Revised Common Lectionary (Semicontinuous)
Psalm 137
Psalm 137 is a lament written either during or shortly after the exile. It provides a vivid image of what life in exile must have been like.
1 By the rivers of Babylon,
we sat and wept
when we thought of Zion, our home, so far away.
2 On the branches of the willow trees,
we hung our harps and hid our hearts from the enemy.
3 And the men that surrounded us
made demands that we clap our hands and sing—
Songs of joy from days gone by,
songs from Zion, our home.
Such cruel men taunted us—haunted our memories.
4 How could we sing a song about the Eternal
in a land so foreign, while still tormented, brokenhearted, homesick?
Please don’t make us sing this song.
5-6 O Jerusalem, even still, don’t escape my memory.
I treasure you and your songs, even as I hide my harp from the enemy.
And if I can’t remember,
may I never sing a song again—
may my hands never play well again—
For what use would it be if I don’t remember Jerusalem
as my source of joy?
7 Remember, Eternal One, how the Edomites, our brothers, the descendants of Esau,
stood by and watched as Jerusalem fell.
Gloating, they said, “Destroy it;
tear it down to the ground,” when Jerusalem was being demolished.
8 O daughter of Babylon, you are destined for destruction!
Happy are those who pay you back for how you treated us
so you will no longer walk so proud.
9 Happy are those who dash your children against the rocks
so you will know how it feels.
A pun encourages daughter Zion that she will no longer be exiled or “uncovered,” but the same idiom condemns daughter Edom, for she will be “uncovered.”
5 Remember, Eternal One; don’t forget what happened.
Just look at how we are demeaned, disgraced.
2 All that You gave to us has been handed over to strangers.
Even our houses foreigners have taken for their own.
3 Abandoned too early and on our own, we are like fatherless children;
and our mothers, now widows, have nothing either.
4 The most basic necessities, food and water,
shelter and warmth, we must pay dearly for.
5 Those pursuing us breathe down the backs of our heavily-yoked necks,
driving us relentlessly.
Like overworked oxen, we are exhausted and without rest.
6 So what else could we do? We succumbed to agreements with Egypt and Assyria
just so we could get enough to eat and survive.
7 Our fathers sinned and got us into this.
Now they’ve passed on, and we suffer for it and bear their deeds.
8 Those less capable and less deserving slaves rule;
they are actually in charge of us—
Your chosen ones—and nobody sets it right.
Nobody comes to rescue us from their cruel hand.
9 At risk of life and limb, we seek our daily food
despite threats of sword and danger in the wild places.
10 We are feverish with hunger.
Famine’s scorching heat burns our flesh like an oven.
11 In the place where God should be—
Zion and the surrounding towns of Judah—
Women, young and old alike,
are brutally raped and violated.
12 Our leaders are made an example, hung by their hands,
and our elders are treated with contempt.
13 Our best youths are forced to grind grain relentlessly;
and boys stagger, bent under burdens of wood too heavy.
14 Gone from the gates are debate, trade, and the wisdom of sages.
The streets, too, are silent—the young neglect their music.
15 The joy from our hearts is gone, utterly gone.
Our once-dancing feet now plod along mournfully.
16 The wreath that crowned our head has slipped and fallen; now it’s crushed.
O how we’ve sinned! Pity us for the punishment we brought on ourselves.
17 We’re sick at heart about it all,
blind with the sorrow and grief we caused.
18 God’s heaven on earth, our Mount Zion, is desolate
except for the jackals who haunt only ruins.
19 But You, Eternal One, despite all this,
You will abide and rule forever, from generation to generation.
20 Why, then, have You completely forgotten about us?
Why have You turned Your back on us through so many dark days?
21 We are so sorry and have suffered for it.
Eternal One, take us back again,
That we may be restored to You and You to us,
just as it used to be.
22 Or are You so very angry that You’ve rejected us,
that You’ve given up on us completely?
12 The next morning, when they departed Bethany and were traveling back to the city, Jesus was hungry. 13 Off in the distance, He saw a fig tree fully leafed out, so He headed toward it to see if it might have any ripe fruit. But when He reached it, He found only leaves because the fig season had not yet come.
14 As the disciples listened, Jesus pronounced a curse on the tree.
Jesus: No one will ever eat fruit from your branches again.
20 The next morning on the way back to Jerusalem, they passed a tree that had withered down to its very roots.
Peter (remembering): 21 That’s the fig tree, Teacher, the one You cursed just yesterday morning. It’s withered away to nothing!
Jesus: 22 Trust in God. 23 If you do, honestly, you can say to this mountain, “Mountain, uproot yourself and throw yourself into the sea.” If you don’t doubt, but trust that what you say will take place, then it will happen. 24 So listen to what I’m saying: Whatever you pray for or ask from God, believe that you’ll receive it and you will.
The Voice Bible Copyright © 2012 Thomas Nelson, Inc. The Voice™ translation © 2012 Ecclesia Bible Society All rights reserved.