Worship Washed In Tears: A Look At Lamentations

The resolute queen sits among the ruins as she looks to the side with a mournful gaze. Her crown and the remnants of her throne display a regal air, yet her eyes remain despondent and unmoving. This queen, forever encased in marble by William Wetmore Story, is the sculpture of “Jerusalem in Her Desolation.” For in 587 BC, Jerusalem finally fell to the Babylonians after Nebuchadnezzar’s lengthy siege. His armies destroyed that holy city and carried off her captives. Thus, the marble city weeps, benumbed by grief with only crumbled bits of mortar at her feet to reveal her former flourishing.

The Old Testament book of Lamentations was written by the prophet Jeremiah soon after Judah’s exile to Babylon. To lament means to weep and wail in a time of mourning and describes a believer’s complaint to God when life goes wrong. This book begins with the solitary plea of “How?” (Lamentations 1:1; see 2:1; 4:1). “How could you bring such devastation upon us? How could you cause your people to suffer? Lord, how can you turn away as your holy city weeps in anguish?” Many might wonder, of course, why anyone would study a book that makes us sad. Isn’t God’s Word supposed to lift our spirits? Shouldn’t worship lead to joyful praise? Yet lament, however neglected, is still a form of worship. In fact, Jewish worshipers would customarily read this book in mid-July to commemorate the temple.

Lamentations’ vital role in Jewish worship was due in part to its exquisitely crafted poetry both in form and feeling. Each of the five chapters in this book is a multiple of twenty-two—the number of letters in the Hebrew alphabet. These then are acrostic poems in which each verse begins with a successive letter of the alphabet to express the totality of sorrow from aleph to tau. Some might think this artificial to constrain such passionate emotions within a poetic structure, but Lamentations does for us what poetry should. It helps us to explore our grief in full, but not forever. An acrostic reminds us that there’s an end to sorrow as we approach X, Y, and Z. Yet an acrostic also requires that we mourn completely, instead of stopping too soon at Q. Poetic structure functions like the banks of a raging river, giving form to our feelings and guidance to our grief. Riverbanks serve to channel our emotions, so they do not flood every which way and dissipate without purpose. God means for the water of our tears to irrigate good soil and produce a future harvest. In this way, poetry directs our hearts—not away from God, but toward him.

To complement its structure, the poem’s meter follows the limping rhythm of an ancient funeral dirge (e.g., Isaiah 14; Ezekiel 27). The halting effect resembles pallbearers trying to shoulder a heavy coffin and disrupts our life of ease. It jars us like the sound of chords in the minor key which call us into somber worship. Such lamentations, like the eulogy at a funeral, are filled with pathos, yet composed with care—rife with raw emotion, yet written down on paper. The artistry displays a studied reflection on the nature of suffering (Ecclesiastes 7:4). For lament does not merely express our sadness, but also God’s faithful presence in a broken world.

The prophet’s lament instructs us to think rightly about suffering—to craft a Godward view of grief and loss. This practice is vital for our worship as it leads us to a place of hope and healing when we lose our loved ones or experience failing health ourselves. Many of us have suffered broken relationships or difficult marriages. We have seen conflicts arise and secret sins given freedom to destroy. Our city, our nation, our world—like Jerusalem—weeps in desolation. Yet all too often, we fail to fully grasp God’s purpose in our suffering. We race ahead without reflecting on our sorrows. Whatever our particular losses, though, our path to healing begins when we lament before a loving God. Spiritual recovery and restoration do not happen by chance. So, let us enter the sorrows of ancient Jerusalem and learn from Jeremiah how to lament our losses. It might hurt a bit, but we will end each time of reflection with our hope renewed.

Application: This week, try writing your own lament based on the pattern we find in Scripture.

1. Cry Out – Turn to God in prayer: “How long, O LORD?” (Psalm 13:1a).

2. Complain – Honestly express your particular struggle to the Lord: “Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?” (vv. 1b-2).

3. Call Upon – Ask the Lord to act in specific ways which fit his character and resolve your complaint: “Consider and answer me, O LORD my God; light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death, lest my enemy say, ‘I have prevailed over him,’ lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken” (vv. 3-4).

4. Commit – Affirm God’s worthiness to be trusted as you choose to praise him: “But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, because he has dealt bountifully with me” (vv. 5-6).