Psalms 137:1 - Meaning and Application

Here we see the daughter of Zion covered with a cloud and living among the daughter of Babylon, God’s people in tears, yet sowing in tears. Their situation was sorrowful both outwardly and inwardly.

First, they were stationed by the rivers of Babylon, in a foreign land, far from home, carried away as prisoners of war. Babylon had become a house of bondage to them, much as Egypt had been at the start of their history. Their captors placed them by the rivers, either to make them work there or because those lonely places suited their grief. If they had to build houses there (Jeremiah 29:5), it was not in busy cities, but by the rivers, where they could be alone with their tears. We find some by the river Chebar (Ezekiel 1:3) and others by the river Ulai (Daniel 8:2).

There they sat down and gave free course to their sorrow. Jeremiah had taught them, under this heavy yoke, to sit alone, keep silent, and put their mouths in the dust (Lamentations 3:28-29). They sat as people who expected to remain there and who accepted it, because it was God’s will. Their tears came when they remembered Zion, the holy hill where the temple stood. Their love for God’s house swallowed up their concern for their own homes. They remembered Zion’s former glory and the joy they had once found in her courts (Lamentations 1:7). They also remembered her ruins and loved even her dust, which was a hopeful sign that God’s favor toward her was not far off (Psalm 102:13-14).

They also put aside their instruments of music. They hung their harps on the willows (Psalm 137:2). These were the harps they used for their own pleasure, and also the Levites’ harps used in God’s worship. They laid them aside because God had called them to mourning, not feasting (Isaiah 22:12), and their hearts were too heavy for music anyway. They had brought their harps hoping they might ease their grief, but their sorrow was too deep for that. Yet there may have been some fault in this, since praising God is never out of season, and we are told in everything to give thanks (Isaiah 24:15-16).

Second, their enemies added cruelty to their trouble. These captors had already stripped them and carried them away, but they went further and mocked them. They demanded songs and laughter from them. This was cruel and inhuman, because even an enemy in misery should be pitied, not trampled on. It was also profane, because they wanted the songs of Zion, songs that had honored God, and used them for mockery. In that way they insulted God himself, as Belshazzar did when he drank wine from the temple vessels. They also mocked their Sabbaths (Lamentations 1:7).

Third, the captives answered with patience. They would not take up their harps again just to please their enemies. They would not answer fools according to their folly. Profane mockers are not to be encouraged, and pearls are not to be thrown before pigs. David wisely kept silent, even from speaking good things, when the wicked were around him, because he knew they would only ridicule him (Psalm 39:1-2). Their reply was gentle and reverent: How can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land? They do not say they cannot sing because they are sad, though that was true enough. They say rather that it is the Lord’s song, a holy thing set apart for temple worship, and they dare not use it among idolaters. Things dedicated to God should not be used for common or sinful amusement. Sometimes God is honored by holy silence as well as by holy speech.

Fourth, they still loved Jerusalem, the city of their solemn gatherings, even while they were in Babylon. Their enemies mocked them for talking so much about Jerusalem and longing for it, but their love did not weaken. They could be laughed at for it, but they could not be laughed out of it (Psalm 137:5-6). Their minds were full of Jerusalem, because they remembered it and did not forget it, even after a long time away. Some had never seen it with their own eyes, knowing it only from report and Scripture, yet it was still fixed in their hearts. Their daily prayers, with windows open toward Jerusalem, kept it ever before them. Their hearts were also full of it, because they prized it above their chief joy. What we truly love, we often think about. Those who rejoice in God make Jerusalem their joy for his sake, and they value the public good above private pleasure.

They show how firmly they meant to keep this love alive by calling a curse on themselves if they ever let it go. In effect, they say, “May I be unable to sing or play the harp if I ever forget the faith of my own people enough to use my music to please Babylon’s people or praise Babylon’s gods.” “Let my right hand forget its skill,” which an experienced musician cannot do unless the hand is disabled. “Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth” if I do not speak well of Jerusalem wherever I am.

Even though they did not dare to sing Zion’s songs among the Babylonians, they could not forget them. As soon as the present restraint was lifted, they would sing them as readily as ever, despite the long break.