Psalm 137; Matthew 5:38-39
Ten mountain climbers in Pakistan are shot dead by a new faction of the Taliban. The climbers were rounded up by this militant group, blindfolded, forced to kneel and then were all shot in the head. The message the Taliban gunmen was the foreign climbers were killed in revenge for drone attacks on Pakistan. Should there be revenge for their revenge?
Edward Snowden, a contract worker for the National Security Agency is charged with disclosing secret U.S. surveillance programs. Is he a hero for freedom of information and government spying, or a goat who betrayed his government? Should there be revenge against not only him, but China, and Russia for shielding him? In one article this week it said the US government would take “a restrained approach to any retribution” against China and Russia.
Two brothers let off bombs at the Boston Marathon. Marc Fucarile was one of the victims injured in the bombings. His right leg had to be amputated, and his left leg was badly damaged. It’s not clear if he’ll have use of it. The full consequences of his injuries may not be known for years. What should be done to the bombers? What kind of revenge?
And all the shootings: Gabby Giffords in Arizona; the Newtown School in Connecticut; the theatre shooting in Colorado; the Santa Monica shooting in California, and on and on. What kind of revenge should be had on such heartless killers?
And another article this week about two teenaged girls, who took a third girl out to a remote location and stabbed her to death. The three girls were close friends since they were eight years old. The two girls counted down, “3-2-1” then took out their knives and brutally stabbed their friend to death and left her body under a pile of branches. No one knows why, and her parents are understandably in shock and horror. What form should their revenge take?
Heinrich Hein once wrote:
My nature is the most peaceful in the world. All I ask is a simple cottage, a decent bed, good food, some flowers in front of my window, and a few trees in my yard. Then if God wanted to make me wholly happy, he would let me enjoy the spectacle of six or seven of my enemies dangling from those trees. I would forgive them all wrongs they have done me--forgive them from the bottom of my heart, for we must forgive our enemies. But not until they are hanged!
Or as Calvin, in the “Calvin and Hobbes” cartoon speaks for most of us:
That’s what we want. Incineration. Swift and painful justice. Or a posse, a tall tree with sturdy branches and a new rope.
Our two major reactions to these kinds of events are horror and revenge. It’s the second of these reactions--revenge--that I’d have us think about this morning.
Psalm 137 is a perfect piece of poetry reflecting the deep sadness and the unremorseful desire for revenge. The situation behind the Psalm is this: The Israelites had been enslaved by the Babylonian armies. Jerusalem and the Temple were destroyed--literally leveled. Only the strong, able-bodied adults were allowed to live, being marched off to serve as slaves in Babylon. Children, babies, old people were massacred.
As a form of totally insensitive mockery, that only an arrogant victor could muster, the Babylonian captors asked the slaves to sing songs from their homeland. But how could the Israelites sing to captors who killed their children and their grandparents? All they could think of was revenge--to see the Babylonian’s babies smashed against the walls and rocks, as was done to their own.
In one science fiction movie, a mad scientist figured out how to make a serum that would bring inanimate objects to life. He tried his serum out on a statue in the town park of a great general. Sure enough, the statue gave a quiver and the general, creaking a bit at the joints, climbed down from the pedestal. The scientist was overjoyed. “I have given you life,” he exulted. “Now tell me, what is the first thing you are going to do?”
“That’s easy,” rasped the General. “I’m going to find a gun and shoot as many pigeons as I can.”
When we get dumped on by someone, the natural reaction is to figure out a way to dump back.
That’s why I like the Psalms. As Bernhard Anderson wrote in his commentary on the Psalms, “The laments of the Psalter are raised from the depths of human misery from which the emotions of bitterness and hatred often well up” (page 89).
The psalmists--indeed all of scripture--takes evil seriously, as well as the emotions evil evokes. Enemies are taken to be more than human. Such enemies are seen as representatives of all evil forces that threaten life and God’s good order. Such enemies are so powerful, and we become the victims of the structures of their power, that we, like the psalmist, end up feeling helpless a lot of the time. We rage with vengeance because something we love, or about our love, has been hurt or destroyed.
One of the reasons we feel helpless is because of the randomness of such brutal power. Maybe you’ve seen the bumper sticker, “Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty.” We are surprised, in a very pleasant way when we are the recipient of some unexpected kindness.
And we are horrified when we are the recipient of some unexpected abuse or ugliness. It creates massive insecurity. We never look at the world quite the same. We will always be looking over our shoulder, wondering.
That’s the power of the enemy and of evil acts done by demented people: its randomness. All it takes is one such person to walk into a political gathering, a movie theatre, an elementary school, and all our sense of security goes out the window. Our political leaders try to reassure us, but their words sound hollow and are only received with skepticism. We are told that we are safe. But are we?
The sobering truth is, no one can be proactive against such random evil. We can only react after it has had its day. The majority reaction is revenge. “We got Osama bin Laden!” We got revenge. But then mountain climbers in Pakistan are shot in the head. Car bombings have increased in Iraq--1000 people were killed just last month alone. Where does it end?
A man noticed the following classified ad in the newspaper: “For sale. Mercedes Benz 450 SL. $50.” Although he was certain it must have been a typo or misprint, the man decided to answer the ad. The seller was a middle-aged woman. She showed the car to the man. It was a beauty: very low mileage, mint condition.
The man said, “It’s a beautiful car, and I would like to buy it, but the price--$50? What’s the catch?”
The woman answered, “There’s no catch. You see, my husband is in the process of leaving me for another, younger woman. He doesn’t know I know. They are on a trip together now. Three days ago, I received an email from him saying, ‘Sell the car and send the money.’ So I am.”
Revenge can be so sweet.
We even have scripture to back up our revenge. It’s called the “law of retaliation.” It’s in both Leviticus and Deuteronomy: “Don’t feel sorry for the person: It’s life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot.” (Deuteronomy 19:21)
But in Psalm 137, the psalmist seems unwilling to exact the revenge themselves, but hopes someone else will do it.
And you, Babylonians--ravagers!
A reward to whoever gets back at you
for all you’ve done to us;
Yes, a reward to the one who grabs your babies
and smashes their heads on the rocks!
By inference, it seems she wants someone else (God?) to carry out the vengeance for her. She concedes her wish for retaliation to the all-powerful hand of God. She unashamedly expresses her vengeance honestly before God, and then entrusts her precious hatred to God, hoping that God will take it seriously.
But we wonder. Can God be trusted with our precious hatreds and desires for revenge? Deep down, we have an understanding of what God will do with our desire for retaliation. God will take our wishes seriously enough to recast them, change them. Maybe even change us. The law of retaliation makes us smile with a smile of contented justice. Makes us smack our lips at the taste of revenge. But we know God. And we know God speaks other words. God speaks of justice. Justice is vengeance that has learned wisdom from God.
Yes, God speaks other words. Words like Leviticus 19:18, “Don’t seek revenge or carry a grudge against any of your people. Love your neighbor as yourself. I am God.”
And Paul to the Romans, “Don’t insist on getting even; that’s not for you to do. ‘I’ll do the judging,’ says God. ‘I’ll take charge of it.’” (Romans 12:19)
And, of course, Jesus, as was read earlier, “Here’s another old saying that deserves a second look: ‘Eye for eye, tooth for tooth.’ Is that going to get us anywhere? Here’s what I propose: ‘Don’t hit back at all.’ If someone strikes you, stand there and take it.” (Matthew 5:38-39)
This difficult teaching of Jesus is meant precisely for the moments in which the urge to avenge is strongest. We are getting slapped around. We are being disrespected. Humiliated. Taken advantage of. Respect in our world is communicated through power. Weakness or passivity--just standing there and taking it--invites others to take cruel advantage. It is precisely in those moments of cruelty that Jesus is asking us to stand fast, but not hit back. And he doesn’t ask us to do anything that he himself didn’t end up doing in his trial, whipping and Crucifixion.
The psalmist behind Psalm 137 lets us know that we are certainly allowed to plead for divine vengeance. But we aren’t supposed to be the answers to our own prayers. We are allowed, as this Psalm is an example, the “speech of assault.” We are allowed to get mad. To yell it. Scream our desire for revenge. Even sing it. Certainly vent it. Bring it to speech. It’s OK. Because speech isn’t fatal. Getting even is what turns brutal and lethal.
With God, all subjects and all emotions, even the darkest ones, are legitimate material for conversation. Putting up a pretty front, in the face of our anger and feelings of retribution, may not yield much with God. Let God know exactly what’s going on in your head and heart.
We all operate out of the sense, when wrong or hurt has been done, that the moral order is out of balance, so we think we need to make it right again. Until the offender has gotten his/her just desserts, the moral universe will be askew. So we justify to ourselves that vengeance is not the end in itself. Something larger is going on: the maintenance of the moral coherence in creation is at stake! And we think we get to be the ones who restore that coherence.
But one of the themes of the Bible is that vengeance doesn’t get to be human business. We don’t see the big picture. Only God does. And it is into God’s hands that we are to place our words and feelings of revenge, and let God handle it from there. Can we trust God with something as precious as our need to strike back at those who hurt us, humiliate us, offend us?
That’s where the Psalmist takes her anger--to God in prayer through the poetry of this Psalm. Prayer is the most powerful place available, given us by God, for the transformation of our vengeance. Because the transformation of our vengeance has to start with our heart--not the aggressors actions. The only way we are allowed by God to enact revenge is through prayer--talking it through with God. And then, out of our prayerful conversations with God, reaching out not to strike back, but to serve in acts of hospitality and concern for the abusive one.
That’s the tough part. Can you do that?
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