Interpret Lamentations?
- Thread starter Stope
- Start date
- Status
arapahoepark
Puritan Board Professor
Perhaps this is better stated, how does God address His people of which I am a part? A people facing his righteous judgment? A people doomed aside from His mercy? A people in exile awaiting His glorious New Jerusalem? A people who can declare in the depth of despair: great is your faithfulness!
Is there a specific reason why, in order to be devotional (?), each portion of Scripture must be read with ME as the subject?
May I identify with Jeremiah, the human author? May I weep with him over sin and its consequences? It certainly isn't a dispassionate investigation. I am a part of the consequences, and feel the effect of those consequences.
In terms of the covenant of works, I am a part of the whole human race that languishes under the judgment of God. In terms of the outward administration of the covenant of grace, I may be part of a church-in-decline, one which may have "Ichabod" written over it's door, or about to have it's lampstand removed.
Then, there's the fact that Jeremiah is himself a type of the Man of Sorrows. These words are above all Christ's words, as he weeps over the appalling results of sin, even sin that overtakes those who have had every advantage.
Then, there's the fact that no one ever suffered as Jesus suffered. The beauties of Jerusalem and the Temple are the beauties of him, of his Person and his body. The devastation Jerusalem undergoes is the punishment deserved; but it is only a pale illustration of the death of Christ--and his was fully undeserved. The wrath poured out on Jerusalem is insignificant (viewed from the highest level) compared to the wrath poured out on Jesus.
And yet, in the depths of his woe the Savior declares: "Great is thy faithfulness, O God my Father."
May I identify with Jeremiah, the human author? May I weep with him over sin and its consequences? It certainly isn't a dispassionate investigation. I am a part of the consequences, and feel the effect of those consequences.
In terms of the covenant of works, I am a part of the whole human race that languishes under the judgment of God. In terms of the outward administration of the covenant of grace, I may be part of a church-in-decline, one which may have "Ichabod" written over it's door, or about to have it's lampstand removed.
Then, there's the fact that Jeremiah is himself a type of the Man of Sorrows. These words are above all Christ's words, as he weeps over the appalling results of sin, even sin that overtakes those who have had every advantage.
Then, there's the fact that no one ever suffered as Jesus suffered. The beauties of Jerusalem and the Temple are the beauties of him, of his Person and his body. The devastation Jerusalem undergoes is the punishment deserved; but it is only a pale illustration of the death of Christ--and his was fully undeserved. The wrath poured out on Jerusalem is insignificant (viewed from the highest level) compared to the wrath poured out on Jesus.
And yet, in the depths of his woe the Savior declares: "Great is thy faithfulness, O God my Father."
Stope
Puritan Board Sophomore
What I simply mean is this:
Jeremiah was written to a certain people (different than me) in a certain situation (different than mine), and I want to know how to get the most i can from the teaching of the book, but since there is so much difference Im not so sure how to do that (hence the OP).
In other words, I can put it this way:
What does the nation of Israel falling from their covenant with God and physical exile in Babylon have to do with me an Christ today? What would the Lord have us learn here
Jeremiah was written to a certain people (different than me) in a certain situation (different than mine), and I want to know how to get the most i can from the teaching of the book, but since there is so much difference Im not so sure how to do that (hence the OP).
In other words, I can put it this way:
What does the nation of Israel falling from their covenant with God and physical exile in Babylon have to do with me an Christ today? What would the Lord have us learn here
Peairtach
Puritan Board Doctor
You are part of the same people. The NT Church is the Israel of God, and in this life the Invisible Church cannot be wholly divorced or distinguished from the Visible Church. Do we have nothing to mourn about respecting the state of the Visible Church/Israel/Covenant People today? Are there not plenty signs of "Babylonish captivity" for us to mourn over? Yes, plenty.
Sent from my C6903 using Tapatalk
Sent from my C6903 using Tapatalk
TylerRay
Puritan Board Graduate
Jason,
I think you may be asking for an overly simplistic way to address the text. The Lord does not intend for us to take the book as a devotional allegory where everything serves as an analogy for our lives.
The best thing you can do is to read the book in its context, draw out spiritual principles displayed in it, and apply them to your life.
I think you may be asking for an overly simplistic way to address the text. The Lord does not intend for us to take the book as a devotional allegory where everything serves as an analogy for our lives.
The best thing you can do is to read the book in its context, draw out spiritual principles displayed in it, and apply them to your life.
Stope
Puritan Board Sophomore
I follow you here brother... Let me ask you a question, and this will help me proceed amd apply your advice:
When you read the following, what are some things that you learn from it (other than history) and hoe God engaged with the People of Israel in a context that has nothing to do with you (with your being on this side of the New Covenant):
[3] Judah has gone into exile because of affliction
and hard servitude;
she dwells now among the nations,
but finds no resting place;
her pursuers have all overtaken her
in the midst of her distress.
(Lamentations 1:3 ESV)
arapahoepark
Puritan Board Professor
Can it not just be a historical event that points toward eschatological judgment; God's right and just wrath against those who reject their creator? Let it sink in how just is God's jealousy toward ANY idol in your heart if he was that way toward his own people.
Devotional enough for you?
Stope
Puritan Board Sophomore
You guys are silly. When I say "devotional", since Im a laymen and I dont know the proper word/phraseology, I simply just mean "what does that Old Covenant material have to do with me living in the New Covenant"...
Dumbed-down enough for you?
TylerRay
Puritan Board Graduate
We have here a display of the difficult affliction which the Lord used to chasten his people at that time--by delivering them over to exile and persecution among the nations. He chastens his people today in similar ways. The Church often experiences persecution among the nations as for this very reason.
We ought to pray for his mercy upon his church in our land, where we are liable to the same judgments because of our unfaithfulness; we can see the warning signs of possible future persecution here. It ought to lead us to repentance for our parts as individuals in the sins of the Church corporate.
Similarly, the Lord chastens us as individuals, sometimes removing temporal stability and well-being, so that we "find no resting place." If we find ourselves in this situation, we ought to repent of the sins that brought on such chastisement. If not, the text serves as a warning too keep our hearts with all diligence, lest we be chastised.
Ask Mr. Religion
Flatly Unflappable
Calvin on the passage is instructive here:
Interpreters apply this, but in my view improperly, to the captivity of the people; on the contrary, the Prophet means that the Jews had been scattered and sought refuges when oppressed, as they were often, by the tyranny of their enemies, and then by degrees he advances to their exile; for he could not have said all things at the same time. Let, then, the order in which he speaks be observed: before he bewails their exile, he says that Judah had been scattered; for many, fleeing the cruelty of enemies, went into voluntary exile. We have before seen that many concealed themselves with the Moabites; nor is there a doubt but that many went into Egypt: in short, there was no country in which some of the Jews were not fugitives.
The real meaning, then, of the Prophet here is, that the Jews had migrated, that is, had left their own country and fled to other countries, because they were subjected to miseries and cruel servitude.
Some take the words in a passive sense, even that Judah migrated, because they had inhumanly oppressed their servants. But I suspect what has led them astray, they thought that exile is meant here; and then one mistake produces another; for it would have been absurd to say, that the Jews had migrated into exile on account of affliction, and had migrated willingly; for we know that they were violently driven by the Chaldeans. They did not, then, willingly migrate. When these two things could not be connected, they thought that the cruelty of the Jews is what is referred to, which they had exercised towards their own brethren. But the migration of which the Prophet speaks is improperly applied, as I have said, to the captivity; but on the contrary, he means those who had removed into different parts of the world, because this was more tolerable than their condition in their own country. And we hence learn how severely they had been harassed by the Chaldeans, for they had willingly fled away, though, as we know, exile is hard. We then conclude that it was a barbarous and a violent oppression, since the Prophet says, that the Jews thus went into exile of their own accord, and sought hiding-places either in Egypt or in the land of Moab, or among other neighboring nations.
He afterwards adds another evil, that they never found rest; and lastly, that they had been taken by their enemies between straits, so that no escape was possible. It must have been a sad condition for the people to live in a foreign land; for we know that such a precarious life differs but little from death; and there were no contiguous nations by whom the Jews were not hated. When they then fled to such people, it was no small evil. But when they had nowhere a quiet abode, the indignity was still greater, and this is what the Prophet now refers to. But when we flee and tremblingly turn here and there, it is one of the greatest of evils to fall into the hands of enemies, and to be taken by them when we are enclosed as it were between two walls, or in a narrow passage, as some explain the word.
The real meaning, then, of the Prophet here is, that the Jews had migrated, that is, had left their own country and fled to other countries, because they were subjected to miseries and cruel servitude.
Some take the words in a passive sense, even that Judah migrated, because they had inhumanly oppressed their servants. But I suspect what has led them astray, they thought that exile is meant here; and then one mistake produces another; for it would have been absurd to say, that the Jews had migrated into exile on account of affliction, and had migrated willingly; for we know that they were violently driven by the Chaldeans. They did not, then, willingly migrate. When these two things could not be connected, they thought that the cruelty of the Jews is what is referred to, which they had exercised towards their own brethren. But the migration of which the Prophet speaks is improperly applied, as I have said, to the captivity; but on the contrary, he means those who had removed into different parts of the world, because this was more tolerable than their condition in their own country. And we hence learn how severely they had been harassed by the Chaldeans, for they had willingly fled away, though, as we know, exile is hard. We then conclude that it was a barbarous and a violent oppression, since the Prophet says, that the Jews thus went into exile of their own accord, and sought hiding-places either in Egypt or in the land of Moab, or among other neighboring nations.
He afterwards adds another evil, that they never found rest; and lastly, that they had been taken by their enemies between straits, so that no escape was possible. It must have been a sad condition for the people to live in a foreign land; for we know that such a precarious life differs but little from death; and there were no contiguous nations by whom the Jews were not hated. When they then fled to such people, it was no small evil. But when they had nowhere a quiet abode, the indignity was still greater, and this is what the Prophet now refers to. But when we flee and tremblingly turn here and there, it is one of the greatest of evils to fall into the hands of enemies, and to be taken by them when we are enclosed as it were between two walls, or in a narrow passage, as some explain the word.
Likewise, from Richard Brooks, Welwyn Commentary Series – Great is your faithfulness: The book of Lamentations simply explained, (Auburn, MA: Evangelical Press, pp. 15-19:
'How'. That is the opening word of the book of Lamentations. But it is not the 'how' of questioning ('How? How so? How can this be?') but the 'how' of surprise and agony ('How! How terrible! How awful a state of affairs!'). As Jeremiah reflected upon the fall of Jerusalem he was absolutely overwhelmed. The destruction of any city has some effect upon you. It is a familiar sight on television news pictures—buildings brought down to the ground or else perched in various half-collapsed precarious positions, roofs caved in, debris everywhere, and no signs of life to be seen. It all looks so poignant, so tragic, so desperate. It is difficult not to be moved, even though, as I say, the sight is so familiar now, that the danger arises of familiarity breeding contempt.
But when it is your own city, the place, maybe, where you were born or converted or married, a place of family background or childhood associations, a place of rich and fond memories, a place that for one reason or another you have in your heart—then it is a very different matter. Things take on a whole new perspective and weight of feeling.
The destruction of any city in Judah would have grieved Jeremiah, but the fact that it was Jerusalem—Zion, the city of God, chosen by Him to dwell in—well, that was, as they say, something else. Right from the start, therefore, the theme of the book is established: the terrible and unthinkable disaster that had overtaken the southern kingdom of Judah and its famous capital Jerusalem. It seemed to be the death of Jerusalem—an event which to many would have seemed as unlikely as that the sun should drop out of the heavens, for, surely, come what may, they thought, Jerusalem was exempt from all danger.
The tragedy is set before our eyes very vividly in these verses, and has as its main features an abandoned city, a deserted sanctuary and a sinful people.
An abandoned city
One stark image is piled upon another in verses 1-3 and the result is tremendously powerful.
The city is deserted (1:1). Once it had been bustling with life, full of people, throbbing, vibrant, colourful, as religious, business, commercial and family life flourished. It had not only its resident population, but was the city to which the tribes went up (Psalm 122:4) and was visited by great and small from all the nations. Yet now it has become like a 'ghost town'—a strange, quiet and empty place. 'How deserted lies the city, once so full of people!' The emphasis of the whole expression is one of solitariness, of being left completely on your own, abandoned on every side. Much later, a Roman coin was struck to commemorate the victory of Titus Vespasian over Jerusalem in A.D. 71, which represented the Emperor Vespasian on one side and, on the reverse, a woman (symbolizing Jerusalem, the daughter of Zion) sitting on the ground under a palm tree in a mournful attitude, surrounded by a heap of arms and shields. The inscription on the coin reads 'Judea capta' ('Judah taken'). That coin could equally well evoke the scene Jeremiah is recording here.
The city is bereaved (1:1). 'How like a widow is she, who once was great among the nations!' How eloquent bereavement is of sadness, loneliness and despair. Cities have traditionally been described as the mothers of their inhabitants, with the king as the husband and the princes as children. Once the king is gone, the city is widowed and orphaned. Furthermore, the condition of the Eastern widow is a pitiable one: her hair is cut short, she casts aside all her ornaments, eats coarse food, fasts and is considered all but an outcast in her late husband's family. So this image of the widow would have struck an immediate chord in Jewish minds. All Jerusalem's literal husbands and children have gone; all her life has expired. Behind this lies the rich biblical imagery of God as the Husband of His people ('For your Maker is your husband', Isaiah 54:5), but Jerusalem no longer enjoys the presence of her Husband. The sense of the presence of God with them, of God delighting in His people—all the raptures of fellowship with the living God are currently things of the past, though the little word 'like' (or 'as') 'a widow' implies that Jerusalem has not lost her Husband utterly and for ever, but is only parted from Him for a period. There is in that one word a foreshadowing of reunion.
The city is subjected (1:1). One moment she was 'great among the nations'. Time was when Judah was ruler of countries like Moab and Edom. They and others were her vassals. She was either greatly loved or greatly feared. Nations took notice of her. Some gave her presents and some paid taxes to her, especially during the flourishing period of the Jewish kingdom under Kings David and Solomon. But things are different now. The 'queen among the provinces has now become a slave'. Matthew Henry remarks, 'But now the tables are turned; she has not only lost her friend and sits solitary, but has lost her freedom too and sits tributary; she paid tribute to Egypt first and then to Babylon.'
The city is emptied of all joy (1:2), having been deserted and left comfortless, without a friend in the world. 'While others are deriving refreshment of body and mind from their sleep, Jerusalem is wide awake, crying and sobbing with grief, harassed by the prospect of nocturnal terrors, and deprived of all human comfort.' The night-time weeping does not, of course, exclude weeping during the daytime as well. But night is mentioned because (don't we know it?) that is the time when grief and sorrow tend to be felt at their heaviest and drive sleep far away.
Who are 'her lovers'? The description refers to nations with whom Jerusalem made alliances, 'the human support on which Jerusalem foolishly and presumptuously believed she could rely, especially all those nations whose friendship she had so often preferred, instead of trusting in Jehovah'. As such it would embrace the likes of Egypt, Edom, Moab, Ammon, Phoenicia, Tyre and Sidon. But where are they now? 'Among all her lovers there is none to comfort her. All her friends have betrayed her; they have become her enemies.'
There is an awful irony built in here. Not only had her former lovers and friends abandoned her, but some had even sided with Babylon in assaulting her. It is the way of the world. Jerusalem was described in Psalm 48:2 as 'the joy of the whole earth', but now her joy has been turned into lamentation and mourning. We are reminded of Jeremiah's own expressive lament: 'Oh, that my head were a spring of water and my eyes a fountain of tears! I would weep day and night for the slain of my people' (Jeremiah 9:1). Verse 2 opens with (literally) 'weeping she weeps'. This verbal form accords with the phrase 'Tears are upon her cheeks.' This is not past grief that has been got over and which time has healed, but present grief, present bitterness, present agony, present heartache which is continually drawing forth fresh tears which are running down her cheeks. Her whole face is never free from them (cf. Jeremiah 9:18-19). In this verse, Jeremiah's lament over Jerusalem becomes also very much Jerusalem's lament for herself. Yet she can neither comfort herself nor are there any to comfort her. And surely there is here an indirect reference to the loss of the Comforter.
Just reflect on something here. How welcome and appropriate it is, whenever we are burdened with grief, to have friends drawing alongside us with whom we can share our sorrows, and who will weep with us and apply the consolations of God's Word to us (meditate upon 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 in this connection). But when we are as Jerusalem became, with no friends supporting us any longer, when no one feels for us and, worst of all, when those we thought were our friends, who once courted us and who gave us the impression that they would stand by us at all times and never let us down, abandon us and do indeed let us down—then our sorrow and sadness become much more grievous and heavy to bear. But take heart, believer; we have one Friend 'who sticks closer than a brother' (Proverbs 18:24). The Lord Jesus Christ is the believer's Friend, and He is 'the same yesterday and today and for ever' (Hebrews 13:8).
But Oh, my friend!
My friend indeed,
Who at my need
His life did spend!
(Samuel Crossman).
Rejoice in this friendship. Do not grieve Him, and remember that 'Anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God' (James 4:4).
The city is exiled (1:3) in the land of her enemies who neither know God nor care anything about him. The nation that once was separated from the heathen now dwells among them. The sombreness of 'Judah has gone into exile' can be felt. Judah stands here, of course, for the population not merely of the city of Jerusalem but of the whole kingdom. God's people are a special people, a distinctive people, a holy people; but now they are mingled among those who worship idols, those who are 'excluded from citizenship in Israel and foreigners to the covenants of the promise, without hope and without God in the world' (Ephesians 2:12).
It seems that the impossible has happened. And, not surprisingly, 'she finds no resting place'— no joys, no consolations, no sense of being at home, no blessed assurance of the favours of God. All is exactly as Moses predicted: 'Then the Lord will scatter you among all nations, from one end of the earth to the other. There you will worship other gods—gods of wood and stone, which neither you nor your fathers have known. Among those nations you will find no repose, no resting place for the sole of your feet. There the Lord will give you an anxious mind, eyes weary with longing, and a despairing heart. You will live in constant suspense, filled with dread both night and day, never sure of your life' (Deuteronomy 28:64-66).
The word for 'distress', at the end of verse 3, has the sense of 'straits' or 'extremities'—narrow places from which escape is impossible, or circumstances of life from which no escape can be found. (Compare David's testimony in Psalm 116:3.) What a contrast, too, between the lovers and friends of verse 2 and the pursuers of verse 3. Judah and Jerusalem had become a sitting duck, a target for all her enemies.
But when it is your own city, the place, maybe, where you were born or converted or married, a place of family background or childhood associations, a place of rich and fond memories, a place that for one reason or another you have in your heart—then it is a very different matter. Things take on a whole new perspective and weight of feeling.
The destruction of any city in Judah would have grieved Jeremiah, but the fact that it was Jerusalem—Zion, the city of God, chosen by Him to dwell in—well, that was, as they say, something else. Right from the start, therefore, the theme of the book is established: the terrible and unthinkable disaster that had overtaken the southern kingdom of Judah and its famous capital Jerusalem. It seemed to be the death of Jerusalem—an event which to many would have seemed as unlikely as that the sun should drop out of the heavens, for, surely, come what may, they thought, Jerusalem was exempt from all danger.
The tragedy is set before our eyes very vividly in these verses, and has as its main features an abandoned city, a deserted sanctuary and a sinful people.
An abandoned city
One stark image is piled upon another in verses 1-3 and the result is tremendously powerful.
The city is deserted (1:1). Once it had been bustling with life, full of people, throbbing, vibrant, colourful, as religious, business, commercial and family life flourished. It had not only its resident population, but was the city to which the tribes went up (Psalm 122:4) and was visited by great and small from all the nations. Yet now it has become like a 'ghost town'—a strange, quiet and empty place. 'How deserted lies the city, once so full of people!' The emphasis of the whole expression is one of solitariness, of being left completely on your own, abandoned on every side. Much later, a Roman coin was struck to commemorate the victory of Titus Vespasian over Jerusalem in A.D. 71, which represented the Emperor Vespasian on one side and, on the reverse, a woman (symbolizing Jerusalem, the daughter of Zion) sitting on the ground under a palm tree in a mournful attitude, surrounded by a heap of arms and shields. The inscription on the coin reads 'Judea capta' ('Judah taken'). That coin could equally well evoke the scene Jeremiah is recording here.
The city is bereaved (1:1). 'How like a widow is she, who once was great among the nations!' How eloquent bereavement is of sadness, loneliness and despair. Cities have traditionally been described as the mothers of their inhabitants, with the king as the husband and the princes as children. Once the king is gone, the city is widowed and orphaned. Furthermore, the condition of the Eastern widow is a pitiable one: her hair is cut short, she casts aside all her ornaments, eats coarse food, fasts and is considered all but an outcast in her late husband's family. So this image of the widow would have struck an immediate chord in Jewish minds. All Jerusalem's literal husbands and children have gone; all her life has expired. Behind this lies the rich biblical imagery of God as the Husband of His people ('For your Maker is your husband', Isaiah 54:5), but Jerusalem no longer enjoys the presence of her Husband. The sense of the presence of God with them, of God delighting in His people—all the raptures of fellowship with the living God are currently things of the past, though the little word 'like' (or 'as') 'a widow' implies that Jerusalem has not lost her Husband utterly and for ever, but is only parted from Him for a period. There is in that one word a foreshadowing of reunion.
The city is subjected (1:1). One moment she was 'great among the nations'. Time was when Judah was ruler of countries like Moab and Edom. They and others were her vassals. She was either greatly loved or greatly feared. Nations took notice of her. Some gave her presents and some paid taxes to her, especially during the flourishing period of the Jewish kingdom under Kings David and Solomon. But things are different now. The 'queen among the provinces has now become a slave'. Matthew Henry remarks, 'But now the tables are turned; she has not only lost her friend and sits solitary, but has lost her freedom too and sits tributary; she paid tribute to Egypt first and then to Babylon.'
The city is emptied of all joy (1:2), having been deserted and left comfortless, without a friend in the world. 'While others are deriving refreshment of body and mind from their sleep, Jerusalem is wide awake, crying and sobbing with grief, harassed by the prospect of nocturnal terrors, and deprived of all human comfort.' The night-time weeping does not, of course, exclude weeping during the daytime as well. But night is mentioned because (don't we know it?) that is the time when grief and sorrow tend to be felt at their heaviest and drive sleep far away.
Who are 'her lovers'? The description refers to nations with whom Jerusalem made alliances, 'the human support on which Jerusalem foolishly and presumptuously believed she could rely, especially all those nations whose friendship she had so often preferred, instead of trusting in Jehovah'. As such it would embrace the likes of Egypt, Edom, Moab, Ammon, Phoenicia, Tyre and Sidon. But where are they now? 'Among all her lovers there is none to comfort her. All her friends have betrayed her; they have become her enemies.'
There is an awful irony built in here. Not only had her former lovers and friends abandoned her, but some had even sided with Babylon in assaulting her. It is the way of the world. Jerusalem was described in Psalm 48:2 as 'the joy of the whole earth', but now her joy has been turned into lamentation and mourning. We are reminded of Jeremiah's own expressive lament: 'Oh, that my head were a spring of water and my eyes a fountain of tears! I would weep day and night for the slain of my people' (Jeremiah 9:1). Verse 2 opens with (literally) 'weeping she weeps'. This verbal form accords with the phrase 'Tears are upon her cheeks.' This is not past grief that has been got over and which time has healed, but present grief, present bitterness, present agony, present heartache which is continually drawing forth fresh tears which are running down her cheeks. Her whole face is never free from them (cf. Jeremiah 9:18-19). In this verse, Jeremiah's lament over Jerusalem becomes also very much Jerusalem's lament for herself. Yet she can neither comfort herself nor are there any to comfort her. And surely there is here an indirect reference to the loss of the Comforter.
Just reflect on something here. How welcome and appropriate it is, whenever we are burdened with grief, to have friends drawing alongside us with whom we can share our sorrows, and who will weep with us and apply the consolations of God's Word to us (meditate upon 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 in this connection). But when we are as Jerusalem became, with no friends supporting us any longer, when no one feels for us and, worst of all, when those we thought were our friends, who once courted us and who gave us the impression that they would stand by us at all times and never let us down, abandon us and do indeed let us down—then our sorrow and sadness become much more grievous and heavy to bear. But take heart, believer; we have one Friend 'who sticks closer than a brother' (Proverbs 18:24). The Lord Jesus Christ is the believer's Friend, and He is 'the same yesterday and today and for ever' (Hebrews 13:8).
But Oh, my friend!
My friend indeed,
Who at my need
His life did spend!
(Samuel Crossman).
Rejoice in this friendship. Do not grieve Him, and remember that 'Anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God' (James 4:4).
The city is exiled (1:3) in the land of her enemies who neither know God nor care anything about him. The nation that once was separated from the heathen now dwells among them. The sombreness of 'Judah has gone into exile' can be felt. Judah stands here, of course, for the population not merely of the city of Jerusalem but of the whole kingdom. God's people are a special people, a distinctive people, a holy people; but now they are mingled among those who worship idols, those who are 'excluded from citizenship in Israel and foreigners to the covenants of the promise, without hope and without God in the world' (Ephesians 2:12).
It seems that the impossible has happened. And, not surprisingly, 'she finds no resting place'— no joys, no consolations, no sense of being at home, no blessed assurance of the favours of God. All is exactly as Moses predicted: 'Then the Lord will scatter you among all nations, from one end of the earth to the other. There you will worship other gods—gods of wood and stone, which neither you nor your fathers have known. Among those nations you will find no repose, no resting place for the sole of your feet. There the Lord will give you an anxious mind, eyes weary with longing, and a despairing heart. You will live in constant suspense, filled with dread both night and day, never sure of your life' (Deuteronomy 28:64-66).
The word for 'distress', at the end of verse 3, has the sense of 'straits' or 'extremities'—narrow places from which escape is impossible, or circumstances of life from which no escape can be found. (Compare David's testimony in Psalm 116:3.) What a contrast, too, between the lovers and friends of verse 2 and the pursuers of verse 3. Judah and Jerusalem had become a sitting duck, a target for all her enemies.
Much devotional gold therein. We should never give ourselves over to the idea that there are things in Scripture that are irrelevant to us. It is not ourselves that makes Scripture relevant, for Scripture is inherently relevant else God would not have said it and had it recorded.
- Status
Similar threads
