Jerusalem
For centuries, the Church has commemorated the season of Advent as a time of waiting. As Christians living after Jesus’ first coming, part of Advent means waiting for Jesus’ triumphant return, when he will make all things new and reign forever in his kingdom on earth. Advent also marks the beginning of the church calendar year, offering an opportunity to relive the story of God working redemption on his earth. During Advent, we step into the shoes of ancient Israelites, awaiting the birth of Jesus Chirst. Like them, we remember the long anticipation for the coming of the Messiah, the Prince of Peace, Emmanuel. Many liturgical churches choose to read passages from the Old Testament during this season to commemorate the wait for Jesus’ first arrival.
The whole Old Testament seems to be one long chapter on waiting: waiting for the covenant offspring, the promised land, a righteous king, God’s justice against evildoers, and of course, waiting to return to Jerusalem from Babylonian exile. In the 6th century BCE, Jewish people were exiled from Judaea and taken to Babylon as captives. A number of psalms addressing the longing for return to Jerusalem arose from this period.
Psalm 137 is one such visceral lament. It begins with a heart-rending image:
“By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept
when we remembered Zion.” (Psalm 137:1)
For the people of Israel, Jerusalem held special significance. Jerusalem was home to the Jewish temple, the place where God’s presence dwelt. Access to God came only through this specific place and through the rituals of sacrifice, as performed by priests. Distance from Jerusalem was not only a separation from home, but also a separation from God, deserving of this sincere lament.
For Christians today, we no longer need the temple of Jerusalem to access God. Jesus’ death and resurrection made it so that when God sees a sinful Christian, he no longer sees the sin that would separate us, but he sees Jesus’ sacrifice (Colossians 1:21-22). This means we can be close to him, anywhere and everywhere. Jesus promises this in Matthew, when he says, “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them (Matthew 18:20).”
However, like the Israelitites in exile, we still long for a closeness with God. Even though Jesus cleansed us, we still mess up. We still choose to run away from God, rather than running towards him. During Advent, we can pray for a new-found closeness to Emmanuel, the God who is with us.
Verse 2 and 3 of the psalm continue the image of weeping by the river.
“There on the poplars
we hung our harps,
for there our captors asked us for songs,
our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” (Psalm 137: 2-3)
For Lord of the Rings fans, this immediately summons the scene of Denethor forcing Pippin to sing for him songs from the Shire. Pippin, lamenting his lost friends and his homeland far away, can not bear to sing joyous songs in Denethor’s solemn halls. Tolkien captured the essence of this psalm perfectly. Rather than defame the memory of Jerusalem by singing for their captors, the exiles put away their music until they can return home.
In the 6th century, longing for Jerusalem meant a longing for home, for a place of belonging. Christians today also often feel exiled, like sojourners in a foreign land. Feeling this way should be expected. In the Gospel of John, Jesus reminds his followers that they do not “belong to [this] world” (John 15:19). Our home is elsewhere, in the kingdom that is coming, but is not yet.
Jerusalem was not only a homeland, but also a place of safety. In Babylon, as seen in the book of Daniel, Jews faced all kinds of torment if they refused to reject their faith. Christians today also long for safety amidst torment. Whether physical persecution or belittling mockery, Christians are ridiculed for waiting for a triumphant king, whose rule will end violence and fear.
“If I forget you, Jerusalem,
may my right hand forget its skill.
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.” (Psalm 137: 5-6)
It’s also worthwhile to mention the relevance of Jerusalem for Christians today. As previously noted, Jesus’s death and resurrection mean Christians no longer need Jerusalem to access God. We are told that about Jesus’s return, we know “neither the day nor the hour” (Matthew 25:13), so attempting to manipulate the control of Jerusalem will not hasten Jesus’ return. What does it mean, then, for Christians to remember Jerusalem today? To remember Jerusalem is to pray for the peace of the city, as we pray for peace everywhere until Jesus returns to reign forever.
In this advent season, are we longing for a home? For places or loved ones we miss, or memories of simpler times? Are we longing for a world made right and an end to suffering and pain? In Jesus, we are given the promise of the New Jerusalem. We are promised a safe home in God’s future kingdom where every tear will be wiped away, where we will be told “you are no longer an exile; you belong.”