Set during Israel’s exile in Babylon, this Psalm gives voice to a nation crushed beneath sorrow, crying out to God for justice and mercy. Along the banks of Babylon’s rivers, the Israelites sat and wept. Their harps—once instruments of joy and gladness—now hang unused in the trees, alongside their hope in the promises of God. Yahweh is mocked; their homeland lies in ruin; and their only glimmer of hope rests in the promised seed, the One who would bring both justice and mercy. 

Verse 9 draws a grim and jarring image: “Blessed shall he be who takes your little ones and dashes them against the rock.” To our ears, it sounds cruel. But for Israel, it is the echo of their own suffering—a cry for God to do to Babylon what Babylon had done to them. This is not personal vengeance, but a longing for divine justice. But Who is this “blessed man” that would bring about this justice? We see him most clearly in Jesus—the righteous Judge, the promised King. His judgment will be final and complete. The image of infants dashed on the rock is not a call to violence, but a sobering symbol of God’s holy wrath against his and our ultimate enemies. The Rock is Christ himself, and all wickedness will ultimately be broken by him and upon him.

Yet even in judgment, hope rises. For this Judge is also the Lamb—risen, reigning, and making all things new. Injustice will not last. One day peace and mercy will reign for the people of God.

So if you find yourself on the same riverbank, worn down by sorrow and injustice, with your harp—and your hope—hung in the trees, look to the risen promised seed. He lived, he died, he rose again, and he is coming back to make all things new. In him, there is justice. In him, there is mercy. And in him, there is hope that will never be silenced.

But now, we join Israel in their cry: “come, Lord Jesus, come”.