In our modern day lament is a lost discipline among Christians and a forgotten ritual in the church at large. It is rare today to hear a Christian pray a lament or to hear such a prayer in a service of Christian worship. Our culture—addicted as it is to the hedonistic life and averse to any serious engagement with sin and death, suffering and sorrow—has affected us more than we might like to think. And yet God desires his people to lament. In his wisdom he has dedicated a whole book in the canon of Christian Scripture to this subject. Lamentations is therefore a place to learn from lament in order to lament. As we spend time reading it, we will gain a heart of wisdom. As Ecclesiastes states, “the heart of the wise is in the house of mourning” (Eccles. 7:4), and Lamentations brings us into that house. The first half of Lamentations 1 invites us to learn three things in the house of mourning.
First, the laments of Lamentations arise because of two realities that Jerusalem-Judah has experienced, both of which are common to all mankind: sin and its consequences. The context of lament is sin and the mess it brings. If there is one thing Lamentations 1 communicates, it is the seriousness of sin and the misery that sin creates. Our modern world finds sin to be harmless and funny; commendable in some situations, excusable in others. But the Bible in general, and Lamentations in particular, presents a very different picture. To rebel against God’s Word is neither harmless nor funny; it is neither commendable nor excusable. To commit multiple transgressions against God is to incur miserable consequences. The opening section of Lamentations presents us with loneliness, inconsolable weeping, affliction, enslavement to an enemy, restlessness, mourning, captivity, groaning, hunger, and starvation. In other words, where there is sin, there is suffering.
Of course, some care is needed in the pastoral application of this connection. While we may experience suffering as a result of our own sins, not all suffering is directly related to our own sins (cf. John 9). The children who were led into captivity (Lam. 1:5) may not have been guilty of covenant unfaithfulness themselves, and yet they suffered for the sins of their parents. This principle can be traced all the way back to the sin of our first father, Adam. Born in Adam, we live under sin’s dominion and its common curse (Rom. 5:12). Death and all the suffering that leads up to it are inescapable (Rom. 6:23); so too are the groanings of the fallen creation (Rom. 8:22). In this respect sin affects everything, and so whatever suffering we experience in this life is related to sin in some way, either to our own sin or someone else’s, yet ultimately to Adam’s (which is ours through his representing us). What Lamentations teaches is how to respond to the sin and suffering we experience in this fallen world: it teaches us to lament.
Second, Lamentations, read in the light of the NT, points to a single solution to our sin and misery. The refrain of chapter 1 (“There is none to comfort”), repeated three times in this opening section, is answered in the Great Comforter, Jesus Christ: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28–30). Christ can provide such rest for weary sinners because the experience of Woman-Jerusalem, Lady Zion, finds echoes in the person and work of Christ. The inspired personification of the city and nation as an inconsolable woman (Lam. 1:1–2) or an afflicted man (Lam. 3:1) was designed by the Holy Spirit to culminate in a single person, Jesus Christ—the Man of Sorrows.
As Jesus explained on the road to Emmaus, the Scriptures of the OT witnessed to his suffering and glory (Luke 24:25–26), and this is no less true for Lamentations. Although there are no direct quotations of Lamentations in the NT, many of the experiences of the lonely woman-city in chapter 1 may be seen in the lonely man Jesus Christ. Like the weeping Lady Zion (Lam. 1:2), Jesus weeps over Jerusalem and also at the death of his friend Lazarus; he experiences the betrayal of his “friend” Judas, who hands him over to his enemies (cf. v. 2). On the cross he goes into exile and finds no rest for his soul (v. 3). While he hangs there, with his nakedness exposed to all (v. 8), his enemies mock him, gloating over his demise (v. 7). He experiences desertion from his family and friends (v. 1), distress in his spirit (v. 3), and disgrace in public (v. 11). He also knows what it is to hunger (v. 11) and thirst. Truly, he can say, “O Lord, behold my affliction, for the enemy has triumphed! . . . Look, O Lord, and see, for I am despised” (vv. 9, 11). And, in the end, when he cries the cry of dereliction, there is none to comfort—even God is silent.
The “ghastly horror of war” in Lamentations depicts in miniature the ghastly horror of hell that Jesus experiences on the cross. In the bloody and beaten and abandoned Jerusalem we see the bloody and beaten and abandoned Jesus. Jerusalem symbolizes Judah, and Judah (her princes and her people) typifies Jesus. Jerusalem’s destruction and exile is Jesus’ Golgotha; Judah’s captivity is Jesus’ Calvary. However, from that judgment experience comes salvation and comfort for God’s sinful and miserable people (cf. Isa. 40:1–2).
Third, the story of Scripture moves from life with God in a garden to life with God in a garden-city. As redemptive history unfolds, that city is identified as Jerusalem, the place where God sets his name to dwell with his people (Deut. 12:5). The city is captured and fortified by David, but it reaches its zenith really only under King Solomon, who builds a temple for God on Mount Moriah and completes the fortification of the city begun by his father. At its height in biblical history and on the world stage Jerusalem is Zion, the city of the great King—beautiful in elevation, the joy of the whole world (Ps. 48:2). It is a picture of heaven on earth, the way Eden was meant to be. The tragedy of Jerusalem’s fall in Lamentations therefore cannot be overstated, nor is it ever wiped from the Jewish memory (cf. Ps. 137:5–6).
The hope for Jerusalem’s future is not entirely smashed with the Babylonian invasion. Indeed, Lamentations ends with pleas for the restoration and renewal of the community and its city (Lam. 5:21–22). Such a request to God reveals the presence of faith and hope. The hope is rekindled by prophets such as Ezekiel, who envisages a renewed temple (one even greater than the first; Ezekiel 40–48), and Zechariah, who predicts that Jerusalem will again become a center of worship for the nations. However, in the postexilic period these expectations never fully materialize. While King Herod renovates the temple again in about 20–10 BC, it is eventually destroyed by the Romans in AD 70 and the city of Jerusalem captured again. If one were to understand Jerusalem in the Hebrew Scriptures merely on the horizontal plane, then the book of Lamentations serves nothing more than a retrospective function, a means to memorialize what happened in the past, a feeble attempt at nostalgia. But if Jerusalem is read on the vertical plane of redemptive history, being relocated and transformed into the heavenly Mount Zion through the person and work of her King, Jesus Christ (cf. Heb. 12:22–24), then Lamentations serves a prospective function, a means for her citizens to long for a new Jerusalem in the future—Jerusalem the Golden. Lamentations orients our vision back to a Jerusalem below—deserted, distressed, and despised. But in doing so, it projects us forward, as we long for the Jerusalem above that will once again be beautiful in elevation, the joy of all the earth. How lonely sits the city below, yes; but how golden sits the city above, amen. God is in the midst of her, with his victorious Son at his right hand—she shall not be moved. It is this heavenly Jerusalem, the Mount Zion above, that the book of Revelation begins to fix our eyes upon as we look to the return of her King to consummate all things (Revelation 21–22).Lamentations 1:1–11
Lamentations 1:12–22
Or under affliction
Or in the narrow passes
Septuagint, Old Latin dragged away
Or end
1:1 The opening verse of Lamentations contains several notable features. Its internal division deviates from the regular three bicola pattern per stanza. Instead, the verse comprises a monocolon (“How lonely sits the city”), followed by a bicolon (“that was full of people! / How like a widow has she become”), followed by a tricolon (“she who was great among the nations! / She who was a princess among the provinces / has become a slave.”). Each colonic division lengthens as the verse progresses, drawing out the tragedy of Jerusalem’s situation. In syntactical terms the first line is doubly marked: the exclamatory “How!” is an interjective particle used to express “unbridled grief” at Jerusalem’s situation (cf. Lam. 2:1; 4:1; cf. Jer. 48:17), and the adverbial modifier “lonely” is fronted to intensify the main verb: “How lonely sits the city . . . !” The word “lonely” carries some irony since it is used elsewhere in the OT with the word “sits/dwells” in the context of “safety” or “security” while living in solitude (cf. Deut. 33:28; Jer. 49:31). The verse expresses the great (ironic) reversals that Judah’s beloved capital had experienced, with the positive statements about the city being immediately reversed: from a wife plentiful with children to a widow, lonely and bereaved; from a princess among the provinces to a slave to the nations. The metaphor of widowhood gives way to the reality of servitude and enslavement, which recalls Israel’s status at her beginning in Egypt (Ex. 1:11). What Jerusalem once was and what Jerusalem now is could not be more different.
1:2–3 These two verses continue the marked emphasis in Lamentations 1:1: Jerusalem “weeps bitterly in the night.” All her friends have betrayed her. She “dwells . . . among the nations.” All her pursuers have overwhelmed her. The markedness heightens the tragic reversal that has occurred: Jerusalem’s friends have become her foes; her lovers have become her pursuers. The thrice-repeated “all” in these verses reveals the totality of the betrayal: not a single friend remains. As a result, she weeps bitterly throughout the night. Her grief is visible too: her tears roll down her cheeks for all to see. The extent of the betrayal is expressed in her having none to comfort her from among all her lovers. As House comments, “Jerusalem’s agony is as solitary as it is bitter.” The reference to “her lovers” is the first indication in the chapter that what has happened to the lonely city is not some unfortunate tragedy or mysterious providence but rather something of her own doing. With the Lord as her husband Jerusalem was called to covenant fidelity, expressed in the pure worship at his temple. Sadly, her history revealed one affair after another, in which she committed adultery through alliances with other nations (e.g., Ezek. 16:28–29; 23:5–21; Hos. 8:9–10). She ignored the warnings of her prophets not to make the alliances (e.g., Isaiah 36–39; Jeremiah 27). Instead she listened to the false prophets who did not expose her iniquity, which would have restored her fortunes (Lam. 2:14). Her punishment was that she now suffered the kind of treachery that she herself had committed against her husband, Yahweh.
The result was devastation not only for the city but for the nation as a whole. Judah went into exile (1:3) in order that she might serve time in “affliction” and “servitude.” The two words continue the theme of slavery begun in verse 1, with “affliction” recurring several times in the book (1:7, 9; 3:1, 19). The language evokes the sore memory of Israel’s time as slaves in Egypt (Ex. 1:14; 2:23; 5:11; 6:6, 9). Judah is now back where she began. This is why she finds no rest as she dwells among the nations, just as Moses predicted in the covenant curses (Deut. 28:65).
The lack of rest that she now experiences was not for want of attempting to escape her enemies. When the Babylonians came to destroy Jerusalem, many fled for their lives. The language of “pursuers . . . overtaken” recalls the terminology used to describe the attempt of Zedekiah to flee Jerusalem as the Babylonians entered (2 Kings 25:1–7). Even then it was futile for the nation; all her pursuers overtook her in her “distress.” The word “distress” might refer to the “narrow straits” of escape (in contrast to a spacious place; cf. Ps. 118:5) or to certain life circumstances that are inescapable (e.g., the “pangs of Sheol”; Ps. 116:3). In either case it adds a sense of emotional intensity to the pursuit of the invaders. The theme of pursuit returns throughout the book (Lam. 1:6; 3:43, 66; 4:19; 5:5), but at the outset Judah is presented as a nation in exile, exhausted from being hunted.
1:4–6 The city of Jerusalem remains the focus. She is named twice, and ten pronouns refer to her. These verses describe the mournful abandonment that Jerusalem now experiences, unpacking in detail the “loneliness” of Jerusalem (v. 1). Each verse speaks either of those who no longer come to Jerusalem (the worshipers for appointed calendar feasts; v. 4) or those who have left Jerusalem (the young children who have gone into captivity, v. 5; the majestic princes who have gone out like deer before their pursuer, v. 6). The comprehensive nature of the abandonment is underscored by the different categories of people mentioned: priests and princes; virgins and young children. Verse 4 continues the use of sorrowful language through personification: the ways to Zion are “mournful,” the gates are “desolate/appalled,” the priests “groan,” “virgins” are “afflicted”—in sum, the city is in bitterness. The whole picture is one of devastated worship in Zion. Several marked cola highlight the sadness of the situation: She herself is in bitterness. Her young children have gone into exile. From the daughter of Zion the princes have departed. The city lies unprotected: the gates are desolate, and no warrior princes remain to fight for her security.
In verse 4 the city is identified for the first time. She is “Zion,” an alternate descriptor for Judah’s beloved capital (vv. 4, 6). The name is not simply a synonym for Jerusalem but rather speaks of the city’s importance as the temple dwelling place of Yahweh, Judah’s King. The title would recall the Songs of Zion, which praised God for his presence and protection over his beloved city (Psalms 46–48). In those songs the ways to Zion were joyful, but now they “mourn” (Lam. 1:4); the gates of Zion formed part of the city’s fortress, but now they are “desolate” (v. 4). Here the cessation of worship in Zion is highlighted, since all roads to Zion led to the temple.
Verse 5 alludes to the covenant blessings and curses of Deuteronomy 28 with its mention of Judah’s enemies’ becoming the “head.” If Israel obeyed, Moses promised, they would be the “head” (Deut. 28:13); if they disobeyed, they would be the “tail” (Deut. 28:44). Sadly, for God’s people the covenant warnings of Deuteronomy 28 have been realized through their own disobedience. The link between the first mention of Yahweh by name and the reason Zion sits lonely and desolate is not coincidental: “because the Lord has afflicted her for the multitude of her transgressions” (Lam. 1:5). This bicolon forms the center of verses 4–6. Within it “the Lord” is fronted for emphasis, removing any mystery as to Jerusalem’s suffering. The city is experiencing mournful dereliction because of God’s punishment, a judgment thoroughly justified because of Judah’s multiplied transgressions.
Verse 6 switches the metaphor of the city from widow to daughter. Zion is Yahweh’s “daughter,” a term conveying comfort and nurture. The subject of the verb is delayed until the second line of the bicolon, adding suspense to what exactly has departed from Zion: it is the city’s “majesty.” This word is used elsewhere to speak of God’s glory or majesty (Pss. 96:6; 145:5), conferred on Jerusalem by God (Ezek. 16:6–14). One interpretation of Lamentations 1:6 could be that the glory of God had departed from the city with the Babylonian destruction. However, another interpretation is possible. The word “majesty” is used in Isaiah 5:13–14, where the prophet predicts that Jerusalem’s dignitaries (the “nobility,” same Hb. word) will descend into Sheol. Given the conceptual affinity of Lamentations 1:6 to Isaiah’s prophesy, the “majesty” departing Zion may be the political, military, and civil leaders. Certainly this fits with the reference to “princes” fleeing their pursuers like starving deer on the open plains. If this reading is correct, then Zion lies not only lonely but also abandoned, with not even her warrior-leaders prepared to stay and fight for her.
1:7–10 These verses convey the city’s mournful remembrance under the affliction of its enemy. The unit comprises thirteen bicola, with verse 8c constituting the middle bicolon of the unit: “she herself groans and turns her face away.” The groaning is emphatic and is given expression in verse 9: “O Lord, behold my affliction, for the enemy has triumphed!” The groaning of the city is explained by the presence of her enemies, who dominate these verses; they are mentioned in each verse: the foe (v. 7 [x2]), those who despise Jerusalem (v. 8), and the enemy (vv. 9, 10). “Precious things” most likely refers to the holy things of the temple, though the phrase “from days of old” may suggest a broader meaning. The “hand[s] of the foe” in dispossessing Jerusalem of her precious things forms an inclusio to this small unit (vv. 7, 10). For the first time the city is called Jerusalem (vv. 7, 8). While the name Zion will occur again many times, in some respects the city is no longer “Zion,” the glorious fortress city of God. In her desolate state, with her leaders departed and her people afflicted (vv. 5–6), she is now simply “Jerusalem.”
While the names Zion and Jerusalem are sometimes used interchangeably in the book (1:17; 2:10, 13), there appears to be a distinction between them. Both Zion and Jerusalem are personified in Lamentations, but each is presented differently. Of the fifteen occurrences of Zion, none speaks of her actively sinning; she is more acted upon than acting. In contrast, of the seven occurrences of Jerusalem two identify her as the active agent sinning grievously against the Lord (1:8) and becoming a filthy thing among the nations (vv. 8, 17). At the risk of oversimplification, we might say that Zion is the suffering city in Lamentations whereas Jerusalem is the sinful city. However, the distinction should not be overplayed, since Jerusalem is also said to suffer affliction (1:7; 2:10, 13, 15).
Lamentations 1:7, with its irregular four-bicola stanza (cf. 2:19), stands out as unique compared to the regular pattern of three bicola per verse. The increased length draws out the occasion on which Jerusalem lost all her precious things: when her people fell into the hand of the foe. Jerusalem remembers her precious things “in the days of her affliction and wandering,” a phrase used to describe the exile. The term “affliction” refers to misery or an oppressed situation, while “wandering” conveys homelessness. Together the two words echo the wandering of mankind east of Eden in the misery of its sin. Judah at present is east of the Promised Land, scattered among the nations—miserable and homeless. Her “precious things”— the holy things of the temple—have now become the possession of her foes. When her people fell into the hand of her adversaries, she had “none to help to her,” a slight deviation from the refrain “none to comfort her” (cf. 1:2, 9, 16, 17, 21). Not only did her foes take all her precious things, but they ransacked her with an attitude of gloating and mockery. This theme returns throughout the book (1:21; 2:15–16; 3:14; 4:21).
Each bicolon of 1:8 is pragmatically marked for emphasis or focus in some way. In verse 8a Jerusalem’s act of sinning (cf. v. 5) is intensified, with the infinitive absolute preceding the verb; she did not merely sin against Yahweh but “sinned grievously” against him. Verse 8b introduces the consequence of such behavior: “therefore she became filthy.” In Hebrew the word “filthy” is fronted for emphasis. Finally, verse 8c contains the focus particle gam, which highlights the city’s groaning: “she herself groans.” There is a natural progression to the verse: the act of sinning led to filthiness and nakedness, which in turn led to groaning and shameful embarrassment. The theme of divine reversal returns in verse 8b: “all who honored her [now] despise her.” Her promiscuous behavior with the nations has exposed her nakedness for all to see. She is no longer a princess among the provinces but a prostitute among them (contrast v. 2b). Given her exposed condition, the final statement of her groaning comes as no surprise (v. 8c). Sin always leads to misery.
Verse 9 continues the metaphor of the city as an unclean woman but now underscores the permanent nature of her sin. It is not something easily washed away; rather, it is like an indelible stain on her skirts. Through the unfaithful behavior of Judah’s kings Jerusalem played the harlot with other nations, whoring after their gods. Solomon built altars to the gods Chemosh and Molech, east of Jerusalem (1 Kings 11:7), but descendants in his royal line did far worse. Manasseh built altars in the house of the Lord in Jerusalem to worship the host of heaven, sacrificing his own son on one of them (2 Kings 21:6). He set the carved image of Asherah in the house of God (2 Kings 21:7). The text states twice that Manasseh did this “in the house of the Lord” in Jerusalem, where God said he would set his name forever (2 Kings 21:4, 7). Syncretism and idolatry characterized much of Judah’s history despite the reforms by Hezekiah and Josiah. This was the adulterous stain on her skirts. As a promiscuous woman she “took no thought” for the future consequences of her actions.
The words in Lamentations 1:9 are, literally, “she did not remember.” This recalls, with some irony, verse 7: “Jerusalem remembers.” In her adulterous and idolatrous behavior she lived for the moment, taking no thought for the ramifications. But now, in the days of her affliction and wandering, she is forced to remember what she once was, what she once possessed. Remembering not, she remembers! As with verse 8, there is an action-result nexus here: she had uncleanness in her skirt, taking no thought for the future; therefore, her fall was “terrible.” The verb used for “fall” describes the fall of a city (Deut. 20:20) or the defeat of a nation (Isa. 47:1). Here it refers to the Babylonian invasion and destruction of Jerusalem and the temple in 586 BC: her fall was “terrible” or, we might say, “spectacular.” Ironically, the word is generally used in the OT of God’s doing great “wonders” for his people (e.g., Ex. 15:11; Isa. 25:1). Israel’s redemption by the hand of Yahweh was wonderful, but now her affliction by the same hand is terrible. The refrain in Lamentations 1:9 reminds the reader of the severity of her fall: “she has no comforter.” And yet, the lack of a comforter does not stop her crying out to the one who had promised comfort through the prophet Isaiah for such a time as this (Isa. 40:1–2).
Lamentations 1:9c provides us with the first spoken words of the bereaved Lady Jerusalem. They indicate that, though she may have turned away in shameful embarrassment from the nations at her current state (v. 8), in her affliction she turns back to her God in prayer: “O Lord, behold my affliction, for the enemy has triumphed!” This shifts the poem from the third-person narrator to the first-person speaker. The imperative “behold” functions like a focus marker of attention (cf. v. 11, 20; 2:20), as the personified city calls on her covenant Lord to take notice of her condition. The use of this verb may allude back to Exodus 2:23–25, when Yahweh “saw” (same Hb. verb) his people’s suffering and came to the rescue. The word “affliction” captures the entirety of her experience from the destruction of the city to the exile of her people (cf. Lam. 1:3, 7). It is used again of the personified nation in chapter 3, where the representative, persecuted man is introduced for the first time (3:1, 19). In 1:5 Yahweh is identified as the ultimate agent behind Jerusalem’s affliction; here in verse 9 an intermediate agent is identified: the enemy nations. Thus there is a double agency (proximate and ultimate) behind the city’s affliction. By praying to Yahweh about the enemy’s triumph over them, the people are acknowledging that, while their foe has gained the upper hand, the Lord can still deliver them if he so pleases.
Verse 10 returns to the issue of the enemy’s interest in Jerusalem’s “precious things.” The opening bicolon fronts “enemy” (or “foe”; cf. v. 7), rounding out the emphasis on the dominant power of Jerusalem’s enemies over her (cf. v. 7). The description of what the enemy has done confirms that the “precious things” of verse 7 relate to the holy things of the temple: the nations who stretched out their hand on the “precious things” did so by entering Jerusalem’s sanctuary (v. 10). The sanctuary, whether in the tabernacle or the temple, was sanctified by God’s holy presence (cf. Ex. 25:8). This is why Gentile nations in general, and some in particular, were forbidden to enter God’s dwelling place on earth (Deut. 23:3, 7–8). The shared vocabulary between the two texts (“none of them may enter” and “congregation/assembly of the Lord”) indicates a deliberate allusion from Lamentations to Deuteronomy. That the nations did enter Jerusalem’s sanctuary against his express command incurs their own guilt before Yahweh, even though they were his agents in bringing judgment upon his people (cf. Lam. 1:21, 22; 3:64; 4:21, 22).
1:11 Verses 11–12 form the structural center of chapter 1. Verse 11 closes off the first half of the poem, while verse 12 introduces the second half. The verses themselves are interlocked through their own mini-chiasm of commands: “Look, O Lord, and see . . . Look [O mankind] and see” (vv. 11–12).
Verse 11 repeats the theme of groaning in verses 4, 8. The totality of the groaning is captured by the opening phrase “all her people,” while the clause “as they search for bread” gives vivid expression to it. The words introduce a theme that takes center stage for the rest of the book: hunger and famine (1:19; 2:19; 4:3–5, 7–9; 5:6). Every chapter supports the theme, adding to the desperate picture: Jerusalem’s princes flee the city like half-starved deer but “find no pasture” (1:6). “Infants and babies faint in the streets” for lack of food (2:11). The afflicted man of chapter 3 grinds his teeth on gravel (3:16). Things become so appallingly hard that mothers boil their children for food (4:10; cf. 2:20). The people get their bread at the peril of their lives because of danger in the wilderness (5:9). In chapter 1 they survive by selling their “treasures” (vv. 7, 10) for food; by chapter 5 they pay for the water they drink and the wood they need to make a fire to cook their food. Cheap bread is the price of choice silver; water is bought for a wage.
In such a desperate state it is a small wonder that the voice of the lonely woman is heard again with a second direct plea to God, this time with a double imperative for him to take notice: “Look, O Lord, and see.” The first time she asked God to look upon her circumstance because the enemy had triumphed (1:9); now it is more personal: “For I am despised” (v. 11). The word “despised” is the central word of the whole chapter and recalls the divine reversal of verse 8, in which those who honored her have now become those who despise her.
Despite her desperate plea, God does not answer. In fact, in Lamentations he answers neither the abandoned city-woman nor the afflicted nation-man; God is silent. This is one of the striking features of the book. No response is given to the urgent cries for help, raising pastorally relevant questions that every sufferer has uttered: “Has God heard my groaning? Why is he silent? Does he care?” Even Job receives an answer by the end of the book named after him, but not so for Lady Zion in Lamentations. Indeed, relief will come only by viewing lament in its wider redemptive-historical context, as a God-given means of deliverance. The biblical record is clear: although at times it seems that God is silent, he does hear the prayers of his people, and in his time and according to his will he answers them. From the cry of his people in Egypt (Ex. 2:24–25) and at the Red Sea (Ex. 14:10) to that of his Son in the garden of Gethsemane (Luke 22:39–44) and on the hill of Golgotha (Heb. 5:7), Scripture testifies to the fact that God does respond to the prayers of his people—but in his own time.