Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is done unto me, whom Jehovah hath afflicted in the day of his fierce anger.
Jerusalem lies in ruins, and the ruined city speaks. She calls out to travellers on the road to stop and look at her. Two questions sit inside that cry: whose sorrow is this, and whose hand caused it?
Who is speaking here? It is not Jeremiah in his own voice.
Then the prophet personifies the downtrodden Zion turning to the passing strangers for their pity.
The plea for pity is not a claim of innocence. It sits inside a book about God's compassion for the people He Himself is striking.
This book shows the compassion and interest God has in the sufferings of His people. That compassion does not grow less even when He Himself brought the suffering on them because of their sins. It is said of the Lord that "in all their affliction He was afflicted" (Isaiah 63:9), and this showed when the Lord was on earth and wept over Jerusalem... Jeremiah appealed to those passing by: could they see such sorrow — an affliction Jehovah sent in His fierce wrath — and stay unmoved? Then he adds that Jehovah was righteous in all this, because they had rebelled against His commandments.
The ruins are not God's last word about Zion.
The verse asks the passer-by who sees the ruins of Zion to look at the desolation. Then he must consider this: the Lord in His righteous anger struck her, and she is still His beloved.
Many readers hear these words as the voice of Christ on the cross. One writer weighs that, and divides what the verse means from what it can illustrate.
People ask whether this scripture describes the Lord's sufferings on the cross. Look even briefly at the chapter, and at the repeated names Judah, Zion, and Jerusalem. They show what the Spirit of God had in view when He spoke through Jeremiah. It was not the cross. It was the devastating judgment He was about to pour out on the holy city through Nebuchadnezzar... This, in our judgment, is the interpretation of this scripture. But once you hold that fast, you may often apply the words in other directions too, and with profit. So it is true that no sorrow ever was, or ever could be, like the sorrow of our blessed Lord and Saviour, both in the garden of Gethsemane and on the cross.
When writers move from Jerusalem to Christ, the point they press is not the size of the grief but the reason for it.
The sins of Judah drew that fierce anger down on their heads. It was the just repayment for their turning away from the Lord. But He, the holy Sufferer of Calvary, bowed His head under the overwhelming flood of God's wrath for sins that were not His own. He who knew no sin was made sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.
Jerusalem asked strangers to look and understand. When the same words speak of Christ, even the people closest to Him could not.
Though a few clung to Him, in the depths of His sorrow He was truly alone. They little knew the sorrow that was breaking His heart. Even when told of the inevitable cross (through His grace), they could not receive it. The sources of His sorrow were beyond their knowing, although the prophet had declared it.
The verse speaks to people who are only passing through. One preacher turns its question on the reader.
How many times have you heard this story of the cross of Jesus? In His wonderful love He went there and died for you. He suffered all these insults from men, and He bore the judgment of a righteous and holy God. How many times have you heard it? Let me ask you, have you got used to it? Have you got so used to listening to this story that it means nothing to you?
- Who speaks — Zion herself. The ruined city turns to strangers on the road and begs for pity.
- Who struck — Zion traces her ruin to God's own hand, and admits He was righteous in it, because she had rebelled.
- Still loved — the anger was real and just, yet the city under it is still His beloved. His compassion does not shrink because He sent the blow.
- Two readings — the plain sense is Jerusalem's fall to Babylon. Reading the verse of Christ's sorrow is an application, not the interpretation — though writers differ on where to put the weight.
- The unequalled sorrow — Judah suffered for her own sins. Christ suffered for sins that were not His own, and He suffered alone, in a grief those closest to Him could not measure. So the question "is it nothing to you?" still lands on anyone who has grown used to the story.
From on high hath he sent fire into my bones, and it prevaileth against them; he hath spread a net for my feet; he hath turned me back; he hath made me desolate [and] faint all the day.
Here Zion speaks for herself, and she names God — not Babylon — as the one who sent the fire, spread the net, and left her faint. Two questions follow: whose hand lies behind such ruin, and whose voice can say these words?
One writer describes that appeal, and then says where the whole sorrow is traced:
Then the prophet personifies the downtrodden Zion turning to the passing strangers for their pity… Still all is traced to Jehovah's dealing because of Jerusalem's rebellious sins; and so He is morally vindicated.
She does not protest her innocence. Another writer sums up her posture:
Forsaken, uncomforted, distressed, humiliated, sighing and crying, owning her rebellion, vindicating Jehovah and His righteousness, Jerusalem sits in the dust.
The fire comes from on high, so the hand behind it is not an enemy's. One writer shows what that does both to God and to the prophet:
He who had to chastise His people is still moved with compassion for them. In their affliction He Himself is afflicted, and He yearns over them. Nothing moves the heart more deeply than the certainty that God loves the one He is afflicting. He loves what He must strike, and He must strike what He loves. The prophet lays open the affliction of Jerusalem, and he admits that the people's own sin caused it. Could that lessen the sorrow of his heart? If on one hand it was a consolation, on the other it humbled him and made him hide his face.
That knowledge does not dry the tears:
Grief is no less over God's people because they have dishonoured God and He justly chastens them.
Readers have long asked whether this lament describes the cross. One writer answers by pointing to the names that fill the chapter:
Some ask whether this scripture describes the Lord's sufferings on the cross. Even a quick look at the chapter, and at the repeated names Judah, Zion, and Jerusalem, will show the answer. What the Spirit of God had in view in speaking through Jeremiah was not the cross. It was the devastating judgments God was about to pour out on the holy city through Nebuchadnezzar… That, in our judgment, is the interpretation of this scripture. But once we hold that fast, we may often apply it in other directions, and with profit.
Other writers take up that application. One of them looks at Christ and speaks for the redeemed:
In the joy of assured redemption we can look up into His face, once marred more than any man's, and cry from full hearts, "Yes, Lord, it is something, it is everything to me, that You suffered and died!"
The same writer draws out what that suffering secured for others:
"Fire from above" came down on Him so that we might find a refuge where the fire has already been, and so be forever safe from the eternal fire to come for all who reject His matchless grace.
But the application has a limit, and it begins with the very next verse:
Not in the same sense could the next two verses be applied to the Lord Jesus. Those verses carry the consciousness of guilt, and He was the guiltless One. But the words were entirely fitting in the mouth of the people of Judah.
A cry like this is not the end of the book:
In Lamentations we get the sympathy and entering in of the Spirit of Christ into the sorrows of Israel, especially of the remnant; and so the hope of restoration.
The same writer shows what the sufferer learns from the striking hand:
He begins to feel that, after all, it is better to deal with Jehovah… He feels that it is good to be afflicted, and to wait on Jehovah who strikes. For He will not cast off for ever. He does not afflict willingly, but because He must.
- Whose hand. Zion does not blame Babylon. She traces every blow to God's own dealing, and that honesty vindicates Him.
- Whose love. The hand that strikes is the hand that loves. He must strike what He loves, and that is what makes the wound so deep.
- Whose ruin. The verse first means the ruin of Jerusalem for her sins. Writers hold to that meaning, and then allow other applications on top of it.
- Whose voice. Applied to Christ, the fire falls on Him, so sinners can shelter where the fire has already been. But the guilt confessed in the next verses is Judah's, never His.
- Whose future. The lament ends in hope. It is good to be afflicted, and to wait for the One who strikes. He does not afflict willingly, and He will not cast off for ever.
The yoke of my transgressions is bound by his hand they are wreathed, they are come up upon my neck; he hath made my strength to fail; the Lord hath delivered me into hands out of which I am not able to rise up.
Babylon's armies have broken through, and Jerusalem speaks for herself here. She does not blame her conquerors. She points to God's own hand. Two questions follow: whose hand really did this, and does a city that admits this much guilt have anything left to hope for?
Some read these verses as a picture of the sufferings of Christ. One writer checks that against the chapter itself and finds a different subject:
Look at the chapter even briefly, and at the repeated names Judah, Zion, and Jerusalem. They show what the Spirit of God had in view when He spoke through Jeremiah. It was not the cross. It was the devastating judgments about to fall on the holy city through Nebuchadnezzar. God had borne the grave sins and rebellion of His people with much patience. But as the last chapter of Jeremiah shows, wrath without remedy was what they received in the end.
Yet the same writer leaves room to use these verses of Christ in another way:
That, in our judgment, is the interpretation of this scripture. But once that is held firmly, you can often apply it in other directions, and with profit... So there is no difficulty in using the passage in Lamentations as an illustration of our Lord's sufferings.
Readers have long applied the sorrow of the earlier verses to the Lord Jesus. One commentator explains why this verse is different:
We cannot apply the next two verses to the Lord Jesus in the same sense. They carry the consciousness of guilt, and He was the guiltless One. But the words fit the mouth of the people of Judah perfectly. They confess that the yoke of their transgressions is bound by His hand. Like a wreath they are twined about the neck. Because of this, their strength failed. They could not free themselves from their enemies' hands.
Her sins are not just punished. They are twisted together into the harness that holds her down, and she has no strength to throw it off.
The verse names God as the one who bound the yoke and the one who handed her over. Reading the whole passage, one commentator draws out what that admission accomplishes:
Still, everything goes back to Jehovah's dealing, because of Jerusalem's rebellious sins. So He is shown to be in the right.
God's providence rules every nation. With Israel and Jerusalem He did something more:
You must keep in mind the special place of Israel and Jerusalem. Otherwise you can never appreciate a book like this, or many of the Psalms, or much of the Prophets... Providence governs everywhere... But in His own land and among His own people He had set up a direct government. From Samuel's days the power of kings shaped it, and it guaranteed blessing on obedience. But who could guarantee the obedience? Israel pledged it indeed, but in vain. The people disobeyed, the priests disobeyed, the kings disobeyed.
If God fastens a nation's sins on its neck, why is the nation not destroyed? One writer traces the answer to Christ's atoning work:
Israel was the scene of God's righteous government. Indignation and wrath were coming on them in that way... But if Christ had not made atonement, indignation and wrath could not have come as correction that teaches for good. It would have had to be condemnation... God could deal out judgment as government because of the atonement.
Jerusalem says the right thing. She owns the yoke as hers. But honest confession, on its own, does not change the future:
She acknowledges her sin before the Lord, and what it has brought on her. Right was it for her to do this. She speaks like this of the past. But what of the future? Owning your guilt, and owning that the Lord is just in how He deals with a soul, cannot by itself give hope of better times or renewed prosperity ahead.
Hope arrives only when the survivors ask why the yoke did not crush them outright. The same writer finds the answer in what God is, not in what they have said:
The city was desolate and the nation's trials were great, yet they were not consumed... They deserved to be swept off the earth, but God in mercy had come in. "It is of the Lord's mercy we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not." His justice required that they receive the judgment they deserved. But His mercy gave hope for the future, and they themselves were living proof of that mercy.
(That line quotes Lamentations 3:22 in older wording. The ESV reads, "The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end.")
- Sin binds. The yoke is not something foreign. It is her own sins twisted together and laid on her neck.
- God ties it. She names His hand, not Babylon's, as the cause — and in saying so she clears Him instead of accusing Him.
- Strength fails. Her strength is gone. She cannot pull herself free from the hands God gave her into.
- Wrath teaches. Because Christ made atonement, this weight came as correction, not final condemnation.
- Mercy frees. Owning the guilt settles the past but opens no future; only that they were not consumed, and that His compassions do not fail, gives one.
The Lord hath cast down all my mighty men in the midst of me; he hath called an assembly against me to crush my young men; the Lord hath trodden as a winepress the virgin daughter of Judah.
Jerusalem lies in ruins, and this verse names the one who ruined her: not Babylon, but the Lord. That raises a hard question — how can a God who loves His people be the one treading them down?
These words are a confession. Judah does not call God unfair. She traces every blow back to Him and owns why it fell. One writer explains why these words fit Judah, and why they cannot be Christ's own:
The next two verses could not be applied to the Lord Jesus in the same sense. They involve the awareness of guilt, and He was the guiltless One; but the words fitted perfectly in the mouth of the people of Judah. They confess that the yoke of their transgressions is bound by His hand. Like a wreath they are twined about the neck. Because of this their strength failed, and they could not deliver themselves out of their enemies' hands. It was the Lord Himself who had destroyed their mighty men and summoned the Chaldeans for their ruin. As grapes are trodden in a winepress, so had He cast the daughter of Judah into the press of His wrath because of her many transgressions.
So the assembly God called against her was an army: the Chaldeans, the invading soldiers of Babylon. They did the damage, but God issued the summons. And the yoke that bound her was her own sin, which is why her strength failed and she could not save herself.
Many readers have taken this whole lament as a picture of the cross. One writer answers that the names repeated through the chapter settle the question, though he still leaves room for a second use:
It is asked whether this scripture describes the Lord's sufferings on the cross. The slightest look at the chapter, and the repeated names Judah, Zion, and Jerusalem, will show what the Spirit of God had in view in speaking through Jeremiah. It was not the cross, but the devastating judgments about to fall on the holy city through Nebuchadnezzar. God had borne with much patience the grievous sins and rebellion of His people. But, as the last chapter of Jeremiah shows, wrath without remedy was their portion in the end. Such, in our judgment, is the interpretation of this scripture. Yet if we hold this fast, we may often apply the passage in other directions, and with profit.
Commentators differ in emphasis. Ironside applies the earlier verses of this lament to Christ's sufferings, but draws the line at verses 14 and 15.
This is not a measured correction. A winepress crushes every grape and leaves nothing behind. One commentator explains the force of this image where it appears again in Revelation:
There is no mercy, no separating judgment, but absolute vengeance. The winepress signifies this. It is the day of vengeance of our God.
That is why the verse names Judah's strongest men and her youngest in one breath. The press took her strength and her future together.
Knowing the sin behind the sorrow did not dry Jeremiah's tears; it deepened them. One writer describes what it does to a heart to watch God strike the very people He loves:
Nothing moves the heart more than this conviction: God loves the one who is suffering. He loves what He must strike, and He must strike what He loves. The prophet lays open the affliction of Jerusalem, and he admits that the sin of the people had caused it. Could that lessen the sorrow of his heart? If on one hand it was a consolation, on the other it humbled him and made him hide his face.
That God's own hand did this is the heaviest word in the lament — and its one ground of hope. One writer finds comfort in the very fact that grieves him:
Sorrowful, most sorrowful, that His hand had done it all. Yet it is a comfort to faith, for it is the hand that can and will build up again for His name's sake. Nor was this a sudden chastening. From the earliest days the Lord had warned and foretold through Moses what Jeremiah spells out in his Lamentations.
- Summoned. The army that crushed Judah's young men came at God's call. He gathered the assembly against His own city.
- Deserved. Judah speaks this verse as confession, not complaint. Its awareness of guilt is why it cannot be the language of the guiltless One.
- Crushed. The winepress means judgment with no mercy and no exceptions. It spared neither the strong nor the young.
- Loved. God struck what He loves because He had to. That conviction comforted the prophet and made him hide his face.
- Rebuilt. The hand that did this was His, not Babylon's. So hope remains: the hand that tore down can build again for His name's sake.
For these things I weep; mine eye, mine eye runneth down with water for the comforter that should revive my soul is far from me; my children are desolate, for the enemy hath prevailed.
In Lamentations 1 the prophet grieves over a ruined Jerusalem. At verse 16 the grief breaks into open weeping, because no comforter is left. Three questions follow. Why is there no comfort? Who stood behind the enemy's victory? Does God feel any of it?
The weeping here is not a first reaction to bad news. One writer points out that the prophet had already wept over these events before they happened.
Because of these things the prophet weeps, as he had already wept before they happened, when he foretold them. There is no comforter; for Judah's children are desolate. Zion spreads out her hands, but there is no helper, nor anyone to sympathise.
The comforter who is far off is the one who should revive her soul. One writer sets that loss beside the comfort God has promised to bring.
The history of God's people on earth shows plainly what happened as they turned their backs on God. They came into a lonely, comfortless condition. "How lonely sits the city that was full of people! … she has none to comfort her" (Lamentations 1:1-2). "The comforter that should relieve (or revive) my soul is far from me" (v. 16). To this day they remain deprived and without comfort. But Isaiah, Zechariah and other Scriptures show that God has "good and comfortable words" in view for them. When their "day of salvation" (Isaiah 49) has come, brought by the "beautiful … feet of Him … that announces salvation" (Isaiah 52), then they will "break forth into joy," singing "the Lord has comforted His people, He has redeemed Jerusalem."
The older translation reads "relieve"; the ESV has "one to revive my spirit."
The verse ends with the enemy prevailing. One writer looks past the enemy to the hand behind him.
All still traces back to Jehovah's dealing with Jerusalem for her rebellious sins; and so He is morally vindicated.
If the suffering was deserved, why weep at all? One writer answers that the prophet knew the cause and still wept.
Nothing moves the heart more deeply than the conviction that God loves the one He afflicts. He loves what He must strike, and He must strike what He loves. As the prophet lays open Jerusalem's affliction, he admits that the people's own sin had caused it. Could that lessen the sorrow of his heart? It comforted him on one side; on the other it humbled him and made him hide his face.
The comforter is far off. One writer turns to what God Himself felt about the affliction.
When Israel suffered in Egypt the Lord said, "I have surely seen the affliction of My people" (Exodus 3:7). Lamentations shows the same blessed fact: Jehovah takes a loving, deep interest in the afflictions His people pass through because of their sins. He had to chastise His people, yet He is still moved with compassion for them. Yes, in their affliction He Himself is afflicted and He yearns over them. The Spirit of Christ produced those deep feelings of sorrow and humiliation in the prophet's heart, and Jeremiah, Jehovah's mouthpiece, gave them words.
One writer places these tears beside a later weeping over the same city.
Again the prophet breaks out in weeping; his eyes flow with tears. The desolation and judgment that have come affect him deeply. But centuries later One greater than Jeremiah stood before the same city, now restored from the ruin of Jeremiah's time. And as He looked at that city He wept, because His all-seeing eye saw a still more dreadful judgment for city and nation.
- Cause. The enemy prevailed, yet everything traces back to God's own dealing with Jerusalem for her rebellion. He is shown to be right; the enemy is not the real explanation.
- Cost. The comforter who should revive her soul is far off. The city that turned from God found no one to comfort her.
- Compassion. Even while He strikes, God is afflicted in their affliction. He loves what He must strike.
- Consistency. Knowing the suffering was deserved humbles the heart. It never dries the tears.
- Comfort coming. The tears look ahead. A greater One wept over the same city. And a day is coming when His people will sing that the Lord has comforted them and redeemed Jerusalem.