Showing posts with label Isolation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Isolation. Show all posts

Friday, November 15, 2013

Jesus Prays (Luke 6:12)

What did Jesus do before He chose His twelve disciples? He prayed all night (Luke 6:12)

With opposition mounting in regards to his compliance with Sabbath observance (Luke 6:1-11), Jesus retreats to a mountain where he prays throughout the night (Luke 6:12).

One of those days Jesus went out to a mountainside to pray, and spent the night praying to God. (Luke 6:12 NASB)
The following day, Jesus makes a critical move: he installs the twelve disciples who will serve as his inner core throughout the remainder of his life (Luke 6:13-16).

The length of time between Jesus’ nightlong prayer (Luke 6:12) and the preceding controversy surrounding healing on the Sabbath (Luke 6:6-11) is not indicated. Luke adds the imprecise time stamp that the prayer occurs on “one of those days” (Luke 6:12). As “those days” presumably contain continued criticism, the modern exasperated connotation of “one of those days” applies.

Such nondescript segues are common in Luke. Justo L. González (b. 1937) catalogs:

We come to a series of passages that begin with phrases that are chronologically vague, such as “once” (Luke 5:1, 12), “one day” (Luke 5:17), “one sabbath” (Luke 6:1), “on another sabbath” (Luke 6:6). At other points, however, Luke does imply a chronological connection: “after this” (Luke 5:27), “then” (Luke 5:29, 33), “during those days” (Luke 6:12). (González, Luke (Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible), 73)
The selection of the disciples is a pivotal scene in Luke’s narrative. Mark C. Black (b. 1956) outlines:
This passage begins a new section for Luke. It is not by accident that he narrates Jesus’ choosing his disciples just before the “Sermon on the Plain.” [Luke 6:17-49] Luke makes it clear that Jesus’ sermon is directed to them. The choosing of 12 disciples is such a momentous activity that Jesus does not attempt it before getting away to a mountainside and spending all night praying to God. (Black, Luke (College Press NIV Commentary), 138)
Before making the crucial announcement of the election of the Twelve, Jesus withdraws to a mountain to pray (Luke 6:12). The setting is as vague as the time marker though Luke designates the mountain with a definite article: Jesus is at the mountain (ASV, ESV, HCSB, NASB, NKJV, NRSV, RSV), not a mountain (CEV, KJV, MSG, NIV, NLT).

Michael F. Patella (b. 1954) locates:

There is a noticeable shift of direction in this scene. Away from the synagogues, towns, and people, Jesus goes “to the mountain to pray” (Luke 6:12) in an all-night vigil. The exact mountain is unknown, though the use of the definite article indicates that Lukan tradition must have had some specific mountain in mind. Galilee has many high places that could qualify as quiet retreats for prayer, but two are the most likely promontories: Mount Hermon, rising from the northeast corner of the Sea of Galilee, and Mount Tabor, south of the sea, visible from Nazareth and on the Jezreel Plain. They both have been traditional places of prayer from earliest antiquity (see Psalm 89:13), although Tabor is the more accessible of the two. (Patella, The Gospel According to Luke (New Collegeville Bible Commentary), 43)
Darrell L. Bock (b. 1953) studies:
The mountain referred to is not specified (William Hendriksen [1900-1982] 1978: 326 mentions the Horns of Hattin). Many speculate on a motif associated with the mountain: as a symbol for a place of revelation (so Frederick W. Danker [1920-2012] 1988: 134-35, citing Exodus 24:1-18) or a picture of being close to God (Joseph A. Fitzmyer [b. 1920] 1981: 616; Werner Foerster [1897-1975], Theological Dictionary of the New Testament 5:481). The latter is more likely, though there is no reason to turn the reference into a mere theological symbol. (Bock, Luke 1:1-9:50 (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 540)
Mark L. Strauss (b. 1959) offers:
This is also the hill on which Jesus gives his great sermon (see Luke 6:17). Luke’s reference to “a mountainside” is vague and the location is uncertain. It has traditionally been identified with the “Mount of Beatitudes’ at Tabgha, a mile and a half from Capernaum. Others identity the location as the Horns of Hattum near Tiberias. [Clinton E. Arnold [b. 1958], Luke (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 60)
Perhaps, most significantly the mountain is where people are not. Jesus has been in demand and the remoteness of the mountainside marks a stark contrast with the crowds to which he has become accustomed (Luke 4:42, 5:3, 5:15). With so much of his life on public display, Jesus finds it necessary to seek private time with God. The setting is stripped down with Jesus’ physical isolation commensurate with his inner solitude. This excursion is not for show; the crowds will have no influence on what unfolds on the mountain.

Retreating is normative behavior for Jesus; this is the third time in Luke’s gospel that he seeks isolation (Luke 4:42, 5:16, 6:12). John T. Carroll (b. 1954) addresses:

This is a familiar rhythm of Jesus’ ministry, although here Jesus withdraws not to the desert (or isolated places, as in Luke 4:42, 5:16) but to a mountain, literally “the mountain”...The mountain setting has rich symbolic meaning, and not just as a generic location for contact with the divine and divine disclosure. Moses received divine revelation on the mountain (Sinai) and then descended to the base of the mountain to impart that revelation to the people (e.g., Exodus 19:3, 14, 20, 25). Also on a mountain, Jesus receives God’s guidance, selects twelve apostles, and then descends with them to the plain, where he teaches a large crowd of disciples and the rest of the people (Luke 6:17). (Carroll, Luke: A Commentary (New Testament Library, 141)

Jesus values solitude. J. Norfleete Day (b. 1945) discerns:

Solitude is more than simply being alone. It is choosing to be alone with God so that we can be who we truly are and come to acknowledge this reality to ourselves and to God. It is as much a state of mind and heart as it is a place. We remove ourselves for a time from the distractions of the world and the responsibilities of community to reorient ourselves. It is a time to confront what Kenneth Boa [b. 1945] calls the “inner patterns and forces that are alien to the life of Christ within us.” Note also the words of M. Robert Mulholland, Jr. [b. 1936]: “In the classical Christian spiritual tradition...solitude is...beginning to face the deep inner dynamics of our being that make us that grasping, controlling, manipulative person; beginning to face our brokenness, our distortion, our darkness; and beginning to offer ourselves to God at those points.” (Timothy George [b. 1950] and Eric F. Mason [b. 1969], “Spiritual Theology for the Evangelical Church”, Theology in the Service of the Church: Essays Presented to Fisher H. Humphreys [b. 1939], 105)
While on the mountain, Jesus prays (Luke 6:12). Prayer is also a habit for Christ. This practice is especially emphasized in Luke’s gospel where prayer is a pervading factor in the gospel’s depiction of Jesus. Luke records that prayer “was his custom” (Luke 22:39 NASB).

David E. Garland (b. 1947) portrays:

Luke is the evangelist of prayer. Nine references to Jesus’ praying or teaching about prayer appear in Luke, seven on which are not recorded in the other gospels. Luke is the primary source both for knowledge of Jesus’ prayer life and for instruction in prayer. Luke alone tells us that prayer was associated with many of the redletter days in Jesus’ life. (Garland, Luke (Zondervan Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 977)
Darrell L. Bock (b. 1953) focuses:
This text is one of several where Luke associated an event with prayer (Luke 1:13, 2:37, 3:21, 5:16, 6:12, 28, 9:18, 11:1-2, 18:1, 22:41, 45). Dialogue with God is crucial to spirit well-being for Luke, particularly a humble attitude as one approaches God in prayer (Luke 18:9-14). For Luke prayer is a concrete way of expressing our necessary dependence on God. (Bock, Luke (IVP New Testament Commentary), 118)
I. Howard Marshall (b. 1934) researches:
The prayers of Jesus are highlighted in Luke’s Gospel at the crucial events in the story of Jesus. They have, of course, occasioned considerable discussion among Lucan scholars (cf. P.T. O’Brien [b. 1935], “Prayer in Luke-Acts”). The most extensive treatment of them is by David Crump [b. 1956] (Jesus the Intercessor), who has argued (1) that Jesus as the Son of God in Luke is the interceding mediator who prays for his disciples, and (2) that in Luke there is a self-revelatory function to Jesus’ prayers, so that through them the disciples come to a deeper realization of who he is. (Richard N. Longenecker [b. 1930], “Jesus — Example and Teacher of Prayer in the Synoptic Gospels”, Into God’s Presence: Prayer in the New Testament, 118)
Luke’s attention to Jesus’ prayer life is especially evident in the recounting of the selection of the disciples as Luke alone documents the preceding prayer (Matthew 10:1-4; Mark 3:13-19; Luke 6:12-17).

Dennis M. Sweetland (b. 1946) compares:

In rewriting Mark’s introduction, Luke has introduced the motif of prayer into this story (cf. Mark 3:13-19). Throughout the gospel Luke portrays Jesus as one who prays (Luke 3:21, 5:16, 6:12, 9:18, 28, 29, 11:1; cf. Luke 23:34, 46). Jesus teaches his disciples a prayer (Luke 11:2-4), and urges them to pray always and not lose heart (Luke 11:5-8, 18:1-8; cf. Luke 22:40). In Acts, the early church is pictured as following Jesus’ teaching and example concerning faithfulness in prayer (e.g., Acts 1:14-24, 2:42, 46, 47, 4:24-31, 12:5, 12, 20:36, 21:5). This has led many to conclude that Luke considers prayer to be among the more important elements of discipleship. (Earl Richard [b. 1940], “Following Jesus: Discipleship in Luke Acts”, New Views on Luke and Acts, 113)
Darrell L. Bock (b. 1953) interprets:
Luke’s portrait of Jesus highlights prayer. He prays before receiving the Spirit (Luke 3:21-22), all-night prayer precedes the selecting the Twelve (Luke 6:12), and two parables focus on prayer (Luke 11:5-13, 18:1-8). The answer to the dilemma of prayer is that it is not intended to do something for God, but for us. It is one of the mechanisms of relationship that God gives to his children to be in touch with him. God may not need prayer, but we do. (Bock, Luke (IVP New Testament Commentary), 291-92)
There is a trend in Luke’s placement of prayer as the gospel repeatedly employs prayer at important junctures in the narrative. Robert C. Tannehill (b. 1934) associates:
The comparatively frequent references to Jesus’ prayer in Luke almost always precede an important new development or crisis (Luke 3:21, 5:16, 9:18, 9:28-29, 22:40-46). Jesus’ prayer in Luke 6:12 also fits the pattern of Acts where prayer regularly accompanies appointment of people to special positions (Acts 1:24, 6:6, 13:2-3, 14:23; cf. John Nolland [b. 1947] 1989, 272). (Tannehill, Luke (Abingdon New Testament Commentaries), 113)
John F. O’Grady (b. 1939) inventories:
Luke...portrays Jesus as a man of prayer. He prayed just before his baptism (Luke 3:21). After he worked miracles he withdrew to pray (Luke 5:16). He prayed all night before choosing his disciples (Luke 6:12) and prayed after the miracle of the loaves (Luke 9:18). Jesus prayed as a prelude to the transfiguration (Luke 9:28-29), and was praying when his disciples asked him to teach them to pray (Luke 11:1). He prayed in the garden (Luke 22:39-45) and from the cross (Luke 23:46). By Luke’s account, Jesus always remains in close contact with God. (O’Grady, Men in the Bible: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, 114)
Richard J. Foster (b. 1942) depicts:
Like a recurring pattern in a quilt, so prayer threads its way through Jesus’ life...The teachings are matched by continual practice, not only of prayer itself but intense times of solitude. Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness for forty days (Matthew 4:1). He “withdrew...to a deserted place by himself” after learning of the beheading of his dear friend and cousin, John the Baptizer (Matthew 14:13). Following the incredible experience of the feeding of the five thousand, Jesus immediately “went up the mountain by himself to pray” (Matthew 14:23). When the disciples were exhausted from the demands of ministry, Jesus told them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while” (Mark 6:31). After Jesus’ healing of a leper Luke seems to be describing more of a habitual practice than a single incident when he notes that Jesus “would withdraw to deserted places and pray” (Luke 5:16). (Foster, Streams of Living Water: Celebrating the Great Traditions of Christ, 4-5)
The text does not specify what Jesus prays, instead noting only that he prays (Luke 6:12). Perhaps he says nothing but merely listens. Given the resultant action, the logical inference is that Jesus seeks guidance regarding who to include among his closest associates.

Robert H. Gundry (b. 1932) clarifies:

“Spending the whole night in prayer” heightens the accent on this sort of piety. Though many commentators deduce that Jesus was praying for divine guidance in selecting and naming the twelve apostles (Luke 6:13-16), Luke doesn’t relate the content of Jesus’ praying. So the accent falls on praying as such. Consistently, Luke portrays Jesus as a paragon of piety. (Gundry, Commentary on Luke)
Jesus could as easily be praying regarding the storm brewing in the passage that precedes the prayer (Luke 6:1-11) as the selection of the disciples which follows (Luke 6:13-16). The two topics could also be connected as there has previously been no mention of a need for an inner circle. As such, the installation of the Twelve may in some way be connected to the growing opposition.

François Bovon (b. 1938) assures that Jesus does not pray “for secular goods but for the unfolding plan of salvation by means of obedient faith in response to the revealed Word of God.” (Bovon, Luke 1 (Hermeneia: A Critical & Historical Commentary on the Bible), 208). Based upon his other prayers, it is likely that Jesus does not pray for “success”, but rather seeks conformity to God’s will (Luke 22:42).

Luke incorporates an odd phrase which appears only here in Scripture, typically translated as prayer “to God” (ASV, ESV, HCSB, KJV, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV, RSV). Not only is this wording redundant (who else would he be praying to?) but it does not represent a literal rendering of the Greek.

Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) identifies:

Literally “in the prayer of God”...Tou theou has to be understood as an objective genitive; it is omitted in manuscript D, probably because of its awkwardness, or perhaps because Jesus’ prayer is mentioned in neither Mark nor Matthew. (Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke I-IX (The Anchor Bible), 616)
David E. Garland (b. 1947) expounds:
The phrase “in prayer with God” (ἐν τη προσευχη του θεου, literally, “in the prayer of God”) is an objective genitive and implies that Jesus “speaks to God not for the sake of talking but to listen.” As the people come to listen to him, he listens to God, and tying his choice of the Twelve to prayer means that this decision has a “divine impetus” and purpose. They have not applied for the job. (Garland, Luke (Zondervan Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 272-273)
David Lyle Jeffrey (b. 1941) adds:
The additional phrase proseuchē tou theou (“prayer to God”) marks Jesus’s role as Son of the Father and intercessor; for Luke it is of the essence of our understanding of what follows that we perceive that Jesus has sought the will of the Father specifically before acting. As prolegomena, it is here especially striking: in the words of Pope Benedict XVI [b. 1927], “the calling of the disciples is a prayer event; it is as if they were begotten in prayer, in intimacy with the Father.” (Jeffrey, Luke (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible, 90))
In praying, Jesus partners with God.

It is not coincidence that Luke, the “evangelist of prayer”, also stresses Jesus’ humanity: there are few tasks more human than prayer, with its implicit dependence. Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768-1834) speaks of Jesus’ “consciousness of utter dependence on God”.

The question of why Jesus, as God incarnate, prays “to God” or “with God” is not an issue for the gospel writers. Instead, they stress the constancy of Christ’s prayers. After emptying himself of his deity (Philippians 2:7-8), the presumption is that Jesus prays for the same reason we all do, save for repentance and forgiveness of sins. Being fully human, prayer is as essential for Jesus as anyone.

Strikingly, on this occasion, Jesus prays all night (Luke 6:12). I. Howard Marshall (b. 1934) defines:

διανυκτερεύω, ‘to pass the night’ (Job 2:9), is used of an all-night vigil (cf. Luke 22:39-46) and stresses the solemnity of the occasion...The choice of the Twelve is made only after seeking God’s guidance (Acts 13:2, 14:23; cf. Luke 1:24-26). (Marshall, The Gospel of Luke (New International Greek Testament Commentary), 238)
A.T. Robertson (1863-1934) comments:
He spent the whole night (ἠν διανυκερεύων), a periphrastic imperfect active clause. It is here alone in the New Testament, but common in the Septuagint and in later Greek writers. Medical writers used it for whole night vigils. (Robertson, The Gospel according to Luke (Word Pictures in the New Testament), 98)
Darrell L. Bock (b. 1953) annotates:
Before choosing the Twelve, Jesus withdraws and spends the entire night in prayer. Διανυκερεύων (dianyktereuōn) refers to an all-night prayer vigil and appears only here in the New Testament (Job 2:9c; Josephus [37-100], Antiquities 6.13.9 §311; Alfred Plummer [1841-1926] 1896: 171)....Jesus’ actions follow a long communion with God. This is how Jesus deals with the rise of opposition. Solemnity and a note of guidance open the account...The early church learned to imitate this practice of prayer before decisions (Acts 6:6, 13:2-3, 14:23; I Timothy 4:14; II Timothy 1:6). Having spent the night in prayer, Jesus is ready to act. (Bock, Luke 1:1-9:50 (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 540)
R. Kent Hughes (b. 1942) envisions:
If he began after sundown at, say, 8:00 P.M. and prayed until sunup (6:00 AM), he spent ten hours in focused prayer (the Greek translated “spent the night” expresses persevering energy). As Jesus prayed on the mountainside, the moon ran its nocturnal course, the night’s temperature modulated with the hours, and morning dew dampened his robes. (Hughes, Luke, Volume One: That You May Know the Truth (Preaching the Word), 606)
The length of this prayer vigil is telling. Though Jesus routinely seeks God, praying all night is irregular. Though the psalms reference nightlong prayers (Psalm 6:6, 119:148), this is the only time Jesus is said to pray throughout the night. The session’s duration is indicative of the intensity of the prayer and the seriousness of the situation. Jesus ups the ante.

Justo L. González (b. 1937) understands:

The passage begins with prayer. The naming of the Twelve is not a random event, nor a decision taken lightly. Before naming them the next day, Jesus spent the night in prayer. This is the only time Luke depicts Jesus as praying all night—which shows the importance of the decision about to be made. (González, Luke (Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible), 90)
I. Howard Marshall (b. 1934) contends:
It is clear that for Luke an important stage in the founding of the church is to be seen here, the choice of those from among the company of Jesus’ companions from the beginning of his ministry who were to be in a special sense the witnesses to his resurrection and the messengers of the gospel. (Marshall, The Gospel of Luke (New International Greek Testament Commentary), 237)
As a point of comparison, choosing his disciples is comparable to Jesus praying to select the proper spouse. The Twelve will be the people with whom he will live and with whom he will spend the majority of his time. The disciples are the firstfruits of the church, the bride of Christ (Revelation 18:23, 19:7, 21:2, 9, 22:17). The extent of Jesus’ prayer pays deference to the imperativeness of the situation.

Genuine prayer can be painstaking and Jesus is willing to put in the necessary effort. Wayne Grudem (b. 1948) correlates:

Just as Moses twice stayed on the mountain forty days before God for the people of Israel (Deuteronomy 9:25-26, 10:10-11), and just as Jacob said to God, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me” (Genesis 32:26), so we see in Jesus’ life a pattern of much time given to prayer. When great multitudes were following him, “he himself was often withdrawing into the wilderness regions and praying” (Luke 5:16, author’s translation)...Another time, “all night he continued in prayer to God” (Luke 6:12). (Grudem, Systematic Theology: An Introduction to Biblical Doctrine, 387)
Wayne Grudem (b. 1948) instructs:
It is important to allow enough time for the various aspects of corporate worship. Genuine prayer can certainly take time (see Luke 6:12, 22:3-46; Acts12:12, 13:2). Solid Bible teaching can often take a long time as well (Matthew 15:32; Acts 20:7-11). Moreover, genuine, heartfelt worship and praise will also take quite a bit of time if it is to be effective. (Grudem, Systematic Theology: An Introduction to Biblical Doctrine, 1012)
Significantly, Luke accentuates that prayer often precedes an important task (Luke 3:21-22, 5:16). Like pumping a shot gun before shooting, prayer should precipitate action.

It is also noteworthy that solitude precedes community. Kenneth Boa (b. 1945) informs:

In a series on “Moving from Solitude to Community to Ministry,” Henri Nouwen [1932-1996] uses Luke 6:12-19 to illustrate the combination of these three disciplines in the life of our Lord. Jesus spent the night in solitude with God, and in the morning he formed community by gathering his disciples around him. Then in the afternoon Jesus ministered with his disciples to the physical and spiritual needs of the people who came to hear him. In the same way, we should imitate this inside-out order that flows from devotion to Christ (solitude), to devotion to the community, to devotion to the gospel (ministry). Community is the bridge that connects solitude (intimacy with God) with ministry to believers and unbelievers. (Boa, Conformed to His Image: Biblical and Practical Approaches to Spiritual Formation, 394)
Luke offers a rare glimpse behind the scenes of Jesus’ ministry into the less glamorous realm of his spiritual life. As he has not yet selected the disciples, he is not merely modeling proper behavior.

Scot McKnight (b. 1953) characterizes:

Jesus was truly a religious man. The normal features of his intense religious fervor can be inferred from the records about his life. Jesus prayed frequently (Luke 5:16) and fervently (Mark 1:35, 6:46), even all night (Luke 6:12). His baptism and transfiguration were accompanied by prayer (Luke 3:21, 9:28-29). In fact, Luke tells us that Jesus’ prayers were so noticeable that his disciples asked him to teach them how to pray (Luke 11:1). The distinguishing characteristic of Jesus’ prayers was that he addressed God as Abba (the Aramaic term for “father”; cf. Matthew 6:9, 11:25-26; Mark 14:36). Scholars have found a surprising and perhaps unique degree of intimacy with God in this form of address; at the minimum, it reflects how Jesus experienced God. (Michael J. Wilkins [b. 1949] and J. P. Moreland [b. 1948], “Who is Jesus? An Introduction to Jesus Studies”, Jesus Under Fire: Modern Scholarship Reinvents the Historical Jesus, 58)
Though many contemporary followers of Jesus claim to be “spiritual but not religious”, Jesus is in fact a highly religious, praying person.

How important is prayer to Jesus’ ministry? How does he occupy his time in prayer? Did Jesus struggle to discern the will of God? Why does Jesus pray in solitude? Do you consider yourself a “religious” person? Where do you go to pray? When have you needed time alone? Is God among those with whom you talk on a daily basis? What is the longest that you have prayed? Do you typically act or pray first? Why does Jesus, God incarnate, pray? Why do you pray? If Jesus needs prayer, how more so do we?

All of the details of Luke’s account of the selection of the disciples support that God’s will is being done. Robert J. Karris (b. 1938) contends:

As he does so often in his Gospel, Luke spotlights Jesus at prayer (Luke 6:12)...The selection of the Twelve is not only Jesus’ decision, but also God’s will revealed in prayer. (Karris, Invitation to Luke, 82)
Joel B. Green (b. 1956) explains:
In spite of the Lukan view that all Jesus does is done as one anointed by the Holy Spirit (Luke 4:1, 14, 18), the Third Evangelist periodically reminds his audience that his fundamental interest is in demonstrating that, within this narrative, the purpose of God is coming to fruition. In his account of the selection of the twelve this is evident, first, in its topography; Jesus goes out to a mountain, a locale often associated in Jewish literature with theophanic episodes and divine revelation. Second, in an unusual turn of phrase (“in prayer to God”), combined with an emphatic description of Jesus’ prayer, Luke draws attention to the divine impetus for the selection of the twelve to serve as “apostles.” Luke has not previously established a narrative need for the election of apostles, a reality that underscores its origination in the divine will, discerned in prayer. As Luke presents it, the idea of choosing itself, the election of twelve persons, and the choice of these particular persons from among the larger group of disciples — all three are divinely sanctioned. Jesus thus acts as God’s agent and in continuity with the divine will. (Green, The Gospel of Luke (The New International Commentary on the New Testament), 258)
The presumption is that Jesus chooses wisely. Scripture never laments nor regrets the choice of the Twelve. In fact, Jesus seems to affirm the choice (John 15:16). Robert H. Stein (b. 1935) notes:
In Acts 1:2 Jesus’ prayer and choice of the twelve is described in The Jerusalem Bible as having occurred “through the Holy Spirit.” It is uncertain, however, whether the phrase “through the Holy Spirit” goes better with the participle “giving instructions” (NIV) or the verb “chosen.” (Stein, Luke (The New American Commentary), 192)
Even with divine endorsement, the disciples are not flawless. Alfred McBride (b. 1928) assesses:
He [Jesus] did not pick perfect candidates, but people with a mixture of talents, flaws, gifts and frailties. They were pilgrims, not saints. They represented a range of human foolishness: vanity, ambition, jealousy, cowardice, doubt, bravado, betrayal, and overreaching...Still, in the end, they proved to be made of the stuff of saints. The Holy Spirit led them to be loving, truthful, brave, loyal, assured, humble, and saintly. Most of them witnessed Christ even to the point of martyrdom. Only one of them failed Christ’s expectations. (McBride, The Human Face of Jesus: Meditation and Commentary on the Gospel of Luke, 62-63)
Bruce B. Barton (b. 1943) characterizes:
Whatever Jesus’ specific reasons for choosing each disciple, as a group they were often hot-tempered, unbelieving, and “clueless” about the spiritual realities behind Jesus’ ministry. One became a traitor, and all of them abandoned Jesus when following him meant sacrifice and hardship. The apostles proved the truth of Jesus’ words: “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last” (John 15:16 NIV). (Barton, Luke (Life Application Bible Commentary), 144)
Bruce Larson (1925-2008) reminds:
Remember, Jesus chose twelve disciples, and one of them was Judas. That raises the question of whether or not Judas was an answer to prayer—one of the big theological questions of all time. God may give us some brothers and sisters who are not easy to love and who may even disappoint us and betray us, but the good news is that we need not be afraid of failure. God will be with us in our failures. (Larson, Luke (Mastering the New Testament), 119-20)
The enduring prayer before the selection of the disciples accents that the goal of prayer is to join with God’s will wherever that may lead. Doing so does not come with a guarantee that life will be perfect. Unifying with God’s will, however, is incentive enough.

Where does picking the Twelve rank among the important decisions Jesus makes during his earthly ministry? Is Jesus’ prayer effective; did he choose his disciples well? What is Jesus’ criteria for drafting the Twelve? Were the disciples selected based upon product or potential? Was Judas supposed to be selected? When has answered prayer not led to the results that you expected?

“The value of consistent prayer is not that [God] will hear us, but that we will hear Him.” -William McGill (1732-1807)

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Lamentations 101 (Lamentations 1:1)

What book begins “How lonely sits the city that was full of people?” Lamentations

The Babylonian conquest of Jerusalem and its citizens’ subsequent deportation represents a watershed moment in biblical history. This military loss not only marks a horrifying political defeat but also carries profound sociological and theological overtones. Jerusalem is far more than a mere city to its residents; it connotes the nation’s religious core and is viewed as the very residence of the divine presence. As such, when the blow is struck not only is the disaster itself felt but also the seeming indifference of God. The magnitude of the crippling loss cannot be underestimated.

Paul Joyce (b. 1954) assesses:

Israel’s entire symbol system had been torn away, and the people had experienced a complete loss of meaning. That structure of belief was centred on divine election, and, pressing the image of the bereaved widow [Lamentations 1:1c], we could even say that Israel had lost her “husband,” God himself. (Joyce, “Lamentations and the Grief Process: A Psychological Reading”, Biblical Interpretation, 1 (3), 310)
Lamentations is a response to this catastrophe. The book is a compilation of five poems which correspond to its five chapter divisions. The anonymous anthology is traditionally attributed to the prophet Jeremiah (presumably based upon II Chronicles 35:25). The first four entries are acrostics formatted around the Hebrew alphabet as if to chronicle the nation’s pain from A to Z. This arrangement also lends itself to corporate worship.

Eugene H. Peterson (b. 1932) recaps:

The lament...goes through the disaster, over and over, five distinct times, line by line in excruciating detail: rape, humiliation, mockery, sacrilege, starvation, and worst of all, cannibalism (mothers boiling the their babies for supper!)...The lament continues to be chanted still in the prayers of the Jewish community in August of each year (Ninth of Ab in the Hebrew calendar) on the anniversary of the terrible event. (Peterson, The Jesus Way: A Conversation on the Ways That Jesus Is the Way, 151)
Naturally, the tone of the book is grim. God is silent, the degree of suffering is presented as unwarranted and the prospects of redemption are kept at a minimum. The desolation seems complete.

The chronology of Lamentations’ entries is unknown though R.B. Salters suspects:

We do not know which of the five poems was the first to be written, but chapter 1 is, perhaps, the most striking, and it may be for this reason that it is placed at the beginning of the group. (Salters, Lamentations: A Critical and Exegetical Commentary (International Critical Commentary), 30)
This opening stanza is divided evenly into two parts (Lamentations 1:1-11, 12-22). Paul W. Ferris, Jr. (b. 1944) delineates:
Lamentations 1:1-11 ...[is] set...off as a subunit of the twenty-two verse poem by the prevalent use of the third-person feminine singular, referring to the shamed, devastated, and abandoned city. Jerusalem is personified as a widowed queen [Lamentations 1:1] and an unfaithful spouse now bereft of her children [Lamentations 1:2]. This subunit of the lament is presented by a third party, an observer, until the last clause, which transitions to the first person. (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b. 1947], Jeremiah~Ezekiel (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary), 585)
Hetty Lalleman understands:
In Lamentations 1:1-11 the poet speaks about Jerusalem and laments her fate. In Lamentations 1:12-22 Jerusalem is speaking, and me and my refer to the city. However, these two voices merge and we cannot tell one apart from the other. Throughout the whole chapter someone is voicing the disaster and distress that has come to the fallen city. (Lalleman, Jeremiah and Lamentations (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries, 335)
Robert Martin-Achard (1919-1989) analyzes:
We can observe in this poem a certain psychological progress. It moves from an objective, external form to a subjective one, because the poet changes his attitude from that of a sympathetic onlooker to being the voice of Zion herself. Even throughout the first part of the narrative there breaks forth in an ejaculatory prayer a deep feeling of distress; ‘O Lord, behold my affliction, for the enemy has triumphed (Lamentations 1:9c) and then, ‘Look, O Lord, and behold, for I am despised’ [Lamentations 1:11]. This prayer contains, as it were, a silent reproach to the Almighty: ‘Lord, how could you permit such a terrible thing to happen?!’(Martin-Achard and S. Paul Re’emi, Amos & Lamentations: God’s People in Crisis (International Theological Commentary), 83)
John Guest (b. 1936) infers:
Judging from his passion and the richness of his detail, we can assume that the writer was an eyewitness to the fall of Jerusalem and was most likely recording his impressions within a reasonable time frame of the actual event. He watches the city from the perspective of the third person for the first half of the dirge and then performs a literary stoke of genius by switching the perspective to the second person in the last half of the work. The shift carries with it a powerful intimacy that invites a personal response from the reader or the listener. (Guest, Jeremiah/Lamentations (Mastering the Old Testament), 356-57)
The dirge’s initial verse relays the city’s plight (Lamentations 1:1).
How lonely sits the city
That was full of people!
She has become like a widow
Who was once great among the nations!
She who was a princess among the provinces
Has become a forced laborer!(Lamentations 1:1 NASB)
Francis A. Schaeffer (1912-1984) summarizes:
In Lamentations 1:1 Jeremiah speaks of the city of Jerusalem: “How doth the city sit solitary, that was full of people!” Jerusalem, a city which used to be close to God, has been changed by the choice of significant men. They have turned away from Him when they knew Him, and now their city is under siege. There is death in the city. (Schaeffer, Death in the City, 35)
The opening verse establishes the book’s tone. F.B. Huey, Jr. (b. 1925) discloses:
Lamentations begins on a mournful note that is sustained throughout the book. Jerusalem had been destroyed by the Babylonians. The once-thriving nation’s commercial and religious center was now devastated and largely deserted. (Huey, Jeremiah, Lamentationshe (The New American Commentary), 450)
The verse is well conceived. Delbert R. Hillers (1932-1999) praises:
The opening stanza (Lamentations 1:1) is one of the most carefully worked out in the book from a formal point of view. The three lines are parallel to each other (so-called “external parallelism”). The first two are linked by repetition of rabbātī...and the third is closely joined to them by the parallel word śārātī...This formal elaborateness marks the importance of the themes introduced. (Hillers, Lamentations (Anchor Bible), 80-81)
Lamentations begins with a discussion of the emptiness of an anonymous city (Lamentations 1:1). The once prosperous locale is deserted, a ghost town as empty as the morale of its former inhabitants. Though names and dates are lacking, it is a thinly veiled reference to the Babylonian exile. There is no doubt that the city in question is Jerusalem.

Tremper Longman III (b. 1952) declares:

The poet does not name Jerusalem at the start, but simply speaks of the city. The name of the city does not have to be spoken; poet and readers would know the identity of the now deserted city of Jerusalem. As today there is no doubt when a New Yorker refers to “the city,” so there is no secret concerning the identity of the city among Judeans. This once bustling place (a city “closely compacted together” [Psalm 122:3]) is now eerily deserted. (Longman, Jeremiah, Lamentations (Understanding the Bible Commentary Series))
Though much has changed since the writing of Lamentations, some things in Jerusalem have remained constant. Harvey Cox (b. 1929) notes the irony:
Today, paradoxically, Jerusalem is hardly lonely, and she may now have too many lovers. In fact, her sadness is that so many people “love her to death.”...Today, as in the era of Jeremiah, it is not easy to separate the religious from the political conflicts that fuel disagreements about Jerusalem...The “Jerusalem question” has exasperated the international community for nearly a century...Today Jerusalem’s political status is still in question. (Cox and Stephanie Paulsell [b. 1962], Lamentations and the Song of Songs (Belief: a Theological Commentary on the Bible), 152-54)
This city will remain a focal point throughout book. Erhard S. Gerstenberger (b. 1932) sketches:
[A] phenomenon in Lamentations, except for chapter 3, is the focus on Jerusalem and Zion, with frequent female personifications of the city, so that her lamenting and pleading voice is quoted directly. The ancients quite easily gave voice and character to various entities...Cities...were incorporated symbols of the people living within the walls. In the ancient Near East they were governed and represented by the main deity of the settlement, often a goddess, like Inanna of Ur, or Ishtar or Isin. Some scholars suppose that personification of Jerusalem also has to do with divine representation. A few Akkadian laments are put into the mouth of the city-goddess, who has to flee and see her temple in shambles. In a similar way Jerusalem mourns the death and suffering of her inhabitants and the destruction of her edifices. (Gerstenberger, Psalms, Part 2 and Lamentations (Forms of the Old Testament Literature), 472)
The unit’s form is no more unique than its impetus. It fits within a genre known as city lament. Tremper Longman III (b. 1952) situates:
Lamentations is best understood as a corporate lament bemoaning the destruction of a city, that is, a “city lament.” As such, the book does not exist in a generic vacuum. There is a well-established genre of city laments known in particular from five compositions that derive from the period of the destruction of the Ur III dynasty (ca. 2100-2000 B.C.) at the hands of invaders from the east and the west. This destruction had a catastrophic effect on the minds of those who survived it. The highly developed and civilized kingdom was the result of a Sumerian renaissance after a period of Akkadian rule that may have considered itself impregnable from attack from the outside world. Ibbi-Sin, the last ruler of the dynasty (ca. 2028-2004 B.C.), actually started his reign in a relatively strong position, but soon he was under siege and was perhaps explanted by Ishbi-Irra of Mari...The destruction of Ur, its temples, and surrounding cities worked deep into the psyche of those who witnessed it. Indeed, five compositions survive that lament the fall of the city. (Longman, Jeremiah, Lamentations (Understanding the Bible Commentary Series))
John H. Walton (b. 1952), Victor H. Matthews (b. 1950) and Mark W. Chavalas (b. 1954) add:
As the fall of Jerusalem became a pivotal point in the history, theology and literature of Israel, the fall of Ur (to an army from the east) at the end of the Ur III Dynasty (about the year 2000) served in the ancient Near East as an illustration of the divine abandonment of a city, resulting in its destruction. The lamentations that memorialize the weeping and the theological reflection on those two great falls are preserved in their respective literatures. Two separate works lament the fall of Ur (known as The Lament over the Destruction of Ur and The Lament over the Destruction of Sumer and Ur). Other city laments exist for Nippur, Uruk, Eridu and Ekimar (though the last three of these are fragmentary). These date to the twentieth century B.C. Unlike biblical lamentations, each of the ancient Near Eastern works includes a decision of the gods to restore the city. Literarily they played a role in the attempts to legitimize a new dynasty...The major theme of these works is that the gods have abandoned the city, thus exposing it to destruction at the hands of the enemy. In poetic detail the distress of the population is described...This despair is reflected in the wondering questions of why they have been treated in this way by the gods and how long their condition will persist. When explanations are offered, the fall of the city is not blamed on offense but simply reflects the fact that change and the shifting of political power is inevitable. (Walton, Matthews, and Chavalas, The IVP Bible Background Commentary: Old Testament, 686)
J. Andrew Dearman (b. 1951) compares:
There are city limits in ancient Near Eastern literature, which are also related to the book of Lamentations...In some of them a prominent place is given to the patron goddess of the city, who mourns the fall of her city. Since there is no counterpart to the patron goddess in Judah (at least not among the circles responsible for the Old Testament), it is possible that the prominence given to personified Jerusalem as “Daughter...Zion” and the symbolic mother of the faithful is the Israelite counterpart to the broader ancient Near Eastern tradition of patron goddesses. Recognition of Jerusalem’s voice and personification is crucial to an adequate grasp of the book’s style and its message. (Dearman, Jeremiah, Lamentations (The NIV Application Commentary))
Lamentations’ personification of the city as a female is normative. Adele Berlin (b. 1943) informs:
The personification of a city as a woman is a common image in prophetic literature, with possible antecedents in Mesopotamian literature and successors in Greek literature—but nowhere is it developed more effectively than in the personification of Jerusalem in this chapter. Here a kaleidoscope of images turns quickly from a lonely widow, to a degraded princess, to a whore, to a rape victim, to a betrayed lover, to an abandoned wife. (Berlin, Lamentations: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 47)
This analogy complies with its Hebrew grammar. Paul M. Joyce (b. 1954) and Diana Lipton relate:
The personification of Zion as a woman characterizes the first two chapters of the book. It is a feature facilitated by the fact that ir (the Hebrew word for city) is feminine, and is a motif shared with some other biblical books (cf. J.F.A. Sawyer [b. 1938] 1989 on Isaiah). Parallels to the presentation of Jerusalem as a widowed city are to be found in other ancient Near Eastern literature (Chayim Cohen 1973). (Joyce and Lipton, Lamentations Through the Centuries, 27)
The transition is smooth. Adele Berlin (b. 1943) tracks:
Lamentations 1:1-11...[is] a portrait of Jerusalem, destroyed, shamed, and dejected. The picture opens with the unnamed city, sitting empty and alone, in contrast to the thriving metropolis she once was. The image of the city as widow leads to the idea of mourning and abandonment, and it evokes pity. But almost immediately a different set of associations impinges: this apparently pitiful woman had taken lovers, she had acted immorally, and she deserved her punishment. These ideas are not contradictory, but they generate a cognitive and emotional tension that is in play throughout the chapter. (Berlin, Lamentations: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 49)

Not surprisingly given its condition, the city assumes the posture of mourning. Leslie C. Allen (b. 1935) relates:

In the first line, sits describes a mourning posture. A parallel comes from the experience of Nehemiah who likewise “sat down and wept. For some days I mourned” (Nehemiah 1:4). (Allen, A Liturgy of Grief: A Pastoral Commentary on Lamentations, 35)
R.B. Salters parses this verb:
ישבה...Qal perfect 3rd feminine singular because ‘city’ is feminine. The perfect is to be understood in the sense of the present...The contrasting dirge-like images which follow make it probable that the poet here contrasts the present state of affairs (or at least, the image he wishes to convey) with the past. The verb can have the meaning ‘dwell’ (Psalm 133:1) or ‘remain’ (Genesis 24:55)—and according to the Syrohexapla margin, Symmachus [Second century] understood it as ‘remain’ (ἔμεινεν)—but the poet goes on to paint a picture of a grieving female figure; and sitting (on the ground) characterized ancient mourners (cf. Isaiah 47:1; Ezekiel 26:16). (Salters, Lamentations: A Critical and Exegetical Commentary (International Critical Commentary), 35-36)
The city finds itself isolated (Lamentations 1:1). It is characterized as “lonely”(ESV, NASB, NKJV, NRSV, RSV), “deserted” (CEV, NLT), “solitary” (ASV, KJV), “alone” (HCSB) or “empty” (MSG).

Fred Wood (1921-2010) and Ross McLaren (b. 1952) research:

The word translated deserted (Lamentations 1:1) comes from a Hebrew verb meaning “to be separate, solitary.” In this verse it is an adverb meaning “alone.” Looking at the barren and forsaken city, Jeremiah saw it as isolated, abandoned, and forgotten. His mind turned to a woman whose husband had died and left her alone in the world. (Wood and McLaren, Jeremiah, Lamentations (Holman Old Testament Commentary), 360)
R.B. Salters considers:
Although a noun meaning ‘isolation’, it is in the adverbial accusative position...The word is construed with ישב in Leviticus 13:46; Jeremiah 15:17; Lamentations 3:28. Rashi [1040-1105] interprets ‘bereft of inhabitants’. It may go a bit too far in that the poet later makes reference to priests and maidens on the scene (Lamentations 1:4), but his aim may have been to conjure up an image of desolateness (cf. Isaiah 27:10 regarding the isolation of a besieged city) in contrast with the grandiose past which he goes on to describe. This is the first of several examples of the poet’s tendency to exaggerate. (Salters, Lamentations: A Critical and Exegetical Commentary (International Critical Commentary), 36)
Abraham Ahuviah argues that this Hebrew term, bâdâd, is commonly associated with betach (“secure”) and carries a similar meaning. Thus, he argues that the opening verse of Lamentations should be rendered: “The city that was full of people, that dwelt securely, how like a widow has she become.” (Ahuviah, “How Lonely Sits the City that was Full of People,” Lam 1:1. Beth Mikra, 1979, 24(79), 423-425).

Xuan Huong Thi Pham (b. 1973) counters:

In the context of mourning, the word בדד in Lamentations 1:1a, with the following imagery of widowhood in Lamentations 1:1b, depicts loneliness and desertion rather than solitary security as suggested by Abraham Ahuviah. (Pham, Mourning in the Ancient Near East and the Hebrew Bible, 193)
Robin A. Parry (b. 1969) contextualizes:
The contrast between sitting alone and once being full of people suggests that “alone” here means that her many children (her citizens) are gone. She is childless! The fleeting image of the widow is not pressed, but it could possibly indicate the idea that her husband, YWHH, having abandoned her is like a dead husband. She is now in a very vulnerable position as she has no one who can act as her legal protector. The narrator is seeking to elicit the pity of the audience right from the start. (Perry, Lamentations (Two Horizons Old Testament Commentary), 43)
Though counterintuitive, corporate loneliness is a real possibility. Kamila Blessing (b. 1948) reveals:
A whole people can be alone. The term badad (“be alone”) enters forcefully into descriptions of Israel “alone” in an abandoned land. The people of Jerusalem were described thus during the Babylonian captivity, when most of the people had been deported. For example, Lamentations 1:1 begins, “How alone lies the city that was so great with people, how like a widow...she who had been a princess” (author’s translation). Israel in Babylon was alone in a related sense. (Blessing, Families of the Bible: A New Perspective, 140)
The desolation is accentuated all the more when compared to the city’s past glory, having been “full of people” (Lamentations 1:1b). Glory has passed and its vision and memory are fading quickly.

Kathleen M. O’Connor (b. 1942) asserts:

The city, once “great with people,” swollen with life like a pregnant woman is now alone like a widow (Lamentations 1:1b). The widow in ancient Israel was truly alone. (O’Connor, Lamentations & the Tears of the World, 20)
Frank Moore Cross (1921-2012) probes:
The expression rbty ‘m has traditionally been taken to mean “full of people” and been compared to rbt bnym ’mllh (I Samuel 2:5)...It has been argued that rbty must be taken as the familiar epithet rbt “lady, mistress” (Thomas F. McDaniel [b. 1931] 1968:29-31). The correspondence with rbt bgwym and especially śrty bmdynwt requires this understanding of rbty in my opinion, but I see no reason to exclude a play on alternate idiomatic meanings of rbt in the second colon. (Carol L. Meyers [b. 1942] and Michael Patrick O’Connor [1950-2007], “Studies in the Structure of Hebrew Verse: The Prosody of Lamentations 1:1-22), The Word of the Lord Shall Go Forth: Essays in Honor of David Noel Freedman [1922-2008] in Celebration of His Sixtieth Birthday, 136)
The wasted potential makes the blow all the more harsh. There is a sense that it did not have to be this way.

For Lamentations, the glass is not merely half empty but completely empty. And to make matters worse the glass remains to taunt its former fullness. It is like viewing an old family photo of a house decimated by deaths. Jerusalem finds itself the subject of dramatic, tragic before-and-after photos.

John M. Bracke (b. 1947) correlates:

The scene of reversal, of stunning loss, that these verses lay out is not unfamiliar to us. We know of the reality of which these verses speak. Television has brought into our living rooms poignant pictures of victims of tragedies revisiting what had once been sacred space for them. We have seen those who have survived a tornado or hurricane sifting through the scattered debris with anguish on their faces at the site that was once home for them. We have witnessed persons whose churches have been burned recounting with tears streaming down their cheeks how the smoldering rubble behind them was the place where marriages were celebrated, where infants were received into the church through baptism, and where precious dead were remembered. We have seen war refugees fleeing burning cities in long lines with what few possessions they could salvage strapped on their backs. In these scenes we have ourselves seen the great reversal of fortune described in these initial verses in Lamentations. The joy and glory of the former days are quickly lost and become fond memories of what will never be again. (Bracke, Jeremiah 30-52 and Lamentations (Westminster Bible Companion), 193)
Though on some levels the contemporary reader can relate, there are few analogies that capture the magnitude of pain felt by this one pummeling.

The bleakness of the city’s situation is no more apparent than in its opening exclamation (Lamentations 1:1a). The interjection is consistently rendered “how” (ASV, ESV, HCSB, KJV, NASB, NIV, NJV, NRSV, RSV) or is omitted (CEV, NLT). The prevailing translation does not capture the force of the Hebrew, better reflected in the Message’s paraphrase, “Oh oh oh”.

Hetty Lalleman corrects:

The first verse opens with a cry of lament that can be translated as ‘Alas!’ TNIV, NRSV and NKJV translate as How, but the Hebrew word is more powerful: ‘Alas! She sits alone – the city.’ (Lalleman, Jeremiah and Lamentations (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries, 336)
The book’s first word engages the reader and sets the tone for the entire work. The word is typical in elegies. Adele Berlin (b. 1943) scrutinizes:
The first word of the chapter, ’êkâ, signals the discourse of lament, as it does also in chapters 2 and 4 [Lamentations 2:1, 4:1]. It is an exclamation of despair that marks a sudden change from a glorious past to the degraded present (cf. Isaiah 1:21; Jeremiah 48:17; Ezekiel 26:17), and the nature of that change is described in the rest of Lamentations 1:1. The pāsēq in the Masoertic Text after ’êkâ, indicating a slight pause, suggests that the word stands slightly apart from what follows it. In that sense, ’êkâ introduces the chapter as a whole. (Berlin, Lamentations: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 49)
R.B. Salters responds:
The word with which the poet begins is generally thought to be an emphatic form of איך and is found elsewhere at Deuteronomy 1:12, 7:17; Isaiah 1:21 (1QIs reads איך); Jeremiah 48:18 etc., and in this book (Lamentations 1:1, 2:1, 4:1, 2). Hedwig Jahnow [1879-1944] (1923, 136) argues that it conveys desperation and may have been a common beginning to a lament. However, many laments do not begin this way, hence it may just have seemed particularly appropriate to this poet to begin to express the horror which follows. While the word can have an interrogative force (Deuteronomy 12:30; Jeremiah 8:8), it probably has more of an exclamatory function here—Alas! Although not repeated with each line, the force of איכה continues throughout the verse (cf. John Calvin [1509-1564]). H. Wheeler Robinson [1872-1945] (1936, 37-40; cf. BHK, BHS) argues that איכה is unstressed and stands separate from the first stitch, but in this he is not normally followed (cf. Claus Westermann [1909-2000] 1994, 112; Biblia Hebraica Quinta). (Salters, Lamentations: A Critical and Exegetical Commentary (International Critical Commentary), 35)
The word does protrude from the rest of the text as evidenced by its exclusion from the lament’s metrical structure (R.K. Harrison [1920-1993], Jeremiah & Lamentations (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries), 207).

The term is multi-faceted and conveys a number of sentiments. Kathleen M. O’Connor (b. 1942) elucidates:

With the alarming cry of a funeral dirge the narrator demands our attention in the poem’s opening verse. “How (’ēkāh) lonely sits the city once great with people!” (Lamentations 1:1a). The “how” is a bitter declaration that death has occurred, but as Naomi Seidman [b. 1960] (283) observes, it also implies interrogation—“How could this happen to beloved Zion?” “How is it possible even to speak of this destruction?” To convey the breath-stopping shock of the catastrophe, Seidman proposes the opening ’ēkāh “be pronounced with a catch in the throat.” Tragedy threatens to overcome speech, sobs interfere with words, and trauma pounds back expression as the book’s voices hover in tension between life-denying silence and the life-giving urge to speak. (O’Connor, Lamentations & the Tears of the World, 19-20)
In one word, Lamentations effectively relates the hopelessness and emotions of its historical setting. In fact, one of the book’s traditional titles is its first word. Tremper Longman III (b. 1952) surveys:
In antiquity, the book was referred to by its opening word ’eka (“how?”). The rabbis referred to the book as qinot, the Septuagint (Greek Old Testament) entitled the book Threni, and the Vulgate referred to it as Lamenta—all meaning “Lamentations.” (Longman, Jeremiah, Lamentations (Understanding the Bible Commentary Series))
Upon reflection, its opening exclamation is a fitting title for the book of Lamentations.

What historical catastrophes most closely parallel the significance of the fall of Jerusalem to its residents? Whose sustained greater loss, Job or Jerusalem’s inhabitants during the Babylonian invasion? What books are titled by their opening lines? How important is your city of residence to you? Have you ever frequented a ghost town? What institutions or places do you know who have seen better days? When has a song fully captured the tone of a momentous event? What do you lament? When has corporate lament been practiced in modern times? What are the advantages of public lament?

Lamentations is not typically a favorite text among preachers. The book is a brutally honest complaint or appeal to God that is told by people too broken to mitigate anything. Light is not easily found amidst the sea of Lamentations’ darkness.

Elizabeth Achtemeier (1926-2002) confesses:

We are uncomfortable with tears and lamenting aren’t we? If someone breaks into tears, we try our best to get her to stop crying and to smile again...We do not like sorrow. We either try to avoid it or attempt to do away with it...The scriptures, however, know better...The authors of the Bible make a wide place in their writings for the sorrows and sufferings and pains of human life, because they know that those are part of our daily living and that there is a word from God about those experiences too. (Achtemeier, “Lamentations 1:1-6”, Preaching and Reading the Old Testament Lessons: With an Eye to the New, Cycle C, 213)
As delicate as the subject is and though it is easier to ignore, abject loss must be addressed. Adele Berlin (b. 1943) notices:
The image of the city-woman in her abject state elicits both revulsion and pity. As we watch her, and the poet forces us to watch her, we are torn between ambivalent urges: we cannot bear to look but we cannot turn our eyes away. The more we look, the more we shame her by seeing that which should not be seen. But we must look, for the poet calls upon us to see what has happened to the city and to partake in her suffering. We becomes actors in the “drama” of this chapter. This chapter is a poetic reenactment of the rites of mourning, and we become mourners along with Jerusalem. (Berlin, Lamentations: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 48)
Lamentations’ opening line is a picture of giving voice to suffering and a window into the book’s intent. Leslie C. Allen (b. 1935) deduces:
The first word, ekhah in Hebrew, traditionally belonged to the funeral dirge and introduced a contrast between a grim present and a good past, a chasm that bereavement had created. Here too it introduces such contrasts. It is a shriek, a scream, “not the kind of scream that comes from fright, but the kind that comes from the deepest grief imaginable. It is a scream that comes when there are no words to express what you feel...It is a scream that rails against logic and fate and everything there is” (Ann Hood [b. 1956], 2008, 139). The Hebrew word is generally translated “how” but is better expanded into How terrible that...! in order to express its emotional intensity. In this case it tells us that the liturgy reader, who here has the role of reporter, is not like a television or radio reporter sent to cover a story and soon to speed away from the scene. He is a member of the mourning community and immersed in the story he tells. His task is to pastorally lead the congregation in giving expression to an overwhelming grief that is equally his own. (Allen, A Liturgy of Grief: A Pastoral Commentary on Lamentations, 35)
In its shift from cry to analogy in its opening line, the book scores a significant achievement. F.W. Dobbs-Allsopp (b. 1962) demonstrates:
The movement from the sequence’s opening primordial scream of “Eikhaaah!” (which is as much a token of glossolalia or pure sound—the kind of preferential ejaculation to which language is so often reduced by extreme suffering—as a semantically weighted word [NRSV’s “How”]) to the articulate speech of the rest of the poetry (“lonely sits the city...”) similarly well symbolizes these poems’ reclamation of language from the wordless garble of anguished speech (cf. Lamentations 2:1, 4:1). And the regaining of voice is fictively and spectacularly enacted in the figure of personified Zion, whom readers literally witness coming to voice over the course of the first two poems, at first slowly and fitfully in abrupt eruptions of entreaty (Lamentations 1:9c, 11c), but eventually with more assurance and fortitude emblematic of her reemergent vitality (Lamentations 1:12-22, 2:20-22). (Dobbs-Allsopp, Lamentations (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 33)
In attaching intelligible words to a horrible predicament, Lamentations provides a pastoral service.

While the suffering is unmitigated within the context of the passage, the text itself is embedded in a larger tradition which celebrates the faithfulness and mercy of God. Lamentations fits within the biblical corpus because it exhibits trust in a deity who permits humans the freedom to honestly grieve and expose the depths of their sorrow. In its venting, the book clings to God as the only hope its readers have left (Job 13:15) and trusting in God’s power rather than human strength is always appropriate.

There is a difference between grief and lament as lament assumes an audience. Lamentations’ underlying presumption is that God is listening. And this assumption is correct.

What topics would you rather ignore than address? What situations have you experienced that were too bleak to sugar coat? Who has given voice to your concerns? To whose suffering can you give voice? Do you have faith that God is listening to your lamentations?

“Healing must always seek to give voice to suffering, and the greater the range of words and meanings we have at our disposal, the clearer the voice becomes.” - Iona Heath in British Medical Journal, 2000 January 8; 320(7227), p. 125