If I forget Jerusalem
Recalling acts of abuse or injustice can be excruciating. But it’s vital for us to process our related grief and anger. Doing so, the psalmist resolves to cling to her hope of rebuilding Jerusalem, no matter the cost.
1 By the rivers of Babylon
we sat down and wept
as we remembered Zion.
2 There on the willow trees
we hung up our lyres
3 because our captors asked for songs—
those who plundered us wanted a laugh:
“Sing us one of your Zion songs!”
4 But how could we sing any of Yahveh’s songs
there in a foreign land?
5 If I forget you, Jerusalem
may my right hand wither.
6 May my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth
if I don’t remember you
if I don’t count Jerusalem my highest joy!
7 Don’t forget the Edomites, Yahveh
on the day of Jerusalem—
how they said, “Raze it!
Raze it down to its foundations!”
8 Beautiful brain-bashing Babylon
doomed to destruction:
Blessed is the one who pays you back in kind
for what you did to us.
9 Blessed is the one who grabs your little ones
and bashes them against the rock.
Beside the same rivers that nourished Eden’s beautiful trees, the psalmist’s tormentors demanded songs celebrating Zion’s unrivalled place in the world. Having destroyed Jerusalem, they now wanted fodder for their mockery. The psalmist and her fellow captives refused, hanging their lyres on the willows in anguish, the trees now representing loss, not abundance.
Zion was where God lived to manifest his just rule on earth, offering grace and peace to all. The psalmist refuses to give that dream up, though she can’t reconcile it with her exile to Babylon either. But with everything else of value stripped away, she refuses to abandon her vision of Zion, no matter how impossible it seems. In fact, she’s prepared to cling to that hope even if it costs her health, her life.
Now her images of Zion ring with harsh Edomite cries and blind her with visions of Babylonians smashing Israelite babies’ heads against the rock. She ends her psalm with what seems an all-too-human outburst of vitriol but is in fact a declaration of faith in God’s justice. She shockingly affirms what Isaiah prophesied: that God would ensure that the Babylonians’ evils are done in turn to them (Isa. 13:16). She thus gives her anger to God, accepts his judgment, and turns vengeance over to him.
Lord, I hate seeing brokenness or pain. But you’d also have me resist evil and weep with those who weep, not pretend things are fine in Babylon. Help me see that compassion can’t exist without justice, to take justice on your terms, and to seek first the kingdom you’re building on earth. Amen.
During your free moments today, say these words:
If I forget you, Jerusalem
may my right hand wither.
May my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth
if I don’t remember you
if I don’t count Jerusalem my highest joy!
