John Calvin Commentary Psalms 137

By the rivers of Babylon there we sat down. I have elsewhere said that it is a great mistake to suppose that it is David who here prophetically informs the people of God of the captivity that would come upon them. The Prophets, in speaking of future events, employ very different language.

What is presented here is the event as it has now historically occurred and become a matter of experience. We will briefly explain the scope of the Psalmist. There was a danger that the Jews, when cast off in such a distressing manner, would lose hold altogether of their faith and their religion.

Considering how ready we are, when mingled with the wicked and ungodly, to fall into superstition or evil practices, it was to be feared that they might become profane among the population of Babylon. Moreover, the people of the Lord might be thrown into despondency by their captivity, the cruel bondage to which they were subjected, and the other indignities that they had to endure.

The writer of this Psalm, whose name is unknown, drew up a form of lamentation so that by giving expression to their sufferings in sighs and prayers, they might keep alive the hope of that deliverance of which they despaired. Another purpose he has in view is to warn them against the decline of godliness in an irreligious land and against defilement with the contaminations of the heathen.

Accordingly, he denounces merited judgment upon the children of Edom and declares that Babylon—whose prosperity, short-lived as it was destined to be in itself, eclipsed at that time the rest of the world—was an object of pity and near destruction.

The length of time during which the captivity lasted can itself convince us how useful and even necessary it must have been to support the discouraged minds of God’s people. They must have been ready to acquiesce in the corrupt practices of the heathen unless endowed with surprising mental fortitude throughout a period of seventy years.

When they are said to have sat, this denotes a continued period of captivity, signifying that they were not only torn from the sight of their native country but were, in a way, buried and entombed. The demonstrative adverb of place, שם (sham, meaning “there”), is emphatic, setting the subject, as it were, before the eyes of the reader.

Though the pleasantness of the country, irrigated by streams, might have had an effect in soothing their dejected minds, we are told that the Lord’s people, as long as they dwelt there, were continually in tears. The particle גם (gam, meaning “even”) is used as an intensive, to show us that those who truly feared the Lord could not be tempted by all the luxuries of Babylon to forget their native inheritance.

The language also suggests that they were not so entirely overwhelmed by their calamities as not to recognize in them the deserved chastisement of God, and that they were not to be accused of obstinately struggling against Him; for tears are the expression of humility and penitence, as well as of distress.

This appears even more plainly from the fact that it was Zion they remembered, which proves that what had charms for them was not any worldly advantage they might enjoy there, but the worship of God. God had erected His sanctuary like a banner on Mount Zion, so that as often as they looked to it, they might be assured of His salvation.

Therefore, however fair and fertile the region where they dwelt was, with charms that could corrupt minds prone to indulgence, and however long they were detained in it, their tears—which are proverbially soon dried up—never ceased to stream from their eyes, because they were cut off from the worship of God, which they were accustomed to attend, and felt that they were torn from the inheritance of promise.

We hanged our harps upon the willows. He deplores the suspension of the songs of praise, which God had commanded in his Temple. The Levites were put in charge of the singing and led the people in this devotional exercise. If it is asked how they had carried their harps with them so far from their native land, this provides another proof mentioned by the Psalmist of their faith and fervent piety. For the Levites, when stripped of all their possessions, had preserved their harps at least as a precious item, to be used again for their original purpose when the opportunity arose.

We may suppose that those who truly feared God placed a high value on the remnants of his worship and showed the greatest care in preserving them until the time of their restoration. When willows are mentioned, this indicates the pleasantness of the riverbanks, which were planted with willows to provide coolness.

But the Psalmist says that these shady places, however delightful, could not dispel a grief too deeply seated to admit of common consolations or refreshment. As they sat on the riverbanks, covered with the shade of the trees, this was just the place where they might have been tempted to take up their harps and soothe their griefs with song. However, the Psalmist suggests that their minds were too heavily wounded by a sense of the Lord’s displeasure to deceive themselves with such superficial comforts.

He would even go further, suggesting that joy of a good and holy kind was suspended at this time. For although it was neither right nor wise to encourage their grief, we cannot wonder that the public singing of praises was given up until their return from captivity, since God’s chastisements called them to mourning and lamentation.

Then they that carried us away captive, etc. We can be certain that the Israelites were treated with cruel severity under this barbarous tyranny to which they were subjected. And the worst affliction of all was that their conquerors reproachfully insulted them and even mocked them, their intention being less to wound the hearts of these miserable exiles than to direct blasphemies against their God.

The Babylonians had no desire to hear their sacred songs and very likely would not have allowed them to engage in the public praises of God. But they spoke ironically, and insinuated it as a reproach against the Levites that they should be silent, when it was formerly their custom to sing sacred songs.

It was as if they had said, "Is your God dead, to whom your praises were formerly addressed? Or if he delights in your songs, why do you not sing them?"

The last clause of the verse has been rendered in various ways by interpreters. Some derive תוללינו (tholalenu) from the verb ללי (yalal), to howl, reading — they required mirth in our howlings. Others translate it suspensions of mirth. Some take it as a participle of the verb הלל (halal), to rage, and read, raging against us. But since תלינו (talinu), the root of the noun used here, is taken in the preceding verse to mean "to suspend," I considered the reading I have adopted to be the simplest one.

How shall we sing, etc. The Psalmist puts a lofty and magnanimous answer into the mouths of the Lord’s people in response to their insolent reproach: they abstained from their songs, just as they did from their legal sacrifices, because the land where they were then living was polluted. The Chaldeans thought the Jews were bound down permanently to this place of their exile; the Psalmist, when he calls it a foreign land, suggests that it was only the place of their temporary stay.

But the main idea is that Chaldea was not worthy of the honor of having God’s praises sung in it. No doubt, the children of God, wherever they have lived, have always been strangers and foreigners in the world. However, the land of Canaan was the sacred rest provided for them, and the Psalmist aptly describes them as being foreigners and sojourners when they were in other lands.

In this way, the Psalmist wanted them to be always ready and prepared for their return, tacitly reinforcing what Jeremiah had prophesied. To prevent them from forgetting their native country, Jeremiah had specifically foretold the duration of their exile (Jeremiah 25:11; Jeremiah 29:10). Meanwhile, the Psalmist aimed to encourage their constancy and urge them not to coalesce with the Babylonians out of fear.

In our own day, under the Papacy, however great the danger to which the faithful expose themselves by not conforming to the example around them, the Holy Spirit uses such a barrier as this to separate them from sinful compliances. For those—whether French, English, or Italian—who love and practice the true religion, even their native country becomes a foreign land when they live under that tyranny.

And yet, there is a distinction between us and God’s ancient people. At that time, the worship of God was confined to one place. But now, He has His temple wherever two or three are met together in Christ’s name, if they separate themselves from all idolatrous profession and maintain purity of divine worship.

The Psalmist, through the language he uses, by no means intends to suppress every attempt on their part to celebrate God’s praises. Rather, he exhorts them in their affliction to wait with patience until the liberty of publicly worshipping God was restored, saying, in effect—we have been bereft of our Temple and sacrifices; we wander as exiles in a polluted land, and what remains for us, in remembrance of our outcast state, but to sigh and groan for the promised deliverance?

If I shall forget thee, O Jerusalem! This confirms what was said in the previous verse and leaves us in no difficulty to understand what the Psalmist meant by it. For here God’s people declare, and with the solemnity of an oath, that the remembrance of the holy city would be ever engraved upon their hearts and never, under any circumstances, effaced.

Having spoken of song and of the instruments of music, the Psalmist’s appeal is made in terms which correspond — that his hand would forget its cunning, and his tongue cleave to his palate, or the roof of his mouth. The meaning is, that the Lord’s people, while they mourn under personal trials, should be still more deeply affected by public calamities which befall the Church, it being reasonable that the zeal of God’s house should have the highest place in our hearts and rise above all mere private considerations.

The second part of the sixth verse some interpret — If this is not my chief joy to see Jerusalem once more in a flourishing condition. Others — Joy will never enter my heart again until I am gladdened by the Church’s restoration. Both meanings are in my opinion comprehended in the words of the Psalmist.

The one cannot be separated from the other; for if we set Jerusalem above our chief joy, the height of this joy must arise from the consideration of its prosperity, and, if this is the case, the grief we feel under its calamities will be such as effectually to shut out all worldly joys.