4:1–2 Verse 1 begins the same way as did 1:1 and 2:1, with the emphatic exclamatory interjective particle “How!” conveying again the horror at Zion’s present situation, only this time with reference to the holy temple. The temple furniture and finery were plated or embroidered with gold. Furniture-wise, there was the golden table, the golden lampstand, the golden censer and altar, and then the gold-covered ark of the covenant with the golden mercy seat on top (Ex. 25:10–40; 30:1–10); finery-wise, there was gold in the priests’ breastplate and turban (Exodus 28). The lack of specificity of the gold suggests that the prophet intends a general application to all gold elements in the temple that have lost their shine. The statement is intended to be more metaphorical than literal since the gold in the temple was looted by the Babylonians. The language of the gold as dulled and dimmed depicts the ruination of the temple. The second line in Lamentations 4:1 supports this reading, with mention of the “holy stones” lying scattered in the streets. The picture is that of temple destruction, inside and outside.

The same holds for the people of the city, here given the descriptor “precious sons of Zion” (v. 2). Once “worth their weight in fine gold,”99 they have become as worthless as earthen jars, easily discarded and shattered to pieces. The final line of the verse provides some subversive irony: though once the creation of God’s hands, they are now worthless (cf. Isa. 64:8). Thus we have in the opening verse the complete deterioration of temple and people: from glimmering gold to dimmed gold, from fine gold to fragile clay. The two verses reveal a progression. While the temple material is dulled and dimmed (Lam. 4:1), there has been a more fundamental change for the people: they have mutated and ultimately disintegrated (v. 2). The point is emphasized by the repetition of the exclamatory particle “How!” In short, they are worthless and shattered.

4:3–4 The poem now shifts to the topic of starvation, in which mothers are contrasted with jackals and compared with ostriches, respectively. On the one hand, jackals, a wild beast associated with desolated cities (cf. Job 30:29; Isa. 34:13; Lam. 5:18; Mic. 1:8; Mal. 1:3), are said to provide better care for their young than Zion’s mothers do—a stark contrast emphasized by the fronted focus particle gam; on the other hand, mothers are said to be like ostriches, which were known for abandoning their eggs or their young (cf. Job 39:13–16)—a sad comparison spotlighting the cruelty of Zion’s mothers. The language “daughter of my people” denotes the whole community, but in context “daughter” is probably chosen because mothers are in focus. The phrase “my people” in Lamentations 4:3 (cf. vv. 6, 10) reveals how the prophet has remained emotionally engaged with his people (cf. 2:11). Lamentations 4:4 shifts the focus from the mothers to the children, describing horrifying scenes of thirst and starvation among babies and infants. The combination of terms was last used in 2:11 for children’s fainting in the streets. Here the scene is heightened: their tongues cling to the roof of their dry mouths out of thirst (cf. Ps. 137:6), and when they do beg for food, their request goes unanswered (Lam. 4:4).

4:5–6 This stanza continues with the effects of starvation on the community but now shifts focus from the least in society (children) to the greatest (nobles), those who are marked by their food and finery. The famine-by-siege has affected everyone, including the upper class—“the democracy of deprivation”100 is in full effect. The elite, who are used to their rich delicacies and dress, now wandered the streets alone, scavenging for scraps and covering themselves in ash. It is a reversal of the covenant blessings promised by God (cf. Deut. 28:4, 11, 51, 54), the undoing of his work of redemption to raise the needy from the ash heap (1 Sam. 2:8; cf. Ps. 113:7). The reason for the devastating crash is given in Lamentations 4:6. The Hebrew word for “punishment” (ʿawon) can also be used a variety of ways: “guilt” (2 Sam. 22:24), “iniquity” (Num. 14:19), or “punishment” (Jer. 51:6). The rendering of “punishment” is best suited here, given that the second bicolon concerns the overthrow of Sodom and not just its sin or guilt (Lam. 4:6). The verse makes a comparison between the “punishment” of Zion and that of Sodom: Zion’s was greater than Sodom’s.

The point is a sharp one, since in the OT Sodom stands for the epitome of sin at its worst (sexual perversion) and judgment at its fiercest (fire from heaven). But it was used also as an example, a “proverbial prototype”101 (cf. Isa. 1:9–10; Ezek. 16:46–52; cf. also Matt. 11:23–24) to warn people about God’s imminent judgment. Zion’s punishment is worse than Sodom’s because of its length and human cruelty: Sodom’s was over in a moment, without man getting his cruel hands involved in meting out the punishment. Not so Zion’s—the siege alone lasted eighteen months, with the devastating consequences seen in this second half of the poem.

4:7–8 These verses continue with the impact on the upper class in the community: “her princes” (cf. Deut. 33:16). The deterioration is now framed in terms of shriveling complexion and skin. The healthy colors of complexion for the elite (white, red, and sapphire, likened to snow and milk, coral, and sapphire, respectively) are changed to a color blacker than soot. The idea is that princes in their palaces were protected from the damaging and darkening effects of the sun compared to the working peasants and begging poor in the streets. But now, since the princes are thrust into the streets to scavenge for food like the rest of the people (cf. Lam. 4:5), the elite are exposed to the same elements and so lose their healthy color and complexion (v. 7). Their faces become darker than soot, so that they are no longer recognized by the lower class; while their bodies waste for want of food, their skin shrivels on their bones until their limbs look like dried wood. How the ruddy have fallen! “Neither wealth nor health survive the ravages of starvation by siege.”102

4:9 Starvation, scavenging, and shriveling—all this leads to eventual death, but it is a slow one. Once again the prophet employs the rhetorical tool of comparison. He has thus far made comparisons to jackals and ostriches, Sodom and soot; now he makes a comparison to death by the sword. Those who are slain this way are better off—a shocking phrase to use in relation to death!—than those who are slain by hunger. The mixing of the metaphor continues in the second bicolon, in which the verbs connected to hunger (“wasted away”) and the sword (“pierced”) are mixed again. Victims of hunger waste away, pierced through their bodies with want of fruits from the field. But the slain are happy compared to them because their death is quick!

4:10 Since verse 3 the stanza has been moving inevitably toward death, with starvation as the main enemy at work throughout. Verse 10 informs the reader, however, that there is a yet more horrific cruelty than being stabbed to death by starvation. There is also cannibalization—mothers eating their own children, no less! The relationship in the human race that speaks of the most tender care—mother to child (cf. Isa. 49:15)—is twisted into a living hell: mothers boil their own children for food. Thus far, children have captured the prophet’s heart and mind as he has conveyed their plight through tear-soaked eyes (Lam. 2:11–12); they have roused the prophet’s exhortations for his people to plead to God on their behalf (2:19). In 2:20 he asked the rhetorical question to God whether there was any justice in women’s eating the fruit of the womb; here he goes back to the unthinkable again, explaining just how they served up their children for dinner: they boiled them in their own pots!

The verse conveys one of the most grotesque, heart-wrenching, stomach-churning images in the book, if not the whole Bible. The description of the woman as “compassionate,” the same Hebrew root from which “womb” is derived, heightens the horror. Compassionate carers had become cannibalistic cooks—a twisted reversal of epic proportions, if ever there was one! And yet this is not hyperbole; it is, sadly, reality. No wonder, then, that the prophet ends with the emotive “my people.” The words remind us for the third time that this prophet is not a neutral observer but a sympathetic prophet who has wept for his little ones (2:11–12). Though he was not able to save them, at least he now represents them and speaks to God for them, and in so doing he foreshadows another sympathetic Prophet who will come to save the children of Zion from the horrors of another hell.