Mark and remember, God, all the enemy taunts, each idiot desecration. Don’t throw your lambs to the wolves; after all we’ve been through, don’t forget us. Remember your promises; the city is in darkness, the countryside violent. Don’t leave the victims to rot in the street; make them a choir that sings your praises.
Lamentations 3:61The Message“You heard, God, their vicious gossip, their behind-my-back plots to ruin me. They never quit, these enemies of mine, dreaming up mischief, hatching malice, day after day after day. Sitting down or standing up—just look at them!— they mock me with vulgar doggerel. See the chapter |
6 Cross References
“Remember, God, all we’ve been through. Study our plight, the black mark we’ve made in history. Our precious land has been given to outsiders, our homes to strangers. Orphans we are, not a father in sight, and our mothers no better than widows. We have to pay to drink our own water. Even our firewood comes at a price. We’re nothing but slaves, bullied and bowed, worn out and without any rest. We sold ourselves to Assyria and Egypt just to get something to eat. Our parents sinned and are no more, and now we’re paying for the wrongs they did. Slaves rule over us; there’s no escape from their grip. We risk our lives to gather food in the bandit-infested desert. Our skin has turned black as an oven, dried out like old leather from the famine. Our wives were raped in the streets in Zion, and our virgins in the cities of Judah. They hanged our princes by their hands, dishonored our elders. Strapping young men were put to women’s work, mere boys forced to do men’s work. The city gate is empty of wise elders. Music from the young is heard no more. All the joy is gone from our hearts. Our dances have turned into dirges. The crown of glory has toppled from our head. Woe! Woe! Would that we’d never sinned! Because of all this we’re heartsick; we can’t see through the tears. On Mount Zion, wrecked and ruined, jackals pace and prowl. And yet, God, you’re sovereign still, your throne intact and eternal. So why do you keep forgetting us? Why dump us and leave us like this? Bring us back to you, God—we’re ready to come back. Give us a fresh start. As it is, you’ve cruelly disowned us. You’ve been so very angry with us.”
“I’ve heard the crude taunts of Moab, the mockeries flung by Ammon, The cruel talk they’ve used to put down my people, their self-important strutting along Israel’s borders. Therefore, as sure as I am the living God,” says God-of-the-Angel-Armies, Israel’s personal God, “Moab will become a ruin like Sodom, Ammon a ghost town like Gomorrah, One a field of rocks, the other a sterile salt flat, a moonscape forever. What’s left of my people will finish them off, will pick them clean and take over. This is what they get for their bloated pride, their taunts and mockeries of the people of God-of-the-Angel-Armies. God will be seen as truly terrible—a Holy Terror. All earth-made gods will shrivel up and blow away; And everyone, wherever they are, far or near, will fall to the ground and worship him. Also you Ethiopians, you, too, will die—I’ll see to it.” * * *
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