, our lament is currently entangled with the virus, the government mishandling of navigating the crisis, and also the systemic attack on communities that were already being mistreated. Meaning our lament isn’t just an individual journey right now, it is communal. The great Zora Neale Hurston said, “if you stay silent about your pain, they will kill you and say you enjoyed it.”

Psalm 137 speaks to our pain and grief right now. It serves us two fold, I believe it helps us understand the deeper healing of darkness and trauma that comes with lament, which eventually leads to healing and great awakening, and it reminds us to not be silent about it. Theologian Walter Brueggemann calls it a poem of disorientation, that leads us to utilize our faith as a means of reorientation.”  Meaning that through expressing our lament, we find the faith language and connection to reconnect and establish ourselves from an anchored place, and also demand greater society to support and be accountable.

So let’s jump into this text.

1 By the rivers of Babylon— there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion. 2 On the willows[a] there we hung up our harps. 3 For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” 4 How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land? 5 If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither! 6 Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth, if I do not remember you, if I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy.

Israel had known better days. Although their past had its downs, they experienced brighter days. Days where they knew they could make a way in spaces that sought to make them fail. A time when they could find resources and utilize their creativity to create what they needed. Times where they were more joyous and sang songs of praise and celebration.

But here they are now, deeply suffering. Stripped from their homeland, no longer able to utilize their resources, their creativity strained by overwhelming grief and anxiety, and no joy to be found. Their songs of praise had been turned into wailing. But that’s not even the worst of it. On top of all these things, their captors who had taken everything from them taunted them. Told them to sing them songs of Zion, songs from the glory days. Their captors expected Israel to allow them to kill them as if they enjoyed it. 

Is this not our current history too? I can’t help but to think of those who were enslaved creating the spirituals that we still find in our hymnals today. Or what about the great poets, authors, artists, musicians, and creators that emerged during times of segregation, internment camps, mass genocide, hatred and discrimination. Just like Israel we have lived and continue to live in a society that wants us to sing songs of Zion while silencing our grief and suffering. But there’s just something powerful about songs of lament.

There is something about the Blues that speaks to the soul too. Sometimes I feel like a motherless child, Strange Fruit, Frederick Douglass asking “What is the 4th of July to the Slave”, Langston Hughes writing Salvation, Marvin Gaye asking What’s going on? August Wilson’s play Joe Turner’s Come and Gone, I believe Sojourner asked Ain’t I a woman? And Michael Jackson sang “They Don’t Really Care About Us”. We too have proclaimed songs of lament like Israel in the faces of those who’d rather hear songs of Zion. 

Verses 7-9 continue with the psalmist proclaiming a damnation unto those who harmed Israel. 7 Remember, O Lord, against the Edomites the day of Jerusalem’s fall, how they said, “Tear it down! Tear it down! Down to its foundations!” 8 O daughter Babylon, you devastator![a] Happy shall they be who pay you back what you have done to us! 9 Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!

This is a very dark death wish isn’t it? Many times when ministers use this text, they leave out these three verses because it’s hard interpreting how we are to understand its application. I don’t think the psalmist wanted Israel to simply join in on wishing ill of its enemies. I think these three verses speak to the poetic nature of this psalm. The psalmist wanted Israel to get  the depth of turmoil, anger, and suffering they were going through. It would be a disservice to simply look at these three verses as an angry rant. These three verses serve as a warning to Israel’s descendants to not fall into the same captivity as they did. Not to be silent about their suffering and the wrongdoings of society.

Writer and Poet Audre Lorde said, “Your silence won’t protect you”, and I believe this is what the psalmist in this chapter wanted Israel’s descendants to understand also. Your lament is holy, and we ought to make space for it. When we are able to navigate periods of disorientation without being silenced, we are able to draw upon the strength, wisdom, and faith of those who have come before us in order to reorient ourselves into positions of courage, strength, and healing. 

Right now we are navigating not only the crisis of this virus, but also leadership that’s refusing to take accountability and protect its citizens, medical racism and economic disparities being exacerbated by limiting resources and accessibility to testing and care.

We are sitting beside the rivers of Babylon, and now is not the time to silence our grief by masking it with songs of Zion. How can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land? How can we sing songs of Zion for our tormentors as if things are ok? Our lament is just as holy as our songs of Zion, and I believe that we ought to make room for our grief to breathe, to be shouted, screamed, cried out, and not remain a secret to the masses.

It was the songs of lament that also carried Israel through exile, the songs of lament that empowered our ancestors to wade in the water towards freedom believing that God would trouble the water for their enemies. Our lament has served as songs of healing, songs of protest, songs of determination, and songs of faith. While I don’t believe God requires us to be in grief and suffering, God never allows the tools of evil to have the final say.  That is why our lament is holy, a tool of healing, a tool of resistance, a tool of protest, and a tool of liberation. Do not feel guilt or shame if you are in a space of deep lament. Sometimes disorientation is necessary in order for us to reorient ourselves with God’s divine plan for us. How do we sing the songs of Zion in a foreign land? We don’t, we sing our songs of lament for they are just as holy too!

Works Cited

  •  Coogan, Michael D. The Old Testament: A Historical and Literary Introduction to the Hebrew Scriptures. Vol. 3. New York: Oxford University Press, 2014. Textbook. 01 May 2019.

  • Structures of Intensification, Forms of Faith in Psalms.” The Art of Biblical Poetry, by Robert Alter, Basic Books, 2011, pp. Pages 62–84, -111–136.

  • Brueggemann, Walter. The Message of the Psalms. Ausburg Publishing House, 1984.

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