This article traces intertextual trajectories from Ps 137 to other exilic Tehilim texts. It argues that although Sefer Tehilim (Book of Psalms) established a seemingly static diasporic theology of desperation and revenge in the aftermath of the destruction of the First Temple, not all subsequent exiles and diasporas were necessarily viewed in that same light.
Within the context of the Psalms, this study examines rabbinic perspectives on the emerging field of ‘Mobility Theory.’ Broadly speaking, this theory attempts to provide a framework to understand how and why people, ideas, social practices and goods move across space and time and how they reshape identities and culture. Mobility was one of the “defining forces” in the history of the ancient world, yet this field of study is very new, beginning in earnest just two decades ago with Patrick Manning (2004), who suggested the study of migrations from a historical point of view. In the past, ancient cultures were viewed as static entities, but this has changed in recent times:
“The application of studies of migration and mobility, both voluntary and forced, and their implications for understanding identity formation are fairly recent developments in biblical studies” (Glas and Lieberman 2025:4).
The negative biblical image of migration and exile juxtaposed against its positive portrayal of exodus:
“has become a powerful literary
symbol, and has been used as such almost continuously throughout the past two
thousand years of Western literature” (Reimer 2010:4).
Babylonia
1) Psalm 137
Ps 137—often considered the only clearly exilic psalm—laments
and calls for revenge against the Babylonians who have destroyed the Temple in
586 BCE, and asks:
אֵ֗יךְ
נָשִׁ֥יר אֶת־שִׁיר־יְהֹוָ֑ה עַ֝֗ל אַדְמַ֥ת נֵכָֽר׃
“How can we sing a song of God on alien soil?” (Ps 137:4).
The text refers to exacting revenge against the Babylonians who acted like predators (בַּת־בָּבֶ֗ל הַשְּׁד֫וּדָ֥ה), yet the previous verse refers to Edom, which is often a rabbinic metaphor for Rome and Christianity. Rabbinic interpretation often ascribes authorship of most of the psalms to David, which creates a five-hundred-year-old anachronism if Edom is interpreted as Rome (as the Romans destroyed the Second Temple five centuries later). However, the problem disappears if one interprets this psalm as an example of a biblical poet using a neighbouring nation’s name (Edom) as a symbol of hostility (Edom refused to let the Israelites pass through their borders during the wilderness journey);[1] or if one adopts the rabbinic conceptualisation that David saw—through prophecy—the later destruction of the Second Temple as well (b. Gittin 57b):
מְלַמֵּד שֶׁהֶרְאָהוּ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא לְדָוִד חוּרְבַּן בַּיִת רִאשׁוֹן וְחוּרְבַּן בַּיִת שֵׁנִי. חוּרְבַּן בַּיִת רִאשׁוֹן – שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: ״עַל נַהֲרוֹת בָּבֶל שָׁם יָשַׁבְנוּ גַּם בָּכִינוּ״. בַּיִת שֵׁנִי – דִּכְתִיב: ״זְכוֹר ה׳ לִבְנֵי אֱדוֹם אֵת יוֹם יְרוּשָׁלִָים, הָאוֹמְרִים עָרוּ עָרוּ עַד הַיְסוֹד בָּהּ״
In any case, the main theme of Ps 137 seems to be how to deal with physical and spiritual displacement, made worse by the psychological torment of being compelled to sing songs of Zion's imagined everlasting endurance as portrayed by Ps 48 and 99:
סֹ֣בּוּ צִ֭יּוֹן וְהַקִּיפ֑וּהָ סִ֝פְר֗וּ מִגְדָּלֶֽיהָ׃
שִׁ֤יתוּ לִבְּכֶ֨ם ׀ לְֽחֵילָ֗הֿ פַּסְּג֥וּ אַרְמְנוֹתֶ֑יהָ לְמַ֥עַן
תְּ֝סַפְּר֗וּ לְד֣וֹר אַחֲרֽוֹן׃
כִּ֤י זֶ֨ה אֱלֹקִים אֱ֭לֹקֵינוּ עוֹלָ֣ם וָעֶ֑ד ה֖וּא יְנַהֲגֵ֣נוּ עַל־מֽוּת׃
“Walk around Zion, circle it; count its towers, take note of its ramparts; go through its citadels, that you may recount it to the last generation. For God truly is our God forever, who will lead us evermore” (Ps 48:13-15).
יְ֭הֹוָה בְּצִיּ֣וֹן גָּד֑וֹל וְרָ֥ם ה֝֗וּא עַל־כׇּל־הָעַמִּֽים׃
“God is great in Zion, and exalted above all peoples” (Ps 99:2).
Now, after previously believing in Zion’s invulnerability, Ps 137 asks:
אֵ֗יךְ
נָשִׁ֥יר אֶת־שִׁיר־יְהֹוָ֑ה עַ֝֗ל אַדְמַ֥ת נֵכָֽר׃
“How can we sing a song of God on alien soil?” (Ps 137:4).
The devastation is so acute that it calls for unimaginable revenge:
בַּת־בָּבֶ֗ל הַשְּׁד֫וּדָ֥ה אַשְׁרֵ֥י
שֶׁיְשַׁלֶּם־לָ֑ךְ אֶת־גְּ֝מוּלֵ֗ךְ שֶׁגָּמַ֥לְתְּ לָֽנוּ׃
אַשְׁרֵ֤י ׀ שֶׁיֹּאחֵ֓ז וְנִפֵּ֬ץ אֶֽת־עֹלָלַ֗יִךְ אֶל־הַסָּֽלַע׃
“Daughter of Babylon, you
predator, a blessing on the one who repays you in kind what you have inflicted
on us; a blessing on the one who seizes your babies and dashes them against the
rocks!” (Ps 137:8-9).
“It is difficult to overstate the influence of this metanarrative of mobility in shaping subsequent Jewish traditions from antiquity to the present day” (Glas and Lieberman 2025:2).
Furthermore, even those living in the Land of Israel after 538 BCE also:
“felt that they were in exile as long as the Temple was not rebuilt and even afterwards, as long as they were under the rule of a foreign power (Berlin 2005:65).
This was because ‘exile’ was experienced not only in geography, but also in the mind. Additionally, Ps 137 addresses the question of future Jewish liturgy which appeared to be at stake due to the destruction of the Temple. There is no question that sacrifices had been discontinued, but what about liturgy?
“What kinds of prayer are now appropriate and what kinds must be abandoned? The poet is exquisitely aware that in the wake of the destruction the poetic discourse about Jerusalem (an important earlier form of praise to God) must change from praise to lament” (Berlin 2005:69).
Earlier references in the Torah use the very fear of exile—even from a land the Israelites did not yet possess—as a consequence of disobedience (Lev. 26:33 and Deut. 28:64). For the most part, “exile meant death, deportation, destruction, and devastation” for the Israelites (Klein 1979:2). Besides Ps 137, there may, however, be another ‘mobility’ or ‘exilic’ narrative that has been overlooked within the Psalms, and that is Ps 33.
2) Psalm 33
Some challenge the assertion that Ps 137 is the only clear exilic psalm and suggest that Ps 33, with its theme of “trusting worship,” can also be considered an exilic psalm.[3] Scholarship has not yet clearly defined either the Sitz im Leben or date of composition for Ps 33. The fact that it is also the only psalm in Book I without a superscription doesn’t help with the dating. This psalm speaks about singing a new song—something that was anathema to Ps 137:
שִֽׁירוּ־ל֭וֹ שִׁ֣יר חָדָ֑שׁ הֵיטִ֥יבוּ נַ֝גֵּ֗ן בִּתְרוּעָֽה׃
“Sing Him a new song; play sweetly with shouts of joy” (Ps 33:3).
While Ps 137 depicts anger and revenge from a distraught
people who have been displaced and refuse to sing their old songs in exile, Ps
33 shows a different attitude entirely. Now the victims of a forced migration have
come to accept that they can sing new songs. The Temple structure is no longer
evident in Ps 33, but the people can still sing. Although now disconnected from
priesthood and the ritual of sacrifice, not only can they “praise,” but
even “rejoice” notwithstanding the exile. Although they no longer have kings
(אֵֽין־הַ֭מֶּלֶךְ נוֹשָׁ֣ע
בְּרׇב־חָ֑יִל, Ps
33:16) and horses (שֶׁ֣קֶר הַ֭סּוּס
לִתְשׁוּעָ֑ה, Ps
33:17), they can still rejoice their
hearts (כִּי־ב֭וֹ יִשְׂמַ֣ח
לִבֵּ֑נו,
Ps 33:21).
In this reading, even a sustained forced exile and total devastation (Ps 137) can be turned about into a de facto positive experience (Ps 33). This study proceeds along similar lines to completely deconstruct and then reconstruct the stereotypical notions of exile and diaspora as depicted in Ps 137.
Alexandria
In 38 CE, Philo of Alexandria described the voluntary migration of Jews—Ἰουδαῖοι (Ioudaioi)—from Jerusalem to the surrounding Mediterranean areas as a constructive and productive event. The reason for this relocation was apparent overcrowding in Jerusalem, which prompted them to leave, but they still regarded Jerusalem as their mother city and the Land of Israel as their land:
“For no single country can contain the Jews because of their multitude, and for this reason they inhabit the most extensive and wealthiest districts in Europe and Asia both on islands and on mainlands, and while they regard the Holy City as their mother city, in which is founded and consecrated the temple of the most high God, yet they severally hold that land as their fatherland which they obtained by inheritance from fathers and grandfathers and great-grandfathers and still more remote ancestors for their portion to dwell in…” (In Flaccum 46, translated by H. Box; Philonis Alexandrini, In Flaccum).
Philo uses a distinctively Greek vocabulary for the Jews' relationship to Jerusalem, comparing it to the relationship of colonial Greeks—away from their homes—to their own mother cities. In terms of Mobility Theory, this seems to represent a certain tension between Philo’s connection to his Diaspora homeland and his faithfulness to Jerusalem (Pearce 2004:21). However, it still demonstrates that there were other ways of viewing the Diaspora experience than that depicted by untold sorrow and intense revenge as articulated in Ps 137.
Diaspora without a longing to return
Maccabees
Ps 137 and Philo show that Diaspora can be both imposed and voluntary, respectively, while always keeping Jerusalem foremost in the hearts of the exiles. Recent studies, however, have shown that in many instances Jews “developed deeply rooted communities without any apparent longing to return to the homeland” (Glas and Lieberman 2025:8). An example of this is 3 Maccabbes, where the Jews—the largest and most important Jewish diaspora community in the Hellenistic world—were extremely comfortable and legally protected in Alexandria, during the reign of Ptolemy IV, until his hostility suddenly threatened them (late 3rd century BCE).
Philo and 3 Maccabees suggest that the unqualified use of the term ‘Diaspora’ (usually associated with discomfort and persecution) may not always be an accurate way of understanding every diaspora experience, and may even “obscure our understanding of ancient realities” (Glas and Lieberman 2025:9). Extending this a little further, this also means that it may only be useful to use terms like ‘Exile’ and ‘Diaspora’ as broad heuristic expressions alone, without weighing them with predominantly negative connotations.
Sasanian Persia (Bavel) in Talmudic times
All too often, the negative implications of the exile drawn from Ps 137 are also implanted directly into the second exile after the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE. However, it can be well argued that, while certainly a Diaspora community, Sasanian Persia (still referred to by the Jews at that time as Bavel, or Babylonia), thrived in a predominantly peaceful environment for many centuries (up to the fifth century):
“Fourth-century Babylonian Jewry was heir to more than 850 years of peaceful coexistence with its neighbors” (Elman 2007:168).
The Jews established academies of learning in Sura, Pumbadita and Nehardea, which produced the Babylonian Talmud, incorporating the Tannaic (Mishna) period (10-210 CE) followed by the Amoraic (Gemara or Talmudic) period (210-586 CE). The community was large and well-integrated into general Sassanian society. It has been shown that there was indeed significant Sassanian influence on the Babylonian Talmud:
“At the same time, the official religion of the Persian Empire, Zoroastrianism, was comfortable and even familiar to the Jews… This was true of its ethical system as well… Moreover, such staples of rabbinic thought as the importance of oral transmission of sacred texts and the authority of learned elites have striking analogues among Zoroastrian thinkers…[T]he evidence preserved in the Babylonian Talmud indicates [that] Jewish acculturation to the Persian way of life, mores, and culture was high” (Elman 2007:165-66).
Rashi makes a telling comment on a Talmudic expression ‘Chaver’ (similar to the academic use of ‘Fellow’ or ‘Colleague'):
חבר: אותה מבני פרסיים
“[The expression] Chaver [Fellow] refers to the Persians” (Rashi to b. Shabbat 11a, loose translation is mine).
This peaceful coexistence is further expressed in a Talmudic text:
אָמַר רַב הוּנָא: אֵלּוּ גָּלִיּוֹת שֶׁל בָּבֶל, שֶׁדַּעְתָּן
מְיוּשֶּׁבֶת עֲלֵיהֶן וכו...אֵלּוּ גָּלִיּוֹת שֶׁל שְׁאָר אֲרָצוֹת, שֶׁאֵין
דַּעְתָּן מְיוּשֶּׁבֶת עֲלֵיהֶן וכו
Rav Huna said: ‘These exiles of Bavel, their minds are settled…[but] the exiles of other lands, their minds are not settled’ (b. Menachot 110a, loose translation is mine).
Zoroastrianism advanced a pronounced dialectical style of reasoning and law-making. Scholars of what today is called Irano-Talmudica—the study of the Babylonian Talmud in its Sasanian context—observe that the Talmud also adopted a rigorous dialectical and argumentative style. Jewish law, theology and cosmology appear to have absorbed, other times resisted, or simply reinterpreted elements of Zoroastrian thought. This interaction could only have occurred in an environment conducive to such close acculturation:
“As is often the case, some of these claims are stronger than others; yet in the aggregate, they suggest that Babylonian Jewish beliefs, myths, and rituals were in some ways shaped by a prolonged and powerful encounter with Zoroastrianism” (Secunda 2016:271).
It is interesting to see that centuries later, a similar case was made against the Tosafist dialectical style of argumentation, this time found in the writings of the Baalei haTosafot (11th-14th centuries). The adaptation of dialectics as a study methodology was referred to as ‘Dialectica shel Goyim,’ or dialectics of the non-Jews, suggesting that this was not an indigenous Jewish approach.
There was even Christian opposition to dialectics in the Church. Bernard of Chartres, being a mystic, was very much opposed to the dialectical method of study which was so popular in the cathedral schools, and he tried to get students back to the monasteries. Expressing his disdain for dialectics—which he called ‘Babylon’—he wrote rather tellingly:
“Flee from the midst of this Babylon and save your souls; fly to the cities of refuge [i.e., the monasteries]. You will find much more in the forests than in the books, and the rocks will teach you more than any master” (cited in Le Goff 1993:21-22).
The intertextuality and acculturation between Jews and Sasanian Persians in ‘Bavel’—to an extent that religious study methodologies were irreversibly affected—could only have taken place in a diasporic culture of comfort.
Their compatriots, on the other hand, the Jews who remained
in Palestine in places like Tiberias, Sepphoris, and Caesarea and produced the Jerusalem
or Palestinian Talmud, did not fare so well. They suffered Roman and
later Byzantine persecution between the second and sixth centuries CE.
‘Exile’ and ‘Diaspora’
In this study, the terms ‘exile’ and ‘diaspora’ were generally used interchangeably, although technically “exile implies loss of home [while] diaspora suggests a home-away-from-home” (Reimer 2010:15). Reimer argues that living in a mindset of ‘exile’ implies succumbing to the fate of remaining an alien who is cut off from ‘home’ with an immediate and urgent desire to ‘return home.’ However, living in a ‘diaspora’ suggests a resident with a ‘home’ and with potential for engagement, and no immediate impulse to ‘return’ (Riemer 2010:17). Perhaps Tehillim incorporates these two theological approaches to—or a balance between—both Exile and Diaspora.
Bibliography
Berlin, A., 2005, ‘Psalms and the Literature of Exile:
Psalm 137, 44, 69, and 78’, in The Book of Psalms: Composition and Reception,
Edited by Peter W. Flint and Patrick D. Miller, Brill, Leiden, 65-86.
Elman, Y., 2007, ‘Middle Persian Culture and
Babylonian Sages: Accommodation and Resistance in the Shaping of Rabbinic Legal
Tradition’, in Cambridge Companion to Rabbinic Literature, Edited by Charlotte
Elisheva Fonrobert and Martin S. Jaffe, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 165-197.
Glas, E., and Liebermann, R., 2015, ‘Mobility and
Identity Formation in Ancient Judaism’, NTT Journal for Theology and the
Study of Religion, vol. 79, no.1, 1-16.
Klein, R. W., 1979, Israel in Exile: A Theological
Interpretation, Fortress, Philadelphia, 18–22.
Le Goff, J., 1993, Intellectuals in the Middle
Ages, Wiley-Blackwell.
Manning, P., 2004, Migration in World History,
Routledge, London.
Pearce, S.J.K., 2004, 'Jerusalem as
"Mother-City" in the Writings of Philo of Alexandria,' in Negotiating
Diaspora: Jewish Strategies in the Roman Empire, Edited by John M. G.
Barclay, T&T Clark, 19-37.
Reimer, D. J., 2010, ‘Exile, Diaspora, and Old
Testament Theology’, SBET, vol. 28, no. 1, 3-17.
Secunda, S., 2026, ‘The Bavli and Zoroastrianism’,
in What is the Talmud? The State of the Question, Edited by Jay
Harris and Christine Hayes, Harvard University Press, 256-277.
[1]
Numbers 20:18-21.
[2] The notion of ‘homeland’ is difficult to define exactly. It may be that Second Temple Jews regarded Jerusalem and its immediate environs—not necessarily the greater portion of the land—as the homeland (Glas and Lieberman 2025:8, n. 21). This seems evident from “If I forget you Jerusalem” (Ps 137:5).
[3] It may also be possible to add Ps 44, 69, and 78 to the list of exilic psalms.
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