Story of the Psalms ~ Part Two

 

I pray you have found the morning meditation series on the psalms meaningful, offering you some new insights, as well as provoking questions about these ancient hymns/poems/prayers of faith.  I pray you will continue to read the psalms in the days and months to come.  As we wrap up and wind down this exploration of the psalms, there are a few thoughts I’d like to share with you.  Eugene Peterson says that we can tend to think that religion is about the right clothes or polished prayers, and that what we often offer on Sunday is a carefully curated version of our best self.  God wants us to be honest.  In Psalm 137, the poet starts off with a lament:

 Alongside Babylon’s rivers
    we sat on the banks; we cried and cried,
    remembering the good old days in Zion.
Alongside the quaking aspens
    we stacked our unplayed harps;
That’s where our captors demanded songs,
    sarcastic and mocking:
    “Sing us a happy Zion song!”

When/where are you sitting by a pool of your own tears right now?  The setting of the Psalm is exile in Babylon where the people of God had been captured and carted off when a foreign empire had defeated the Israelites and took over Jerusalem.  They have left the Promised Land of their ancestors and are now in a foreign land under the thumb of a leader.  So, of course, they cry!  Eugene Petersons, “Tears are a biological gift from God, a physical and cathartic release of what is uneasy within us”.  Tears don’t show us what is wrong, but what is right and what we value, because at the basic level when we cry there is some unease within us or around us.  Tears show us where we hurt, which can also open us to what healing and wholeness would look like.  For example, I cry when I drop my kids off at college because I value the relationship.  I cry when read the news because I value God’s realm where ALL are received as beloved.  The last line is particularly poignant, the captors mock the people of Israel, treat them like they are playthings for their entertainment.  Where are you feeling pushed down or pushed aside right now?  The psalmist continues,

Oh, how could we ever sing God’s song
    in this wasteland?
If I ever forget you, Jerusalem,
    let my fingers wither and fall off like leaves.
Let my tongue swell and turn black
    if I fail to remember you,
If I fail, O dear Jerusalem,
    to honor you as my greatest.

Sometimes we don’t feel like we can sing or raise a song of praise.  Sometimes the most honest and heartfelt emotion is anger, which we hear in the final verses:

God, remember those Edomites,
    and remember the ruin of Jerusalem,
That day they yelled out,
    “Wreck it, smash it to bits!”
And you, Babylonians—ravagers!
    A reward to whoever gets back at you
    for all you’ve done to us;
Yes, a reward to the one who grabs your babies
    and smashes their heads on the rocks!

Um, wow, that takes a turn toward violence at the end, doesn’t it?  We pray the anger or hate because it is real and for this real emotion to find release.  In those places where hope seems not just foolish, but so distant and disconnected we can’t just deny or distance ourselves from the energy and emotion of anger that is within us.  Hold the words above close to your heart and let the images help you find your voice about the rivers of tears, the silence of songs, and the hurt that can turn to hate, all of which the Psalms say we can share with the Sacred.