A holy hatred?

By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept

    when we remembered Zion.
² There on the poplars
    we hung our harps,
³ for there our captors asked us for songs,
    our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
    they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

⁴ How can we sing the songs of the Lord
    while in a foreign land?
⁵ If I forget you, Jerusalem,
    may my right hand forget its skill.
⁶ May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth
    if I do not remember you,
if I do not consider Jerusalem
    my highest joy.

⁷ Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did
    on the day Jerusalem fell.
“Tear it down,” they cried,
    “tear it down to its foundations!”
⁸ Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,
    happy is the one who repays you
    according to what you have done to us.
⁹ Happy is the one who seizes your infants
    and dashes them against the rocks.   Psalm 137

 

Last time I reflected on the first six verses of Psalm 137 – on the need, first, to respect the place of “culture” in Christian discipleship while always ensuring that it never takes over from true spiritual faith; and, second, on the tragedy of loneliness, especially homesickness, and our responsibility, as Christians, to keep an eye open for the lonely people all around us, and to make them feel welcome (Matthew 25:35).

 

(Friends International is a nation-wide Christian organisation dedicated to welcoming, evengelising and supporting overseas students in British universities and colleges - a perfect charity to support if you would like to help people who may be feeling like the psalmist in verse 1.)

 

But I never got onto the shocking final verses of the psalm. They consist of a prayer to God that he will punish the people of Edom (verse 7), and then a curse against the Babylonians, who had come and destroyed their temple and their city, inflicted great cruelties on them, and carried them off into exile (verses 8-9).

These verses throw up various questions, and if we are thinking Christians we need to confront them.

 

First, what are such verses doing in the Bible?

 

The short answer is: demonstrating its honesty. God’s word tells us not only about the nature of God, but also about human nature: that it is wicked and corrupt. Psalm 137:7-9 is, sadly, by no means alone in reflecting that corruption (the book of Judges, taken as a whole, is if anything even more grim). We need to look facts in the face – in this case, that war is a horrible, evil thing (even if sometimes a sadly necessary evil), and the Bible makes that very clear.

 

Second, does the fact that these words are in the Bible mean it’s OK to feel this way?

 

The short answer again: No. No follower of Jesus can possibly echo such vengeful, hate-filled sentiments without feeling guilty.

 

Third, the big question, so what should we make of these verses; how can they become part of our spiritual lives?

 

I think - stating quite an obvious point, but one that it’s easy to overlook - we need to distinguish between the prayer of verse 7 and the curse of verses 8-9.

 

In verse 7 the writer asks God to do something – to “remember” the spiteful, gloating reaction of the Edomites on that terrible day when Jerusalem fell to the Babylonians. (Look up Obadiah 10-14.) What exactly that “remembering” might be in practice he is content to leave up to God. Obviously he wants some form of punishment, but more than that he doesn’t say. Taken at face value, his tone is actually quite mild.

 

In the same way we today might pray that God will “remember” those who kill and torture Christians and other victims of injustice – or even, more precisely, that he might “remember” President Putin in the light of the Ukraine war.

 

It’s verses 8-9 that we flinch from. I used the words “vengeful” and “hate-filled”, and I think that’s fair.

 

But surely what the psalmist is really wanting, in the cold light of day, is justice; and justice is part of God’s very essence, part of his holiness. So though the writer’s sentiment is decidedly sub-Christian (no ifs, no buts, please), what has happened is that his desire for something which is good in itself has become twisted and poisoned by his natural feelings. I think in a calmer moment he will have prayed differently.

 

I remember standing in the front room of a friend and his wife as they surveyed the trashed state of their home following a break-in. My friend was a strong Christian who occupied a leadership position in the church. As he stood there he spat out, almost under his breath, the vicious word “Bastards!”.

 

We never referred to it afterwards, and certainly I never so much as dreamed of rebuking him, even though I was his pastor. There was no need. Not that his expletive was right or justifiable; it wasn’t. But he didn’t need to be told, by me or by anybody else. Although the setting is very different, I see the psalmist’s words in the same light.

 

We know well the story of how Simon Peter disowned Jesus before the crucifixion. But do we remember equally well that in the lead-up to that moment he “began to curse and swear” (Matthew 26:74)? Jesus’ rebuke, if that’s what it was, was mild and full of compassion – he “turned and looked straight at Peter” (Luke 23:61). And, of course, just a little later he (would you believe it!) made him the leader of his church (John 21:15-19).

 

God is a God of perfect justice, and many things are done each day which cry out for justice. As Christians we should indeed pray that God’s justice will prevail in our world. And that is precisely what the writer of Psalm 137 is doing, though sadly in a perverted and distorted manner.

 

And, of course, we should never forget the prayer of Jesus for his tormentors: “Father, forgive them…” Wonderful, wonderful words.

 

Thank you, Father, for the honesty of your word in portraying human sin, even when it makes us uncomfortable. Give me, Lord, a holy hatred for all that is corrupt and wrong. Even more, give me grace to respond to it in the loving spirit of Jesus. Amen.