Original Meaning

AS NOTED IN the introduction, this chapter is an acrostic. Each verse begins with a word whose initial letter follows the twenty-two-letter sequence of the Hebrew alphabet. The first word in verse 1, ʾeka (“How”), begins with aleph. As the initial word in the book, ʾeka is also the traditional name of the book for Hebrew-speaking people.

More than one voice speaks in chapter 1. The poet (the author’s voice) begins, and it is complemented by that of personified Jerusalem. When the chapter is read as a unit, the “back and forth” of the two voices mutually reinforces the tragic dilemma of Jerusalem. Possibly the two voices offer a clue to the performance of the poetry among the survivors of Jerusalem’s downfall. A poetic recital would give the opportunity not only to descriptive language—that is, that of the poet—but also that of the aggrieved herself, ravaged Jerusalem. The two voices are arranged as follows:

A. Verses 1–9a are the voice of the poet.

B. A quotation is attributed to personified Jerusalem in verse 9b.

C. Verses 10–11a are the voice of the poet.

D. An extended quotation is attributed to personified Jerusalem in verses 11b–16.

E. Verse 17 is the voice of the poet.

F. An extended quotation is attributed to personified Jerusalem in verses 18–22.

Verse 1 indicates the theme of the chapter; it depicts the noble city of Jerusalem in the mourning position of a widow. Not only is she described, but she will speak. The imagery for the city is drawn from three cultural traditions: (1) cities described as female, (2) the funeral tradition of public mourning, and (3) a tradition of using uncleanness and nakedness as metaphors for sinful behavior.1

The imagery for Jerusalem, personified and otherwise, runs throughout the chapter. She is a widow, once a noble woman and now a slave (1:1). The NIV rendering in verse 1, “she who was queen,” translates the Hebrew noun śara, which indicates nobility or royalty but does not necessarily refer to a queen. It is the word used for the name of Abraham’s wife, Sarah.

In verse 2 śara is forsaken by her “lovers.” The term has a sexual overtone when used in a similar context by the prophets (e.g., Jer. 2:25b; Ezek. 16:36; Hos. 2:1–13), where it refers either to other gods pursued illicitly or to stronger neighbors with whom Israel or Judah sought to ingratiate themselves. The city’s name is actually used for the first time in verse 4, where she is called “Zion” (also in 1:17). Elsewhere the city is named as “Daughter [of] Zion” (1:6), “Jerusalem” (1:7, 8, 17), and “Virgin Daughter of Judah” (1:15). Because of her sinfulness, the Lord has judged her, and her children have gone into exile (1:5; cf. 1:16, 18). Among her children are named “priests” (1:4, 19), “maidens” (1:4, 18), “people” (1:7, 11), and “young men” (1:15, 18).

The feminine personification runs throughout the chapter, with one exception. In 1:17 the lament is that the “LORD has decreed for Jacob that his neighbors become his foes.” Here the name of the ancestor, which in previous years had sometimes been used for the northern kingdom,2 serves to personify the nation of Judah and its capital as a covenant partner gone bad. Otherwise, the female imagery extends remarkably even to Judah in verse 3.3 Jerusalem is the metaphorical daughter/princess in the Lord’s realm and/or the daughter of Judah (i.e., the name of the state).

The language of chapter 1 refers to the sinfulness of Judah and to a resulting sorrow and suffering. These things are related to one another; sinfulness has led to judgment and suffering. Their link is expressed succinctly in 1:5, “the LORD has brought her [i.e., Zion] grief because of her many sins” (cf. 1:8, 14, 18, 20, 22). The emphasis falls, however, on the grief, the suffering, and the pitiful nature of the city. She “weeps” (1:1–2, 16) and “groans” (1:8, 21–22), and is “in bitter anguish” (1:4) and “distress” (1:20–21). Nothing here points to the relief of the city’s woes.

The ongoing nature of the city’s suffering is underscored by the fivefold repetition of the phrase, “there is [was] none [no one] to comfort her” (Lam. 1:2, 9, 16, 17, 21), and the concluding comment of the chapter that her “heart is faint.”4 In the comment that “her friends have betrayed her” (1:2), the city takes up a familiar theme from the psalms of lament/complaint (Ps. 38:11; 88:8). The chapter falls short of claiming that God has betrayed the city, but it seems clear that the experience of divine judgment has shattered the emotions of the poem’s speakers.

The voice of the poet depicts Jerusalem in the posture of “remembering” her days of affliction (Lam. 1:7). This posture of remembering or bringing to mind again captures much of the reason for the book of Lamentations as a whole. What is depicted for Jerusalem is actually what the readers (or performers) do when reciting the poem.

In verse 16 Jerusalem weeps, for there is no one to comfort her. This is certainly true with respect to the poems of the book. Apart from the marvelous affirmation in 3:22–24, the tenor of the poems is almost unrelieved in its anguish. One gets only a hint of the other side of judgment in 4:21–22, which envisions judgment on the ravagers of Jerusalem and an end to the exile of Judah and Jerusalem. The same term “comfort” (nḥm), however, is used in Isaiah 40:1 in the imperative form as a command to “comfort” Jerusalem, since her anguish will come to an end and because she has paid double for her sins. Possibly there is a scriptural “echo” at work in Isaiah 40:1–2, whereby the cry of Jerusalem in Lamentations is taken up in the prophetic call to comfort the bereaved city.

In verse 22 Jerusalem asks that the evil done to her by her enemies be brought before God so that he can deal with them. An answer to this sentiment also lies largely outside the book. In texts like Obadiah and Isaiah 47 readers again may get an intertextual echo of Lamentations and the desire for vindication.

Bridging Contexts

AN INTERPRETER MAY EXTRACT certain “themes” from Lamentations 1 and then seek to apply them to a setting in ministry today. That exercise would be unhelpful without more consideration of how chapter 1 says what it says. Put another way, there is more to the text than the simple extrapolation of anguish as a result of an ancient tragedy. How “it says what it says” is a primary clue to its meaning for earlier readers, and with proper attention to detail and context, the “how” element can instruct modern readers as well.

(1) The female language points to a familial and corporate depiction of the capital city. By familial is meant the metaphor of membership in God’s family. As the royal “daughter,” she is a member of Yahweh’s family and an intimate covenant partner with him. Jerusalem is also the political and cultural center of Judah. Reference to her is tantamount to a corporate reference to Judah. In that sense, to mention Jerusalem is pars pro toto (a part representing the whole). Her failures, therefore, are failures against a family identity and responsibility. Her shame reflects negatively on her failure to maintain a proper family identity and obedience to its standards of behavior.

(2) Zion laments with respect to her fall from grace and to her anguish. Her mourning reflects in almost ritual fashion a pattern of funeral lament. Rather than first reading this in psychological terms, it is important to read the text as an indication of social status. Daughter Zion has lost her status as virgin princess and as family member. At certain levels of relationship, she has died. Deadly judgment and public shame are mixed together. Her humiliation reflects also the shame of rejection by God and that of violation by her (and finally God’s) enemies. In this case, the shame and anguish are heightened because her enemies have laughed at or celebrated her downfall. As is common with the laments/complaints of the Psalter, the celebrations and taunts of the enemy are particularly bitter to take.5

(3) Zion brings her lament and anguish directly to God. It is a dynamic worthy of careful attention. God has brought the shame and humiliation on her, but he is also the One to whom she turns in lamentation. It is almost as if she reminds God that her humiliation also means his loss as well. Her ridicule could become his as well. She can deny neither her failure nor her neediness. Her neediness is something that only God can fully grasp and only God can fully heal. One function of her lamentation is to give voice to her failures, so that God will recognize in her voice an indication of confession and an appeal for mercy.

It is important to remember that the “she” in this chapter is a corporate reference. Personified Zion is the people. Here we have finally an ecclesiology. God judges his people through their sin and suffering, and they offer their pain to the Lord.

Contemporary Significance

IN THE SUMMER OF 1999 John F. Kennedy Jr. died in a tragic airplane crash. Subsequent investigation concluded that he had likely miscalculated his navigational skills for night-time flight. He, his wife, and her sister were killed in the single plane crash. For American readers, JFK Jr. was close to royalty. With regard to his tragic death, one headline read: “The End of Camelot.” Adding to the grief was the fate of his father, President John Kennedy, himself a victim of tragedy when he was shot and killed in November 1963.

It all seemed so senseless. John Jr. was young, handsome, and rich. The public outpouring of grief, however, was out of proportion to what JFK Jr. had accomplished in life. This comment is not meant to denigrate his life but to illustrate the public persona that JFK Jr. had become. Tragically, an American prince had died. His name and family represented much in the realms of American public life and national identity, and with his demise came an end for some people in their way of perceiving American identity.

The demise of Jerusalem brought with it the end of certain ways of perceiving a relationship with the Lord. How difficult it was (and is!) to grasp meaning in the context of tragedy. Just as some could now ask, “What will life be like without the ideals represented by JFK Jr.?” so God’s ancient people asked, “What will life be like without Zion and Judah?” How difficult it is for God’s people to see themselves in light of their failures. They first must know that to be God’s people is a precious privilege, and then that it is possible for something to threaten that privilege so that they cannot take it for granted. Separation and exclusion from the family of God are painful. Shock is added to the pain with the subsequent recognition that failure has separated people from God in such a way that the rift cannot be healed from Daughter Zion’s side any more than it can be healed from the church’s side. It can only be healed from God’s side.

The subsequent history of Jerusalem demonstrates that God can restore what Judah’s failures had corrupted. In Jesus Christ the God who judged Jerusalem and worked through her destruction was himself judged. Christ bore the failures of the world as well as judged them. The poetry of Lamentations is one of the most articulate voices for confession of sin and lament over failure. The poems themselves point first to the consequences of failure; as tragedy they loom larger than life and seemingly out of proportion to the failure. But most important, they are directed to the only One who can hear them fully and adequately respond.