LIVING IN THE LAND OF REGRET

“By the rivers of Babylon—there we sat down and wept when we remembered Zion.” (Psalm 137:1 HCSB)

God has given us a time machine. By it, we can travel back to our childhood with its simple pleasures. We can journey to our teen and young adult years which were filled with hopes and dreams. Entering this time machine, we can go to places where we have laughed and loved—reliving spectacular scenes we have observed and special sensations we have experienced—our bride coming down the aisle, our baby coming into the world, a ball game that brought a thrill, a bite of steak that still makes us salivate--all that, and more. The time machine we have is called memory. Entering it, we can recall seasons of life which brought great joy.

But, that can also bring the tears. What if we recall the wedding, but also the betrayal and broken vows which brought a broken home? Perhaps a dark shadow passes over the memory of life and laughs shared in the season of summer with our spouse, when we also remember the autumn of cancer, ending in the winter of the casket and cold wind that swept our loved one from our arms. We may reflect on the nice house, and well-groomed yard, but also recall the lost job, struggle for financial survival, the foreclosure and bankruptcy with its stigma. There are many other sad stories we could review. Not all memories are happy ones.

That is where the Jews found themselves—living in the Land of Regret. It was otherwise known as Babylon. The Psalmist sings this dirge—a song appropriate for a funeral. It was the music of mourning, a tune written in tears. I have heard it before—sitting on the platform during a memorial service for a church member, a special song selected by the family is shared. I have watched as the moment the song begins to play, loved ones grabbing each other, faces twisted with pain, and I have listened to the painful weeping wrung out of broken hearts. It is possible, yet very difficult to look ahead with rejoicing in the prospect of heaven, when you look back with remorse in the pain that feels like hell.

What if?

That is a question that dogs us. What if we had done this, or that—might things have been different? What if this had not happened; what might have been?

You are living in the Land of Regret. The key term hanging like a funeral shroud over this psalm is “remember,” with those dark threads woven throughout the fabric of the text. It is found in every stanza of this song.

A MEMORY THAT BROUGHT LAMENTING.

“By the rivers of Babylon—there we sat down and wept when we remembered Zion. There we hung up our lyres on the poplar trees, for our captors there asked us for songs, and our tormentors, for rejoicing: ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion.’

How can we sing the Lord's song on foreign soil?” (Ps.137:1-4)

Sorrow can shut up speech and sobs can swallow up songs. Have you ever been at a place in your life where you tried to talk, but your throat was choked with the pain of loss? I have—and it hurts. It feels like strangulation.

That is what happened to the Jews. Memories led to mockery. The Babylonians taunted them: “Lets hear one of those good old songs of Zion.” But, the people of God were in no mood for melodies of mirth, for they were in mourning. So they hung up their harps in the Land of Regret.

It was a memory that brought lamenting, and also A MEMORY THAT BROUGHT LONGING.

“If I forget you, Jerusalem, may my right hand forget [its skill]. May my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you, if I do not exalt Jerusalem as my greatest joy!” (Ps.137:5-6)

It is the heights of joy that we have scaled which brings such brokenness when we plunge into the valley of sorrow. When you are living in this land called Regret, you long for a better time—a time of walking in sunlight before you entered this Shadowland.

My wife and I attended a concert by Alison Krauss and Union Station as one of the things we did on our wedding anniversary. They are such talented musicians, and her voice is as smooth as silk. But, they joked about the darkness that dominates the lyrics of their music. Alison Krauss told the audience that they sing about all kinds of sorrowful stuff—songs filled with calamity! We laughed because of the truth of that. This is the nature of a lot—though certainly not all—bluegrass and country music.

One example we heard them express in concert was written by Hugh Prestwood, entitled “Ghost in This House.” Here are the lyrics:

“I don't pick up the mail,
I don't pick up the phone,
I don't answer the door,
I just soon be alone
I don't keep this place up,
I just keep the lights down,
I don't live in these rooms,
I just rattled around

I'm just a ghost in this house,
I'm shadow upon these walls,
As quietly as a mouse,
I haunt these halls,
I'm just a whisper of smoke,
I'm all that's left of two hearts on fire,
That once burned out of control,
You took my body and soul,
I'm just a ghost in this house

I don't care if it rains,
I don't care if it's clear,
I don't mind stayin' near,
There's another ghost here,
He sits down in your chair,
And he shines with your light,
And he lays down his head,
On your pillow at night

I'm just a ghost in this house,
I'm just a shadow upon these walls,
I'm living proof of the damage heartbreak does,
I'm just a whisper of smoke,
I'm all that's left of two hearts on fire,
That once burned out of control,
You took my body and soul,
I'm just a ghost in this house

That once burned out of control,
You took my body and soul,
I'm just a ghost in this house”

How haunting and depressing! So, why would we listen to it? Because it is so bloody real. At some point we have all found ourselves living in the land of regret. We do not want to be there. We long for better days.

Furthermore, there was A MEMORY THAT BROUGHT LOATHING.

“Remember, Lord, [what] the Edomites said that day at Jerusalem: ‘Destroy it! Destroy it down to its foundations!’ Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction, happy is the one who pays you back what you have done to us.

Happy is he who takes your little ones and dashes them against the rocks.” (Ps.137:7-9)

Now, there is brutal honesty! We know we shouldn’t think like that and talk like that, but inside us sorrow can give way to bitterness and bitterness can ignite a flame of fury. It might even consume us. Scripture encourages us about how we should think and talk, but it also exposes us for how we do think and talk. It is a mirror—and we do not always like what we see when we look into it.

To their credit, the Jews do not take matters into their own hands, but call upon God to do something. Vengeance belongs to God. He will see to it that people reap what they sow. As Edom had destroyed Jerusalem with delight, so it would be done to them—that is justice.

Are you living in the Land of Regret? Submit to God. He sees the tears. Be still and wait in faith.

It might be that it is a place of refining. God has placed you there for a season—not to make you bitter, but to make you better. It isn’t that you have chosen this place, but an all-wise and, indeed, all-loving God has chosen to put you there. I think of Joseph in Egypt, Moses in the wilderness, Job in the ashes, and David in the caves—all for a season living in the crucible, from which God would one day display the pure gold of their faith for His glory. The supreme standard of one who was sinless, yet had His season of sorrow, is Jesus Christ. Here is what the Scripture says of the time He lived in this world of woe, the land called Regret:

“During His earthly life, He offered prayers and appeals with loud cries and tears to the One who was able to save Him from death, and He was heard because of His reverence. Though He was [God's] Son, He learned obedience through what He suffered. After He was perfected, He became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey Him, and He was declared by God a high priest in the order of Melchizedek.” (Hebrews 5:7-10)

But, it could be that it is a place of repenting. Your choices have brought consequences—sinful actions that took you on the road to a city called Ruin in a country called Regret. Samson lost his powerful service for God when he pillowed his head in Delilah’s lap. David lost his joyful songs when he wrote sheet music with Bathsheba. Solomon lost his heavenly wisdom when he delved into the ways of the world. Peter lost his loyal courage when he warmed his hands by the fire of Christ’s enemies. They each entered the Land of Regret, but it became the Land of Repentance, and God gave back the strength, the song, the wisdom and the witness. He will do that for you. Let the pain drive you to your knees and to the Lord.

There were Jews who were examples of both dimensions, living in Babylon—the Land of Regret. There were those being refined like the three Hebrew youths cast into the fiery furnace. They were not there because of their sinful choices, but by the choice of a Sovereign God. Others made choices to do them bad, but God had chosen to turn the bad to good. This is the Romans 8:28 principle, “We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God: those who are called according to His purpose.”

We could speak of how God prepared and preserved a Daniel, Ezra, Nehemiah and Esther while they lived in that foreign land. Then, many of the Jews in exile were carried away, as God’s discipline, due to their rebellion against Him. They had given themselves to idolatry. The Lord would take them into a pagan land where they would become gorged with it, and sick of it, and would never crave false gods again.

Why are you in the Land of Regret?

Don’t try to run away prematurely. God put the Jews there for seventy years. We may seek to engineer an escape. Other well-meaning people may try to bail us out. Consider this quote from Pat Morley, “"If you artificially shorten the hard times without learning everything God has for you, then you will (probably) have to travel this road again."

You didn’t like living there before. You won’t like it the next time, either.