By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept, when we remembered Zion. On the willows there, we hung our lyres. For there our captors required of us songs, and our tormentors, mirth, saying, "Sing us one of the songs of Zion!" (Verses 1-3)
Trapped by the enemy in foreign territory. No way out. The love and comfort of home seems years past. Except for the memory of its safety and warmth, the former joys are but a thing of the past. Hardly hoped for any more. The song was literal for the Jewish congregation who sang this song. Captured by the Babylonians, the Israelites had suffered great loss, most notably the murders of their babies. Ripped from the arms of their mothers and dashed against rocks in a bloody display of hatred for the Jews. Gut-wrenching infanticide that Israel never forgot. Stripped of their possessions and made to live once again as slaves to the Babylonians, whose nation was built upon nihilistic pleasure and festered in its prosperity, the Jewish people were at the mercy of those in whose land they now found themselves.
The captivity covered them in shame. Well, slavery always does. Whatever we find ourselves bound by will rule us. As refugees, the Jews streamed into the streets of the opulent Babylon carrying only what could be taken in their hands or in the packs on their backs. So in the hands of some there were lyres and small harps. A song in the wilderness, perhaps. Played on blood-splattered instruments in the hope of hearing strains of hymns once sung in peace time. Closing their eyes as they strummed in order to recapture Zion.
It all seemed far away and unreal for me at first blush when I read this psalm this morning, sitting at my table looking out at the patio where palm trees move lightly in the breeze and hummingbirds flit around the flowers. But for most of the world, life is much like Babylonian captivity. ISIS posts videos of captives being beheaded in bloody wrath. Syrians die from chemical weapons, children writhing in the streets, eyes rolled back. Hamas and Israel fight it out over Palestinian territory, while Iran tortures Christian missionaries in its prisons. I'm sure all of them long for home. For what it was like before all the bloodshed and chaos. And, we approach 9/11 tomorrow. The reminder that our enemies are out there, too. Waiting, plotting, perhaps, to take away our freedoms and throw the chains of bondage around our wrists.
For Christians, the world is pretty much a foreign land. All around us there are people trapped in shame or driven by hubris. We are called to humility and love; counter intuitive to the hedonism that drives our meth-driven, alcohol fueled, power hungry, self-satisfied, lustful, joyless society. A place where abortion is lauded as a good thing, the smashing of our children fresh from the womb. And we don't even know we are at war. So trapped are those around us that the enemy is unrecognizable as infanticide (and soon euthanasia) become the accepted method controlling the population and increasing our disposable income. Oh, we are imprisoned. By our own self-centeredness. Our nation is Babylon. And that didn't end well.
How do I live in Babylon? I have xenophobia sometimes. Sometimes I feel the pull toward all the stuff that distracts and enslaves. Babylon says, according to Isaiah 47: "I am and there is no one besides me; I shall not sit as a widow or know the loss of children." Self-sufficient and rich, they don't need God. Those of us who know Him wince at the hubris. Our God is patient. Waits. For a turn of heart. A shift of priorities. An acknowledgment that it is He Who alone is I AM. To the Babylonians, God had this to say as a warning: "Now, therefore, you lovers of pleasures, who sit securely, who say in your heart, 'I am, and there is no one beside me..': These two things shall come upon you in a moment, in a day; the loss of children and widowhood shall come upon you in full measure, in spite of your many sorceries and the great power of your enchantments." Oh, Babylon, listen. We can still be saved! God said: "If My people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land (2 Chronicles 7:14)." On the eve of 9/11, may we pray like never before, for America and for our tumultuous, war-ravaged world.
Trapped by the enemy in foreign territory. No way out. The love and comfort of home seems years past. Except for the memory of its safety and warmth, the former joys are but a thing of the past. Hardly hoped for any more. The song was literal for the Jewish congregation who sang this song. Captured by the Babylonians, the Israelites had suffered great loss, most notably the murders of their babies. Ripped from the arms of their mothers and dashed against rocks in a bloody display of hatred for the Jews. Gut-wrenching infanticide that Israel never forgot. Stripped of their possessions and made to live once again as slaves to the Babylonians, whose nation was built upon nihilistic pleasure and festered in its prosperity, the Jewish people were at the mercy of those in whose land they now found themselves.
The captivity covered them in shame. Well, slavery always does. Whatever we find ourselves bound by will rule us. As refugees, the Jews streamed into the streets of the opulent Babylon carrying only what could be taken in their hands or in the packs on their backs. So in the hands of some there were lyres and small harps. A song in the wilderness, perhaps. Played on blood-splattered instruments in the hope of hearing strains of hymns once sung in peace time. Closing their eyes as they strummed in order to recapture Zion.
It all seemed far away and unreal for me at first blush when I read this psalm this morning, sitting at my table looking out at the patio where palm trees move lightly in the breeze and hummingbirds flit around the flowers. But for most of the world, life is much like Babylonian captivity. ISIS posts videos of captives being beheaded in bloody wrath. Syrians die from chemical weapons, children writhing in the streets, eyes rolled back. Hamas and Israel fight it out over Palestinian territory, while Iran tortures Christian missionaries in its prisons. I'm sure all of them long for home. For what it was like before all the bloodshed and chaos. And, we approach 9/11 tomorrow. The reminder that our enemies are out there, too. Waiting, plotting, perhaps, to take away our freedoms and throw the chains of bondage around our wrists.
For Christians, the world is pretty much a foreign land. All around us there are people trapped in shame or driven by hubris. We are called to humility and love; counter intuitive to the hedonism that drives our meth-driven, alcohol fueled, power hungry, self-satisfied, lustful, joyless society. A place where abortion is lauded as a good thing, the smashing of our children fresh from the womb. And we don't even know we are at war. So trapped are those around us that the enemy is unrecognizable as infanticide (and soon euthanasia) become the accepted method controlling the population and increasing our disposable income. Oh, we are imprisoned. By our own self-centeredness. Our nation is Babylon. And that didn't end well.
How do I live in Babylon? I have xenophobia sometimes. Sometimes I feel the pull toward all the stuff that distracts and enslaves. Babylon says, according to Isaiah 47: "I am and there is no one besides me; I shall not sit as a widow or know the loss of children." Self-sufficient and rich, they don't need God. Those of us who know Him wince at the hubris. Our God is patient. Waits. For a turn of heart. A shift of priorities. An acknowledgment that it is He Who alone is I AM. To the Babylonians, God had this to say as a warning: "Now, therefore, you lovers of pleasures, who sit securely, who say in your heart, 'I am, and there is no one beside me..': These two things shall come upon you in a moment, in a day; the loss of children and widowhood shall come upon you in full measure, in spite of your many sorceries and the great power of your enchantments." Oh, Babylon, listen. We can still be saved! God said: "If My people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land (2 Chronicles 7:14)." On the eve of 9/11, may we pray like never before, for America and for our tumultuous, war-ravaged world.
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