It is of Jehovah's loving-kindness we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not;
Lamentations is a book of grief over a ruined city, and chapter 3 speaks for the people who lived through it. Verse 22 is where the mourner stops counting his wounds and asks why anyone is still alive.
The verses before this one are bitter. Then the speaker turns and takes God's side.
Verse 22 strikes a completely different note, and a tone of high, joyful confidence carries on down to verse 36. Instead of complaining that his sorrows were greater than he deserved, he declares God right, and thankfully admits that justice has been mixed with grace… How precious the faith that, at such a time, could so speak! And what tested believer can honestly say anything else? Only when the soul is away from God's presence does His correction seem too severe, and partly undeserved.
Older English versions read the first line as "It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed," and most of the writers here quote it that way. On that reading, the verse points at the bare fact that the speaker and his people are still alive.
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He was still alive, bowed under the weight of his troubles, and that was evidence of mercy. What he had been through fits the present state of the city and the nation. The city lay in ruins and the nation was in great trouble, yet they were not consumed. Jeremiah was one of them, and he and others still alive were witnesses of this. How could they explain it? They deserved to be swept off the earth, but God in mercy had stepped in… His justice demanded the judgment they deserved. His mercy gave hope for the future, and they were living examples of it.
The second half of the verse explains the first. It tells us what God feels, not only what He does.
"His compassions fail not." No cold, indifferent heart ever directs the rod. He feels as no other can for the people of His choice, the children He loves. Every morning brings fresh evidence of His loving-kindness.
There is a note on the wording worth knowing. Older translations turned the first line around, so that it is God's mercies, rather than the people, that "are not consumed."
The Targum and the older versions, apart from the Latin one, turn it this way: "The mercies of Jehovah are not consumed, for His compassions fail not." I see no good reason for that, though Calvin thinks this sense fits better. The Latin version and our own English one read better to me. They are clearer, and they give more prominence to His people themselves… So His mercies have no end.
The next verse says these compassions are new every morning. Writers tie that rhythm to the manna, the bread God gave His people each morning in the desert.
The manna also had to be gathered in the morning. It was the evidence of God's provision for His people day by day, as we read elsewhere: "His compassions fail not. They are new every morning" (Lamentations 3:22-23).
Daily mercy carries a person through a long wait. Joseph waited like that, forgotten by people.
The devil may tempt us day by day, and God may test us by keeping us waiting from day to day. Still, He renews His mercy every day… Man forgets Joseph, but the Lord remembers him.
The passage does not stop at the mercies themselves. It goes on to the Giver, so hope holds even when no mercy can be seen.
What held our souls up in the past, when they were almost overwhelmed? The Lord's mercies! So we have hope… The sorrows did not come alone, the mercies followed hard on their heels. Therefore we have hope! And suppose there were neither mercies nor compassions — what then? Then, "The LORD is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in Him." It is good to hear hope's song break into the prophet's funeral song, and to learn that the Lord was greater than his greatest sorrow.
- Not consumed — the verse starts from survival. They deserved to be swept off the earth, and mercy stepped in instead.
- Not deserved — he stops arguing that his suffering was too heavy, and admits that justice came mixed with grace. Only a soul away from God calls the correction too severe.
- Not cold — the hand holding the rod is not indifferent. His compassions do not fail, so the blow fell only in part.
- Not exhausted — mercy comes in daily portions, like the manna gathered each morning. That is what carries a person through a long wait.
- Not dependent — even if no mercies could be counted, hope still stands, because the Lord Himself is the portion.
they are new every morning great is thy faithfulness.
These words sit in the middle of a long lament, and they turn it toward hope. How can a man in that much grief call God's mercies new and His faithfulness great?
The tone of the chapter turns at verse 22, and this line carries the turn. Notice where the speaker puts the blame.
The note changes completely at verse 22, and he keeps up a high strain of joyful confidence down to verse 36. He does not complain that his troubles were greater than he deserved. Instead, he clears God of blame and gives thanks that God has mixed justice with grace. "It is of the Lord's mercies," he owns, "that we are not consumed, because His compassions never fail. They are new every morning: great is Your faithfulness." How precious is the faith that could speak like that at such a time! And what tested believer can honestly say anything else? Only when the soul is out of God's presence does it seem as if His discipline were too severe, and partly undeserved.
The word "morning" has its own history in the Bible. Manna was the bread God gave Israel in the desert. It had to be gathered at daybreak, and it came again the next day.
In Exodus there are also many references to the morning. "In the morning … you shall see the glory of the Lord." This was the answer to the murmuring of the people. The manna too had to be gathered in the morning. It was the evidence of God's provision for His people day by day, as we read elsewhere: "His compassions never fail. They are new every morning."
How much mercy does one ordinary day hold? Count it, from the first meal to lying down at night.
"His mercies are new every morning." Mercy comes in as steadily as the tide. In fact, how many tides of mercy do we see in a single day! We never eat without mercy carving every piece for us. We never drink except from the golden cup of mercy. We never go out without mercy setting a guard of angels around us. We never lie down in bed without mercy drawing the curtains of protection close around us. Shall we receive so many good things from the hand of God, and not receive evil? Our mercies far outweigh our afflictions; for one affliction we have a thousand mercies.
The second half of the verse — "great is Your faithfulness" — is also a line the Lord Jesus could speak. What did His own mornings look like?
The Lord Jesus could say, "The Lord God has given me the tongue of those who are taught, that I may know how to sustain with a word him who is weary. Morning by morning he awakens; he awakens my ear to hear as those who are taught" (Isa. 50:4), and He could say, "Great is Your faithfulness" (Lam. 3:23). I wonder about us — do we have these experiences morning by morning? Do we listen to what God has to say to us through His word? … The Lord Jesus received fresh communication every morning. Do we receive fresh communication every morning? Well, we can.
Human compassion has a limit; God's does not. What does that mean when the people who should care let you down?
In the Christian circle God would have us free of care. This can only happen as we cast all our care on Him, in the happy consciousness that He cares for us. Sadly, we may fail in our shepherd care of one another. But the compassions of God will not fail; "they are new every morning." If those who shepherd fail, and the sheep feel neglected, let each one take comfort from this word: "He cares for you."
If mercy arrives new each day, what should meet it? Look at how a day begins and ends.
His mercies are new to us every morning and our praise should be new as well. And if we begin our day with praise and thanksgiving and faith and hope, we must end it with thanks and praise. Its needs and ups and downs only bring out the trustworthiness and the resources of our God.
- Ruins first. A man in deep loss stops protesting his suffering. He clears God of blame and owns that God has mixed justice with grace.
- Morning next. Like manna gathered at daybreak, God's compassions come fresh, day by day.
- Count them. Mercy comes in like the tide: every meal, every drink, every step out, every night's sleep. For one affliction we have a thousand mercies.
- Christ's pattern. The Lord Jesus listened morning by morning and could say, "Great is Your faithfulness." The same fresh hearing is open to us in God's word.
- Then praise. New mercies each morning call for new thanks each morning. And God's compassions hold steady even where human care fails.
Jehovah is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him.
Jeremiah writes these words while Jerusalem lies in ruins and the sanctuary is desolate. In that wreckage he says one thing about God, and draws one conclusion from it.
In this chapter the sufferer looks past his losses to the God behind them. One writer finds it a place of worship, even with the sanctuary in ruins:
In the third part, it is the LORD Himself who is before the soul: the bitterness lies in its coming from the LORD. Yet here the burdened one begins to realise what is in the LORD for him, and He Himself is still his portion. The sorrow is discipline, and it is good to bear the yoke. Out of it all, at last, come revival and blessing and the overthrow of enemies. Though the sanctuary is desolate, we find this chapter of Lamentations to be a sanctuary-psalm. The LORD Himself is this.
A portion is the share a person lives on. Jeremiah names God as his. One writer shows how small that looks to a heart that wants something it can hold:
It is a fine portion, without doubt. Yet unbelief thinks it nothing. It longs for someone to show it some good it can touch — the grain and wine and oil of this creation. But to have Him who has all things is a better portion beyond comparison. He is Himself infinitely more than all He has. Anyone who believes this by grace must admit it.
The idea did not start with Jeremiah. Israel's priests received no share of the land. God Himself was their portion:
The priests needed these provisions, because unlike the other tribes they had no inheritance in the land. They were to realise that God was their portion and inheritance. We may wonder whether they understood and valued this as they should have. But what about ourselves today? Being priests, believers have no earthly inheritance. Yet even now God is our portion and inheritance. And we have the wonderful prospect of an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled and unfading, kept in heaven (1 Peter 1:4).
Jeremiah reports what his own soul is saying. That makes it something each person has to say for himself, and it shows what the heart has been chasing instead:
The words "You are my portion" are a confession, not a prayer. Has there not been a danger of our looking for a portion on earth, looking around for something to satisfy? How good it is for us to find, as Solomon did, that everything here is "empty." The Lord is God's centre, and the source of all grace for us. When we realise that, our souls reach out to Him and say, "Lord, You are my portion."
Hope appears earlier in the chapter, at verse 21. One writer traces where that hope comes from:
There is no doubt that the ground of hope which the prophet takes to heart, as he said in verse 21, is stated in the verses that follow… The last clause confirms that verse 21 was looking ahead, and that here we reach the source of it.
Another writer takes the thought to its worst case:
When other helpers failed and comforts fled, what was it that did not fail? His compassions… And suppose there were neither mercies nor compassions — what then? Then, "The LORD is my portion, says my soul; therefore I will hope in Him." It is good to hear the song that hope sings break in on the prophet's funeral lament. It is good to learn that the Lord was greater than his greatest sorrow.
The portion lies in heaven, out of trouble's reach. So no trouble here can put the light out:
Have you not chosen Him for your portion? Are you not looking for a heaven to enjoy Him in for ever? Then can any dungeon of outward affliction be so dark that this hope will not light it up? He who has laid up a portion in heaven for you will surely cover all the costs you need on your way there. Remember how often God has proved your fears wrong and shown your unbelief to be a false prophet.
- Ruin. Jeremiah speaks over a ruined city, and the sanctuary is gone. Yet the chapter itself becomes a sanctuary, because God Himself is still there.
- Portion. A portion is the share you live on. Name God as yours, and you have the One who owns all things and is worth more than all He owns.
- Precedent. Israel's priests owned no land; God Himself was their portion. Commentators say the same of believers: no earthly inheritance now, and an inheritance kept in heaven.
- Claim. "Says my soul" makes it a confession, not a prayer. It becomes real when a heart stops hunting for a portion on earth and says it.
- Therefore. Even if you could see no mercies at all, God Himself remains. So hope stands on ground no affliction can reach, and no dungeon is dark enough to put out its light.
Jehovah is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul [that] seeketh him.
Jeremiah writes as a man who has been through deep trial with Jerusalem. He turns from his own affliction to what he has found God to be. The verse names two people God is good to: the one who waits, and the one who seeks. Why do those two belong together?
This is not a general remark about God. It is a report from a man who had been through the worst.
Jeremiah tells what he gained from the Lord's ways with him in his trouble, and what it all did to his heart. "The Lord is my portion, says my soul; therefore I will hope in Him." That is how a man can speak who had seen affliction under the rod of God's wrath. Having passed through seasons of trial, he can tell Jerusalem what he has found, a knowledge of great value. Had he only entered into trial with Jerusalem, he might have stated what he looked for. His expectations might have been right, and his view of the future correct. But that would have given no comfort like the experience he actually gained. So he goes on, "The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him."
The same writer adds where all this comfort comes from.
All the comfort here is drawn from the Lord's known character — a wonderful rock to stand on, when everything that has happened has been richly deserved.
The second half of the verse is not just a repeat of the first. It tests it.
These words cherish confident expectation. At the same time they expose and judge a false claim to be waiting for Him. A careless spirit might pretend to wait for Him. But could anyone think of such a person as a soul that seeks Him? This implies activity.
If waiting is not idleness, neither is it self-managed action. One writer, commenting on a psalm whose subject is waiting on God, describes the two things it holds together.
Waiting on God is the subject of this psalm. It implies dependence and confidence — and both in such a way that we wait for God's time. Dependence, because we cannot do anything without Him, and ought not to. What He does is the only thing the soul desires. Action without Him, even in self-defence, is only the action of our own will, and so far it is our being without God. Saul did not wait on God. He waited nearly seven days. But if he had felt that he was dependent, and that nothing could be done without God, he would have done nothing till Samuel came. He did not. He acted for himself, and lost the kingdom. But waiting implies confidence too, for why should we wait if God would not come in? The soul is sustained in the meantime. And this confidence is such that we wait for the Lord's own good time.
The verse promises goodness to those who wait. One writer says that few Christians ever do it.
These truths are so little grasped for one reason: waiting on God is largely a "lost art" among Christians today. The rush and hurry of the age, "the lust of other things" — in a word, the worldliness that marks this hugely important period in the Church's history — effectively shuts out all desire to wait on God. This, it is to be feared, is true of a large number of those who confess the name of Jesus as Saviour and Lord. As a result, they know little or nothing, in a practical way, of His goodness in meeting felt need, or of His power to satisfy the soul that seeks His face.
The same writer is careful not to overpromise what the waiting soul receives.
The Lord has nowhere promised immediate relief from sorrow and suffering. Sometimes, in His righteous government, He allows His people to suffer affliction. Then it is good that they seek His face at once, and wait on Him. It may not be His will to remove every thorn in the flesh. If not, He will give the waiting soul grace to endure, and to endure with joy.
This verse turns practical when people speak against us and we want to answer back.
How good it is for us to follow in His steps. When men speak malicious words, from whatever quarter they come, how good to keep silent and know that the Lord is our resource. It is good for us to take up the words of the prophet and say, "The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him."
- Proved: Jeremiah is not predicting God's goodness. He reports it after coming through affliction, and that is why his words comfort.
- Waited for: Waiting joins dependence and confidence. We cannot act without Him, and we wait for His time because we trust He will come in.
- Sought: The second half of the verse tests the first. A careless spirit may claim to wait, but it does not seek. Real seeking is active.
- Lost: The rush and worldliness of the age crowd out waiting. Those who never wait never taste His goodness in real need.
- Given: He does not promise to remove every thorn. He does give the waiting soul grace to endure, and to endure with joy.
It is good that one should both wait, and that in silence, for the salvation of Jehovah.
Lamentations 3:26 sits in the middle of a book of grief. Jeremiah tells a suffering person what to do, and two questions follow. What salvation is he waiting for? And why must the waiting be quiet?
Commentators read "salvation" here in two very different ways. One says the rescue in view is deliverance from present trouble, not the eternal salvation of the soul.
When Jeremiah wrote that it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord, he was not talking about the salvation of the soul. He meant rescue from the troubles and confusions along the way. Nowhere does Scripture put the eternal salvation of the soul before us as something to wait for in patience and quietness. Again and again it states the opposite. For light on the salvation of the soul we turn to the New Testament. These two sides of salvation must be kept clearly apart.
Others look further ahead. They see a rescue still to come for Israel and for the believer, secured in the risen Christ.
But wait for what? The salvation of God. It is secured in Christ raised from among the dead, for Israel and for us too. We are saved by grace already, and we will know that salvation in full when our risen and glorified Saviour returns. Israel will know it afterwards.
One writer looks at a related word for silence. That silence is not empty.
The second word, Dumah, means "silence." It clearly adds another feature. It, too, often implies expectancy. In Lamentations 3:26, where the verse speaks of waiting quietly for the salvation of the Lord, this word is used for "quiet expectancy."
Some might use quiet waiting as a cover for doing nothing.
In this way the verse nourishes confident expectation, and it exposes and judges any false claim of waiting for Him. A careless person might pretend to wait for Him. But could anyone call such a person a soul that seeks Him? Seeking Him implies activity.
In trouble, the natural pull is to act and force a way out. One writer names that impulse, and sets Saul's haste at Gilgal beside Jehoshaphat's dependence on God.
We all need to learn this lesson when we are brought into hardship, confusion, or trials. The flesh is impatient. Like Saul at Gilgal, it cannot wait. It must do something to force a way out of difficulty and rescue itself. What we need is to see how powerless we are, and how dependent on the Lord, so that we may stand still and see His salvation. Jehoshaphat is a beautiful example of this when an overwhelming army was coming. He said to the Lord, "We are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you." He and Judah waited on the Lord for His salvation.
Another writer blames the rush of the age, and names what it costs.
Christians take in so little of the truths taught here because waiting on God has largely become a "lost art" today. The rush and hurry of the age, "the lust of other things," in a word, the worldliness that marks this critical time in the Church's history, shuts out any desire to wait on God... So they know little or nothing, in a practical way, of His goodness in meeting the need they feel, and of His power to satisfy the soul that seeks His face.
Waiting is not a deal for quick relief. Two writers say the trial may remain, and that silence includes taking the discipline from God's hand.
The Lord has nowhere promised instant relief from sorrow and suffering. When in His righteous rule He allows His people to suffer, they do well to seek His face at once and wait on Him. He may not choose to remove every thorn in the flesh. If He does not, He will give the waiting soul grace to endure, and to endure with joy.
We must learn to wait in silence for the salvation of God, and to receive from His hand the discipline He allows. We must even accept loneliness and stay silent, because trials come from Him, and because we can rest assured that "though he cause grief, he will have compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love."
- Good — the verse calls waiting good, not just bearable. Commentators differ on the salvation meant: rescue from present trouble, or the full deliverance when Christ returns.
- Quiet — the word behind "quietly" points to silence, and that silence is expectancy. It is a hush that watches for God.
- Active — silence toward God goes with seeking Him. That test exposes a careless spirit that only claims to wait.
- Impatient — the flesh cannot stand still and forces its own escape, like Saul at Gilgal. Hurry and worldliness have made waiting a lost art.
- Compassion — the thorn may stay. But the one who waits is given grace to endure with joy, because the God who caused the grief will show compassion.