I never met my grandfather. He died from a massive heart attack when my mom was pregnant with my oldest sister. My mom tells us stories about him and that she was a daddy’s girl. She didn’t meet him until she was three years old. He built bridges in Europe during World War II and fought at Normandy. His wife was a few months pregnant when he left. He could have postponed his deployment for a time to see his child be born, but draft dodgers were worse than a dog. Wanting life with his young wife and child to get back to as normal as possible, he never spoke of the war when he returned three and a half years later. But no one was immune from the toll paid by the violence and loss of life.
I have never experienced war, but I try to imagine how living through it would impact my perspective. I recall my grandmother’s bitterness toward those who killed her loved ones. Like so many others she knew, even though her husband came home and they were blessed with another daughter, some of her family died in the war. Her 18 year old beloved brother was killed on the front lines of that same war. She never got over it. She wished ill on whole nations and earnestly asked God to give them what was coming to them. I remember feeling a little surprised at her harsh words so many years later. She was kind and hardworking and loved to help others. Even as a child I tried to put her feelings in the context of her great loss. She was not alone in her sentiments.
But her mother, my great grandmother, did not seem as outspoken about her cries for vengeance, even though she suffered perhaps greater losses. Her husband was in a battle in World War I and their unit was bombed. When he awoke, he was the only one alive. He was what they called back then, “shell-shocked.” He eventually mostly recovered but was forever changed. Because of this and losing her son in war, my great grandmother had more of a resigned way about her. War was a part of life.
Remember, O LORD
If you recall from last week, the people of Judah did not believe Jerusalem would ever fall. They were treating God’s temple like a rabbit’s foot. They thought they could do as they pleased, disobeying God and playing the harlot with their unfaithfulness, and would not be held accountable. God sent them warning after warning through his prophets, but they would not listen. God is longsuffering, but eventually His righteous wrath filled to the brim and spilled over in judgment in the form of captivity.
As I continue reflecting on Psalm 137, verses 7-9 come with a warning. What are your initial thoughts as God’s people cry for vengeance? Is this okay?
7 Remember, O Lord, against the Edomites the day of Jerusalem, how they said, “Lay it bare, lay it bare, down to its foundations!” 8 O daughter of Babylon, doomed to be destroyed, blessed shall he be who repays you with what you have done to us! 9 Blessed shall he be who takes your little ones and dashes them against the rock!
God, please act!
Yikes! These people want vengeance and they are calling on the Sovereign Ruler of the Universe to attend to action.1 They are saying, “Remember and regard Your promises to us, LORD! We are waiting for justice!”
The Edomites represent all who hate God’s people and were allied with Babylonia in the fall of Jerusalem. Even though God used the captivity of His people to get them to remember Him, He still held their captors accountable for their actions. There would come a day when the LORD would repay those who mercilessly destroyed Jerusalem. There are many places in scripture where this is foretold.
The people of the day functioned under the principle of the Talion, which said the punishment should fit the crime.1 This was because man was made in the image of God. It was not supposed to be carried out as personal retribution. Being the sinner that he is, mankind escalated this idea as he justified carrying out excessive violence when conquering a people during time of war. This historically included heinous acts against women and children.1
So is vengeance okay? I’m confused.
The writer wants us to feel the fire of his desperation as he abruptly ends this Psalm. But when he says the nation that conquers Babylon and does to them what they did to Judah will be blessed, it just leads me to more questions.
How as Christians can we reconcile this? Is it okay to rejoice when our enemies suffer? Are we to believe vengeance is acceptable because they are getting what they deserve? What happened to loving your enemies and praying for those who persecute you?
The need for a Savior.
God chose a nation to be His people so they could serve as a picture to the other nations of what it looked like to live with God as their King. The purpose was to lead all nations to love and worship the one true God. They were never permitted to indulge in hatred and vengeance. God alone is able to exact vengeance as He tempers justice with mercy.2 They were to wait on God, but His people failed over and over. And so do we.
From the very first sin in Genesis, the Old Testament always pointed to the need for a Savior. When Christ came, His death and resurrection changed everything.3 Christians can love their enemies and bless those who curse them by praying for their salvation and reconciliation with God. This doesn’t mean the sin of our enemies is okay or that we are supposed to act like it doesn’t hurt. It means we can show love because Christ did. And we show love by praying our enemy’s blind eyes are open to their need for a Savior, remembering we would be like them if it were not for God’s kindness shown to us. As we are doing this, we trust that because He conquered death, He is able to right all of the wrongs. Even though it feels like a long time, there is coming a day when Christ will return. He asks us to be diligently watchful as we continue to trust and obey, remembering all the while, His kindness is greater than what He asks us to endure.4
God is not mocked.
Do we confuse God’s longsuffering character with inaction? I am both surprised and liberated as I grow in my understanding of who God is and who He is not. There is an appearance of God being mocked as He gives endless opportunities. But be not deceived. The Sovereign Ruler of the Universe who perfectly balances justice and mercy is never really mocked.5 At some point He has already determined, there will be an accounting. His righteous wrath will spill over in judgment. Those that denied Jesus Christ as Lord will have no more chances. They will forever be condemned to death and separation. May we pray for those around us to see the Truth before it’s too late. That’s how we best show love to our enemies.
If you would be willing to comment, I would love to hear your thoughts on this one.
Below is a picture of my grandfather. PFC Orville R. Sparks, commended for service at Normandy, WW II.
Julie, I absolutely love your comments about my beloved daddy. I didn’t see him until I was almost three and he died when I was 20. 17 years is not long enough to have your daddy. I grieved terribly for him. I felt cheated and felt like I couldn’t bear it. I finally prrayed to God and begged him to take the terrible grieving from me. I was pregnant and I was so upset all the time, I was afraid I was going to have a miscarriage. I was so happy to be pregnant and already loved my baby and my daddy was so happy to be a grandfather. I wanted to have this baby. My doctor advised me to not go to Kentucky to the funeral. I was three months pregnant which is the most critical time. I said there is no way I am not going to my daddy’s funeral. He said okay, but take these pills as I have prescribed. I took the pills the morning of the funeral. As I was walking past my daddy’s casket to view him, I fainted. My husband caught me and he and his dad carried me to the car and laid me in the back seat. I woke up and said I want to go to the cemetery and he said Honey you can’t. It will be too dangerous for you and the baby. So I cried, went back to sleep and woke up on the bed back at the motel. Everything was over. I had missed the burying of my daddy. I wept bitterly as I realized my doctor had given me tranquilizers. I was so angry at him until I also realized he had actually saved my baby’s life in his great wisdom. So we went home and I went back to work. I grieved terribly and I thought I couldn’t go on without my beloved daddy. I finally cried out to God. I had become a Christian as a teenager. I begged Him to relieve me of this terrible grieving. Of course God in his great love and mercy answered my prayer. I delivered a healthy baby girl at 7-1/2 months. My husband and I were so happy and again I was so thankful to God for giving me such a wonderful doctor. I love your story and the picture Heather restored so beautifully. You are a wonderful writer honey. I understand how my mother felt. She married my daddy in 1941 and he died in 1963. That is not enough time to have the love of your life. They had a great love for each other. It was such a lifeshattering loss for her.
Julie, I absolutely love your comments about my beloved daddy. I didn’t see him until I was almost three and he died when I was 20. 17 years is not long enough to have your daddy. I grieved terribly for him. I felt cheated and felt like I couldn’t bear it. I finally prrayed to God and begged him to take the terrible grieving from me. I was pregnant and I was so upset all the time, I was afraid I was going to have a miscarriage. I was so happy to be pregnant and already loved my baby and my daddy was so happy to be a grandfather. I wanted to have this baby. My doctor advised me to not go to Kentucky to the funeral. I was three months pregnant which is the most critical time. I said there is no way I am not going to my daddy’s funeral. He said okay, but take these pills as I have prescribed. I took the pills the morning of the funeral. As I was walking past my daddy’s casket to view him, I fainted. My husband caught me and he and his dad carried me to the car and laid me in the back seat. I woke up and said I want to go to the cemetery and he said Honey you can’t. It will be too dangerous for you and the baby. So I cried, went back to sleep and woke up on the bed back at the motel. Everything was over. I had missed the burying of my daddy. I wept bitterly as I realized my doctor had given me tranquilizers. I was so angry at him until I also realized he had actually saved my baby’s life in his great wisdom. So we went home and I went back to work. I grieved terribly and I thought I couldn’t go on without my beloved daddy. I finally cried out to God. I had become a Christian as a teenager. I begged Him to relieve me of this terrible grieving. Of course God in his great love and mercy answered my prayer. I delivered a healthy baby girl at 7-1/2 months. My husband and I were so happy and again I was so thankful to God for giving me such a wonderful doctor. I love your story and the picture Heather restored so beautifully. You are a wonderful writer honey. I understand how my mother felt. She married my daddy in 1941 and he died in 1963. That is not enough time to have the love of your life. They had a great love for each other. It was such a lifeshattering loss for her.
Thank you for sharing mom. I think you should be a guest writer for my blog!