Lamentations 2:7-16

The Message

⁷ God abandoned his altar, walked away from his holy Temple
    and turned the fortifications over to the enemy.
    As they cheered in God’s Temple, you’d have thought it was a feast day!

⁸ God drew up plans to tear down the walls of Daughter Zion.
    He assembled his crew, set to work and went at it.
    Total demolition! The stones wept!

⁹ Her city gates, iron bars and all, disappeared in the rubble:
    her kings and princes off to exile—no one left to instruct or lead;
    her prophets useless—they neither saw nor heard anything from God.

¹⁰ The elders of Daughter Zion sit silent on the ground.
    They throw dust on their heads, dress in rough penitential burlap—
    the young virgins of Jerusalem, their faces creased with the dirt.

¹¹ My eyes are blind with tears, my stomach in a knot.
    My insides have turned to jelly over my people’s fate.
    Babies and children are fainting all over the place,

¹² Calling to their mothers, “I’m hungry! I’m thirsty!”
    then fainting like dying soldiers in the streets,
    breathing their last in their mothers’ laps.

¹³ How can I understand your plight, dear Jerusalem?
    What can I say to give you comfort, dear Zion?
    Who can put you together again? This bust-up is past understanding.

¹⁴ Your prophets courted you with sweet talk.
    They didn’t face you with your sin so that you could repent.
    Their sermons were all wishful thinking, deceptive illusions.

¹⁵ Astonished, passersby can’t believe what they see.
    They rub their eyes, they shake their heads over Jerusalem.
    Is this the city voted “Most Beautiful” and “Best Place to Live”?

¹⁶ But now your enemies gape, slack-jawed.
    Then they rub their hands in glee: “We’ve got them!
    We’ve been waiting for this! Here it is!”