Exploring exile: Should Christians see America as Babylon or Egypt?

Exploring exile: Should Christians see America as Babylon or Egypt?

Commentary by Walter Hesford | FāVS News

On the day after my recent knee replacement surgery, my surgeon, a very kind, very gifted fellow, visited me in the hospital wearing a sweat-shirt with the word “Exile” emblazoned on it.  When I asked him what this signified, he said that many Christians feel that they are in exile in America, given the ungodly nature of our government and of both major political parties.

In the Bible, the most often cited experience of exile is that during the 6th century B.C. Babylonian captivity, when Israelites were taken away from their physical and spiritual homeland, and their temple was destroyed on Mt. Zion. They sang of their plight in what is now Psalm 137, probably the most sung Psalm in the world.

Here is how it opens: “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea we wept, when we remembered Zion” (v. 1; KJV).  The exiles hang their harps in the willow trees by the river, unwilling to sing, but their captors mockingly required them to sing one of their songs of Zion (v.2-3).  The exiles ask, “How shall we sing the LORD’s song in a strange land?” (v. 4).

This Psalm of exile is a lament, but it also has been interpreted as a call for liberation from oppression. It is the basis of “Va, pensiero” (“Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves”) in Verdi’s 1841 opera “Nabucco,” set during the Babylonian captivity.  Some heard parallels between this captivity and political conditions in Italy. In Italy and throughout the world, this version of Psalm 137 remains popular.

Rastafarian exile beliefs

World-wide, though, the most popular rendition of Psalm 137 is doubtless “The Rivers of Babylon,” the 1970 reggae version sung by the Melodians. Included in the sound-track of the 1972 film “The Harder They Come,” this version promotes the Rastafarian belief that Black Africans living in the Americas are in exile where it is difficult to sing songs praising King Alpha — Hailee Selassie.

In spite of the specific Rastafarian significance of “The Rivers of Babylon,” it has struck a chord among other captive peoples. When I was on the Yangtze between Nanjing and Wuhan shortly after the Tiananmen Square massacre, a young Chinese fellow asked me, “Do you know ‘Babylon’”? When I looked puzzled, he began singing the reggae version of Psalm 137. Then he said, “Now we Chinese are captive in our own country.” 

Can white American Christians claim that they, too, are captive in their own country? Singing versions Psalm 137 has been common among this group since colonial days. Yet, more common still was the view that they were creating in America a new Zion, or colonizing a new Promised Land (at the expense of its indigenous peoples). These New World white Christians thought they had escaped an Old World Egypt of bondage.

From the Black slave perspective, however, the New World itself was Egypt, and white Christian slaveholders were akin to the Egyptians who, according to the Exodus, held the Hebrews of yore in bondage. Thus we have such magnificent, angry spirituals like “Go, Down, Moses,” calling for liberation of Black slaves from white Christian bondage.

Hope in these ‘divided times’

Thus we have the magnificent, very angry 1829 “Appeal” by David Walker, which called for Blacks to rise up against their so-called Christian white slave-holders, whom he depicted as present-day Egyptians.  

But can contemporary white Christians claim that they, too, are oppressed, claim that they are exiles in their own land?  Some who do so on the Christian right see Donald Trump as their Cyrus, the 6th century B.C. Persian king who freed the Israelites from Babylonian captivity by conquering Babylon and thus restoring them to Zion (see Isaiah 45).

My skillful surgeon assured me that he has no militarist agenda, but simply wants himself and his family to be free from government control. My fear is that by withdrawing from the public sphere, people with his beliefs will undermine public education, public libraries and public health clinics.

Perhaps my fears are unwarranted. Perhaps those who think they are at home in America and those who do not can find some common ground. I’m sure that if my surgeon and I lived near each other, we’d be good neighbors. 

Perhaps that’s the most we can hope for in these divided times.

The views expressed in this opinion column are those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the views of FāVS News. FāVS News values diverse perspectives and thoughtful analysis on matters of faith and spirituality.