Remember Zion

A Reflection on the Psalm for March 14th, 2021:
Fourth Sunday of Lent

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​Psalm 137

R. Let my tongue be silenced if I ever forget you!

By the rivers of Babylon — there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion. On the willows there we hung up our harps. 

R. Let my tongue be silenced if I ever forget you!

For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” 

R. Let my tongue be silenced if I ever forget you!

How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land? If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither! 

R. Let my tongue be silenced if I ever forget you!

Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth, if I do not remember you, if I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy. 

R. Let my tongue be silenced if I ever forget you!
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Pause. Pray.

And then read more...

“By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down
Ye-eah we wept, when we remembered Zion.”


I was a kid when Boney M released this hugely popular single, which to me was little more than a great dance tune. Sure, I had a notion that it was based on a Bible story, but I was more than vague on the details. Here’s the backstory on Psalm 137:


In the 6th century B.C., the military forces of Babylonia were brought to bear on Jerusalem. The city was destroyed. Society’s poorest remained in the ruined city while 10,000 of its most prominent citizens were relocated to the city of Babylon, where they were held captive for the next five decades.


According to scholars, some of the Jews were paralyzed with despair at being separated from Zion (which is both their physical homeland and a symbol of their identity as the people of God). We hear the grief of the exiles in Psalm 137. They sit by the riverside, a traditional place of Jewish worship. Their captors mock them with requests for happy songs from their native land, but the Jews are not joyful. They cannot sing. Instead, they hang their lyres in the trees, not having the heart to play them, so overwhelmed are they by being separated from God.


Apparently, others of the exiles responded differently. Although they too mourned their separation from God, they accepted it as His just punishment for their failure to obey the Law of Moses. They remembered what they had, and all that they had lost. They remembered Zion, repented and renewed their commitment to the Lord with greater zeal.


Exile from the homeland of our faith — we have some insight into this, now that we have been living with a global pandemic for nearly a year. We grieve the loss of community gatherings, especially for praise and worship. We miss our beautiful church buildings, especially on holy days, such as Ash Wednesday, as we celebrate Mass virtually because in-person attendance is limited for safety reasons. We long to hold the Body of Christ as we pray an Act of Spiritual Communion, asking Jesus to be born in our hearts.


This longing is understandable but, as so much suffering does, it has its hidden treasure. It reminds us of what we had — the large gatherings, the hugs, the freedom of access — and it deepens our appreciation for those things. As the exiles said, “[M]ay my right hand forget its skill [and] may my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember.” We must remember Zion. Pandemic restrictions aside, we remain God’s people. Let us never allow forgetfulness, because it stills our tongue against singing His praise and it renders our hands useless to His work.


Lord, we remember You. Remembrance leads to renewed worship and an even deeper communion with You. May we use this time to cultivate a deeper appreciation of what it means to be Your people.




Donna Davis

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