Lamentations 3 brings us a change of voice – rather than the voice of Jerusalem, or the poet’s description of Jerusalem we hear from the poet himself about his personal experience of grief. This chapter is even more highly structured than the previous 2. In English it is split into 66 verses, although it is actually the same length in terms of lines as chapters 1-2. It is split into 66 verses because each individual line in each group of 3 lines begins with the same letter of the Hebrew alphabet.
The chapter begins, as with previous chapters in the pit of despair, but this time from the perspective of an individual. If the writer is Jeremiah, as some think possible, it is the writing of one caught up in Jerusalem’s sin and punishment, but who has not participated in that sin. Be that as it may, the poet is expressing his agony at being caught up in Yahweh’s punishment of Jerusalem in intensely personal terms. Not only has Yahweh handed over Jerusalem to Babylon, it feels to this poet that Yahweh has personally attacked him as part of that.
We need to face that unflinchingly, and listen carefully to what the poet says. For he expresses the distress we may well feel one day, and certainly the distress of those who are in our churches in various situations. One of the reasons that I’ve been slower to get this section of Lamentations done is that I’ve been processing my own reactions to the latest abuse revelations in the evangelical world, which have occurred in contexts I am much more familiar with than some of the other recent stories. There is not the space to explore that here – but one reaction we should all have at the very least is to sit with the victims of abuse, listen to their stories and lament the situation we are in.
v1-9 Darkness
Once more we have a litany of Yahweh’s actions, this time against an individual. “I am the man who…” This is a personal testimony of experiencing the rod of Yahweh’s overflowing anger. The rod and staff that comfort (Psalm 23) have turned into a rod of overflowing anger that drives the poet into utter darkness – there is no light. Yahweh’s hand is against him, repeatedly and continually. He feels continually under attack – and from Yahweh himself.
He accuses Yahweh of making him physically weak and broken, Yahweh has surrounded him with bitterness and tribulation. He dwells in darkness like those dead long ago. Yahweh has built around him walls so that he cannot escape. Even though the writer cries and calls for help Yahweh shuts out those prayers. Yahweh has made his paths crooked.
This poet lives in the midst of appalling suffering, which he did not necessarily deserve, and so he cries out and accuses Yahweh. Each of these actions are attributed to Yahweh. Yahweh’s actions in saving and rescuing seem long ago. All the poet has experienced is distress and darkness.
v10-18 Bitterness
The poet moves on, if anything increasing his accusation in intensity. He has been hunted down, torn to pieces and left desolate. He has been shot with arrows into the innermost places of his body. It feels like Yahweh has completely turned on him, and instead of experiencing Yahweh’s rescue and protection he has been hunted down by Yahweh.
Yahweh’s turning on him has also meant that he is a laughingstock of all nations, taunted by those who have now invaded. He is filled with bitterness, the specific word can be used of bitter herbs, which fits with the imagery of being ‘filled’ and ‘satisfied’ – not with the good things that Yahweh delights to give, but with bitterness and wormwood.
He is left cowering in the ashes, there is no peace – no wholeness, no wellbeing left in him. He has forgotten what it has to be happy. His endurance has perished, and so has his hope from Yahweh (or possibly because of Yahweh these things have perished). There is surely no blacker place to be. This sufferer is innocent, and yet is the subject of Yahweh’s attack.
If you are anything like me, what you want to do now is to try to reassure this poet – to persuade him, that while it may feel like Yahweh is against him, he isn’t really. I think the poet would reply:
“But he’s God isn’t he?
And he isn’t stopping anything – and he can can’t he?
So even if it isn’t really Yahweh doing this directly,
he is still standing by while I suffer all this?
What is he up to?”
What we need to realise, and what Lamentations must teach us is that no theology, no matter how profound will help to answer the question “why?” in this moment of darkness. The problem of evil is not fully solvable, at least not this side of eternity. The Bible never solves this problem for us. To be a believer experiencing this, and feeling these things is no sign that we are not a believer, or that our experience is invalid.
And so at this point in Lamentations we sit with the poet in darkness. There is a hope, and we will come on to that, and even these verses can echo something of that hope to us (more on that in another post hopefully), but right now we need to learn how to sit in the darkness and face the agony this poet feels.