Sing Us a Song, They Say

What do you do when the world wants a performance, 

not a testimony?

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For our captors asked us for a song, and our tormentors called for mirth: "Sing us one of the songs of Zion."

— From Psalm 137

This is one of the most haunting verses in Scripture — because it doesn’t describe cruelty in the form of chains or whips.
It describes cruelty in the form of expectation.

The exiles are grieving. Their temple is gone. Their homeland is in ruins. And their captors have only one request:

“Sing. Entertain us.
Tell us what faith sounds like. But don’t tell us what pain sounds like.”

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This hits close to home.

There are seasons in life when people don’t want your honesty — they want your performance.
They want your music, your smile, your warmth, your hospitality, your insight — but not your story.

They want the part of you that comforts them, not the part that might challenge them.
They want to quote the faith that carried you, but not listen to what you had to walk through to find it.
They want the Psalms, but not the lament.
The Gospel, but not the Gethsemane.
Your voice, but not your volume.

And when you speak your truth — when you question, or resist, or go quiet — you quickly learn how uncomfortable your truth makes them. The room changes. The invitations stop. Your name gets quieter in their circles.

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There’s a reason this verse feels so resonant right now. We live in a time of keyboard courage and curated outrage. Everyone wants to be righteous — but only if it aligns with their algorithm.

True righteousness is inconvenient.
It notices things others don’t want to see.
It walks toward injustice, even when it’s subtle or internal.
It does not perform on command.

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There is a sacred power in knowing when not to sing.

Sometimes silence is the only thing left with dignity in it.
Sometimes resistance isn’t shouting — it’s withholding the song.
And sometimes what people call “bitterness” is just what grief sounds like when it’s been ignored too long.

📖 Reflectionary is moving. This is the last Reflectionary to be published on Blogger. From now on, it will appear in Substack. Throughout October, I will publish links here, in this space.