Getting Biblical in Daily Life
Lamentations takes place a long time ago in a country far, far away. So, time and distance are issues when you're trying to figure out what's going on in this book.
Shmoop helpeth.
Author, Author
So who exactly wrote this thing down 2,600 years ago? Traditionally, people said that the prophet Jeremiah wrote the book. He was alive and witnessed the attacks on Jerusalem and was exiled to Babylon, so he had lots of firsthand knowledge about the situation. But today, most scholars think the book was actually written as five separate poems by multiple authors and then edited together into one super sad, tear-jerking collection.
If you noticed, each of the chapters or poems has sort of a different feel and focus on the tragedy in Jerusalem. Some end on a hopeful note. Some not so much. They're all about the same event, but there are enough differences for us to suspect that these weren't written by just one guy on a Tuesday afternoon for his Intro to Babylonian Conquests class. So to keep things simple, we've just called these multiple anonymous authors "the Poet."
Why, God? Why?
Now we've got to move on to bigger questions. Just why was it written?
Let's set the scene. You're a devout Jew living in Jerusalem around the start of the sixth century BCE. Your daily life is totally focused on your role in the Jewish community. You have a shared history with these people going all the way back to Abraham. That's when God made a covenant with you all. He sealed the deal at Mt. Sinai. If you play by his rules and don't disrespect him, he's got your back. As a bonus, his spirit also dwells in the Temple, also known as the holiest place in the city, which you pass by every day. So you're pretty darn special. Life is good and looks to stay that way.
Suddenly, life as you know it is turned upside down. The Babylonian Empire comes to town and takes control of the entire Jewish nation. The city is attacked several times over the years, but the final blow comes when the Babylonian army enters Jerusalem, kills many of the people, and burns the city to the ground. At the end of the day, your home is in total ruins. Even the Temple is reduced to rubble and its contents hauled off to Babylon.
Now, one of two things happens. If you're important enough, you're taken prisoner and forced to relocate in Babylon never to return to your home again. If you're no big deal, you're left to starve in the streets alongside your friends and neighbors.
Bring on the Feels
So, you feel pretty bad right now. What should you do? Well, it might be a nice time to have a good cry. One of the purposes of Lamentations is to express the profound grief that the people are feeling after this tragedy. They need to get their feelings all out in the open so they're spending some time wallowing in their own despair and disbelief. Catharsis, Freud called it.
Even after the city was rebuilt 70 years later, the people read Lamentations again and again so they wouldn't ever forget the destruction of Jerusalem. Scholars actually believe that the people met at the site of the demolished Temple each year to remember it. (Source The Oxford Bible Commentary. New York: Oxford University Press, 2001. p. 529.) They'd read poems like the ones from Lamentations or sing sad songs and watch Beaches and just grieve together. Today, observant Jews read Lamentations on Tisha B'Av (the 9th day of the month of Av), a fast day commemorating the destruction of both Temples and several other historical tragedies.
This isn't so different from what we do today. Every year on September 11th, you'll see countless ceremonies and folks urging us not to forget what happened. It's the same reason we put up everything from war memorials to commemorative plaques. As weird as it sounds, human beings want and need to remember the pain of the past. It's part of what helps us heal and move forward with life.
BTW, if you're hooked on crying it out about Jerusalem, try Psalm 137 .
Blaming the Victim
But Lamentations wasn't only written to get all the sadness out in the open. The Poet is also trying to make sense of all this senseless violence. In a religious society, it's the age-old question of theodicy —if God is good, why do bad things happen? Why is there suffering in a world with a merciful God?
After all, the Jewish people are supposed to be God's chosen. Why didn't he stop all the suffering? Remember, God is all-powerful, so he totally could have swatted down the Babylonian army if he wanted to. He controls the outcomes of all wars (and football games). So why didn't he side with his chosen nation?
The Poet believes that God allowed all this horror to happen for a reason. Basically, the leaders and prophets had fallen short of what God expected for them. They had sinned and transgressed and disobeyed his laws. This did not amuse God one bit. To make a point, he let the Babylonians level the city.
If you're thinking that God might have gone a little overboard on his punishment here, then you're not alone. But the Poet doesn't really question God on this point. In a way, it makes sense. If you believe that God acts in human history and that he's always right, then it follows that if something bad happens to you, it was because you deserved it. So, if God didn't decide something in Judah's favor, then it must be their fault. Never being wrong is one of God's specialties.
This doesn't stop the Poet from pleading on behalf of the women and children of Jerusalem, who were probably passive victims of the poor political decisions of their leaders and prophets.
The Poet is pretty much blaming the victim here. Today, lots of people would probably take offense to this point of view. After the attacks on the World Trade Center in 2001, Jerry Falwell caught a lot of flak when he said, "What we saw on Tuesday, as terrible as it is, could be miniscule if in fact God continues to lift the curtain and allow the enemies of America to give us probably what we deserve." He later apologized, but people weren't too thrilled to hear that our "sins" were to blame for this national tragedy rather than the destructive actions of terrorists. Some religious leaders have even blamed Hurricane Katrina on homosexuality and abortion.
Turn It Around
Shmoop needs a pick-me-up. Was there anything good that came out of this whole tragic episode in Jewish history? Yes. This terrible event gave us Judaism as we know it today.
After the destruction of their homeland and Temple, the Jewish people had to pick up the pieces and start again. Those who were forced into exile in Babylon were able to start their own community there. Though they were far from the land that God had given their ancestors, they still held onto their faith, rituals, and values as a community.
The people had to reexamine what it meant to have a relationship with God. For them, it was pretty crucial that they believed that their sin had caused their suffering. If they thought God was at fault, then they would have probably concluded that he was a total revenge freak and just stopped worshipping him. Instead, they blamed themselves and recommitted to the faith and laws of Moses. It was a solid plan.
That's why, during this time, the Torah (a.k.a. the first five books of the Bible) really come together. It makes sense that the people would see this as a time to reorganize their lives and record their history as a people. They write down everything that has happened to them since Day 1 of creation and all the laws that God has given them. They also tell the story of how they won the Promised Land in the first place. What better way to give everyone a little hope?
Without the Temple, the Jews also found new ways to worship and they found a way to survive as a people in exile—something that has been pretty helpful to the Jews throughout history. They couldn't offer daily sacrifices without a Temple, but they could still celebrate holidays, offer prayers, and read the sacred texts. About 65 years after the Temple was destroyed, it was rebuilt in Jerusalem when the Persian king Cyrus the Great allowed the Jews to return to the Holy Land.
Lamentably, that Temple was destroyed by the Romans in 70 CE