137:1KJV By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.
B:E Project By the rivers of Babylon, we sat down and wept, remembering Zion.
Context: This lament psalm comes from Jewish exiles in Babylon after Jerusalem's destruction (around 586 BC) - raw, unfiltered grief for a lost homeland, moving by its end into anger and a desire for vengeance.
Meaning: This opens with pure, physical grief - sitting down by foreign rivers, weeping at the memory of home. There's no attempt to spiritualise or minimise the pain; it's presented exactly as it was felt.
Lesson: Grief doesn't need to be tidied up or explained away before you're allowed to feel it. Sit in it if you need to - I'm not asking you to perform strength you don't have.
See Also: Lamentations 1:1-2 (the same catastrophe mourned in a companion book); John 11:35 (Jesus himself weeps openly at a friend's death).
137:2KJV We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof.
B:E Project We hung our harps on the willow trees there.
Context: Continuing the picture of grief - the exiles silence their instruments of joyful worship, hanging them up unused.
Meaning: A harp was for singing and celebration; hanging it up unused is a physical symbol of grief so deep that joy itself feels impossible or inappropriate right now.
Lesson: There are seasons where forcing yourself to perform happiness would be dishonest. It's alright to set down the things that represent joy for a while, until you're genuinely ready to pick them up again.
See Also: Ecclesiastes 3:4 ('a time to weep... a time to mourn').
137:3KJV For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song; and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion.
B:E Project For there, our captors demanded a song from us; those who had devastated us demanded entertainment, saying, 'Sing us one of the songs of Zion!'
Context: The exiles' captors mockingly ask for the very worship songs of the destroyed homeland - adding humiliation on top of loss.
Meaning: This is a cruel request - asking devastated, grieving people to perform happy songs about the very home that's just been destroyed, essentially for entertainment. It highlights the added indignity layered onto real suffering.
Lesson: I notice when people are asked to perform emotions they don't actually feel, for someone else's comfort or entertainment. You never owe anyone a performance of feelings you don't have.
See Also: Isaiah 51:23 (a similar picture of tormentors demanding degrading acts from the suffering).
137:4KJV How shall we sing the LORD’s song in a strange land?
B:E Project How can we possibly sing the Lord's song in a foreign land?
Context: This rhetorical question captures the exiles' core dilemma - their sacred songs feel meaningless, even impossible, ripped from their proper context and homeland.
Meaning: This isn't really a question expecting an answer - it's an expression of the disorientation of displacement, where the things that used to make sense suddenly don't fit the new, foreign reality.
Lesson: When you've lost the context that made parts of your life make sense, it's honest to admit you don't currently know how to do the things that used to come naturally. That confusion isn't failure - it's grief working itself out.
See Also: Psalm 42:3 ('my tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, Where is thy God?').
137:5KJV If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.
B:E Project If I forget you, Jerusalem, may my right hand lose its skill.
Context: The exile's grief turns into a personal vow of loyalty - swearing never to forget the destroyed homeland, even in exile.
Meaning: This is an oath tying the singer's own physical ability (a skilled hand, presumably for playing an instrument) to their fidelity to a memory - a vivid way of saying 'let something in me break if I ever let this go.'
Lesson: Staying loyal to what genuinely matters to you - your roots, your people, your deepest values - even when it costs you or when everyone around you has moved on, is a real form of integrity worth holding onto.
See Also: Psalm 122:6 ('Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: they shall prosper that love thee').
137:6KJV If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy.
B:E Project If I don't keep remembering you, may my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth - if I don't treasure Jerusalem above my greatest joy.
Context: The vow of verse 5 intensifies here, doubling down with an even more extreme self-curse tied to the singer's ability to speak or sing at all.
Meaning: This escalates the previous verse's oath - now risking the ability to speak, not just play music, if the memory of home ever becomes less important than personal happiness.
Lesson: What you refuse to let become secondary says a lot about your character. There's something admirable in refusing to let personal comfort quietly replace what actually matters most to you.
See Also: Matthew 6:33 ('seek ye first the kingdom of God' - a similar principle of refusing to let anything outrank what matters most).
137:7KJV Remember, O LORD, the children of Edom in the day of Jerusalem; who said, Rase it, rase it, even to the foundation thereof.
B:E Project Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did on the day Jerusalem fell - how they said, 'Tear it down, tear it down, right to its foundations!'
Context: The psalm's tone shifts from personal grief to appeal for justice, recalling how the neighbouring Edomites cheered on or assisted in Jerusalem's destruction rather than helping their kin.
Meaning: This names a specific, deep betrayal - not just an enemy attacking, but a related people (Edom traditionally descended from Esau, Jacob's brother) actively encouraging total destruction. The appeal is for God to remember and hold that betrayal to account.
Lesson: It is honest, not sinful, to name real betrayal and ask for it to matter - to not simply be forgotten or excused. Bringing that anger to me directly is far healthier than either burying it or acting it out yourself.
See Also: Obadiah 1:10-14 (an entire short prophetic book condemning Edom specifically for this betrayal).
137:8KJV O daughter of Babylon, who art to be destroyed; happy shall he be, that rewardeth thee as thou hast served us.
B:E Project Daughter Babylon, you who are doomed to destruction - happy will be the one who pays you back for what you did to us.
Context: The psalm turns its anger towards Babylon itself, the empire that destroyed Jerusalem and carried the people into exile, wishing for reciprocal justice.
Meaning: This is a raw cry for retributive justice - 'may what you did to us be done back to you.' It reflects the ancient legal principle of measure-for-measure justice, expressed here as a passionate wish rather than a plan of personal action.
Lesson: There's a real difference between honestly wishing suffering back on someone who has genuinely harmed you and actually going out to inflict it yourself. I want you to bring me the first, not act on the second - I taught leaving justice in God's hands rather than taking it into your own.
See Also: Isaiah 13:1-19 and Jeremiah 50-51 (extensive prophecies of Babylon's eventual downfall, which did later occur); Romans 12:19 ('Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord').
137:9KJV Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones.
B:E Project Happy will be the one who takes your infants and smashes them against the rocks.
Context: This is the psalm's most violent and disturbing line, an ancient siege-warfare curse wishing devastating retribution on Babylon, matching in horror what conquering armies (including Babylon's own) were known to actually do to defeated populations' children.
Meaning: This verse must be read honestly as raw, wounded rage - not as a command God endorses or as something the Bible presents as morally exemplary. It's the unfiltered cry of people who had genuinely suffered atrocity, expressing their pain in the most extreme terms their culture had for describing total devastation, mirroring language used elsewhere for the fall of cruel empires.
Lesson: I want you to bring me your ugliest, most violent feelings honestly rather than burying them or, worse, acting them out on someone else. There's a real difference between telling me 'I want them to suffer as I suffered' and actually going out to make it happen - the first can be a form of healing, the second causes more of exactly the pain this psalm is grieving. I taught love of enemies, not because rage isn't real, but because acting on it perpetuates the very cycle this psalm cries out against.
See Also: Matthew 5:44 (Jesus: 'love your enemies, bless them that curse you'); Romans 12:19 (leaving vengeance to God rather than taking it personally); Isaiah 13:16 and Nahum 3:10 (similar ancient siege-curse language used elsewhere against cruel empires, showing this was a known form of expressing total judgement, not unique to this psalm).