How lonely sits the city
That was full of people!
How like a widow is she,
Who was great among the nations!
The princess among the provinces
Has become a slave!
(Lamentations 1:1).
God’s promised punishment of His people had come to pass. The elite were carried captive, fulfilling Ezekiel’s prophecy (21:27), with those remaining fated to either sword or famine. Forgotten, the years of Egypt’s slavery, their forebears’ forty-year wilderness trek, their worship of the God who provided for all their needs.
Chosen, sanctified, ordained prior to conception, Jeremiah had been forewarned: These people won’t listen. They will fight against you. But I am with you and will deliver you from their attacks. His youthful reluctance overridden, he delivered God’s rousing messages:
“Stand in the ways and see, and ask for the old paths, where the good way is, and walk in it; then you will find rest for your souls. But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’ Also, I set watchmen over you, saying, ‘Listen to the sound of the trumpet!’ But they said, ‘We will not listen.’ Therefore hear . . . I will certainly bring calamity on this people . . . they have not heeded My words nor My law, but rejected it” (6:16-19).
“O Lord, I know the way of man is not in himself; it is not in man who walks to direct his own steps. O Lord, correct me, but with justice; not in Your anger, lest You bring me to nothing” (10:23, 24).
“It may be that the house of Judah will hear all the adversities which I purpose to bring upon them, that everyone may turn from his evil way, that I may forgive their iniquities and their sin” (36:3).
However, labeled as stubborn rebels and as lead consumed in a defective smelter with wickedness undrawn, God’s people were considered rejected silver. The dreaded Babylonians had come, conquered, and displaced many, leaving a repressed people to face starvation.
Deserted roadways mourned the passing of devoted pilgrims wending their way to Sabbath celebrations and joyful feasts. Deep-seated ruts missed the rolling wheels transporting beast or burden as sacrificial offerings. Children’s laughter no longer rebounded off city walls. Near-empty streets watched silently as boys and girls fainted from lack of food.
Temple ruins stirred no memories of priest or Levite performing their prescribed service. Hidden within the rubble, the Book of the Law neither invoked nor proclaimed vision. Broken walls looked askance as women, in an effort to stave starvation’s rages, killed and cooked infants once cuddled to their breasts. City gates slunk down into the ground, ashamed of the pervasive devastation. Winds that had carried words of false prophets aloft remained silent.
Doesn’t anybody care? The cloud of God’s anger lingered over His “footstool” (Jerusalem) as the rain mingled with the tears of the daughters of Zion.
Birds of the air, however, picked up on the prophet’s hope:
Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, . . . His compassions fail not. . . . Great is Your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion, . . . Therefore I hope in Him!” . . . He does not afflict willingly (Lamentations 3:22-24, 33).
Meanwhile, the streets of surrounding nations reverberated to stamping feet, clapping hands, and rejoicing heartbeats at the downfall of the once proud “golden” city (Ezekiel 25:6, 7).
Jerusalem’s punishment was greater than that of Sodom. Surely, one killed by the sword was better off than those who starved to death! And the air waves carried a sad refrain. Your throne remains forever, Lord. “Why do you forget us forever, and forsake us for so long a time? Turn us back to You . . . Unless You have utterly rejected us, and are very angry with us!” (Lamentations 5:20-22).
Through the prophecy of dry bones (Ezekiel 37:1-14), God held out a thread of hope:
Then He said to me, . . . “these bones are the whole house of Israel. They indeed say, ‘Our bones are dry, our hope is lost, and we ourselves are cut off!” . . . “I will put My Spirit in you, and you shall live, and I will place you in your own land” (vv. 11, 14).
God also reiterated His promise of Messiah to come (vv. 24, 25).
Captivity over, roadways groaned under the weight of many feet pilgrimaging homeward. Restored gates rose gracefully from the mire with new bolts and bars installed, ascending walls echoing to the sounds of children at play.
The Jews had long yearned for Christ’s coming. Their calculations were correct, but failure to recognize Him left them totally confused. Where were the angels? Trumpets? Attendants? Pomp and ceremony? The unacknowledged, rejected Servant-Messiah would weep over Jerusalem for their unbelief.
The rending of the temple veil at Jesus’ death negated the old covenant written on stone, and the risen Christ was appointed High Priest, even as Melchizedek, “according to the power of an endless life” (Hebrews 7:16). “For the law made nothing perfect; on the other hand, there is the bringing in of a better hope, through which we draw near to God” (v. 19).
Peter preached this “better hope” at Pentecost, with thousands of Jews baptized daily (Acts 2:14-36). He preached this same hope to Gentiles gathered in Cornelius’ house. The Holy Spirit descended, and more baptisms ensued (10:24-46).
“Thus says the Lord: ‘I will return to Zion, and dwell in the midst of Jerusalem. . . . Old men and old women shall again sit in the streets of Jerusalem, each one with his staff in his hand because of great age. The streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets. . . . They shall be My people and I will be their God’” (Zechariah 8:3-5, 8).
Christ’s death reconciles us as holy, blameless, and above reproach if we remain steadfast (Colossians 1:22, 23, 27). When we’re committed to Christ, this same Spirit indwells our hearts, bringing absolute assurance of eternity (Romans 5:5; 8:25). So in the Spirit, we eagerly wait!
