Lamentations Chapter 4 – When Gold Lost Its Shine

                                                                            hoto by Ben White on Unsplash

So, like, I was sittin' with this Bible again, open on my lap, tired and dusty and feelin’ like the air don’t move much in the room, and I started reading Lamentations chapter 4 and it just hit me, like heavy bricks fallin from the old roof of a broken temple somewhere. It ain't like the first time I read it, nah, this time it felt heavier like a truth I didn't wanna see but I gotta face it cause it screamin in my soul. Like how the gold become dim? That’s how the chapter starts. Just like that: “How is the gold become dim!” And I just sat there like yeah... yeah, I know what that feels like.

See, sometimes the stuff that used to shine in your life don’t shine no more. The things that was precious, the things that was once lifted high and admired by folks – now layin low, tossed aside, dull, forgotten. And it ain’t even about gold like money all the time, but it’s the gold of people’s character, the gold of the priest and prophets, the gold of a nation that once stood for somethin real good and pure, now so corrupted and broken down, the people don’t even know what they losin till it's too late.

It talkin bout the sons of Zion that was comparable to fine gold. That’s beautiful, ain’t it? But then sayin they’re now counted as earthen pitchers, the work of the hands of the potter. I think that’s sayin they got downgraded. Real bad. From gold to clay, from somethin precious to somethin disposable almost. And ain’t that how life be sometimes when sin creeps in quiet like a whisper in the night, and then suddenly boom! everything’s wrecked and nothin look the same anymore. You used to walk proud, now you just tryna survive.

The next verses, they just… ugh, I don’t even know how to talk bout it proper, it’s rough. Babies starving. Moms not able to feed they own children. Can you imagine that? And the tongue of the sucking child cleaveth to the roof of his mouth for thirst… that image haunt me. Make me think of every mother’s cry that go unheard, every child whose hunger never gets fed. The cruelty of the siege that made people become shadows of what they was, turnin even kind mothers into people who do unthinkable things just to survive, like the verse sayin mothers boiled their own children… Lord, have mercy. I can’t wrap my head round that without feelin sick.

And I think what this chapter’s doin is, it’s layin bare the ugly truth. Not to shock us but to make us face it. Like yo, this what sin, and disobedience, and pride, and refusin to listen to God bring about. Jerusalem used to be beautiful. Now it’s weepin, starvin, burnin, crushed under its own weight of wrong choices.

It says the punishment of the daughter of my people is greater than the punishment of Sodom. SODOM, y’all. That city that got burned with fire from the heavens. And now Jerusalem sufferin worse? That’s deep. Cause Sodom was overthrown in a moment, but Jerusalem's pain is long and drawn out. That’s worse in some ways, that long slow suffering where hope just drip away drop by drop.

And you can feel the sadness in the writer’s voice too, like he ain’t just angry or shocked. He broken. Maybe even feelin guilty a little too, cause he know it didn’t have to be this way if they had just listened. But now the nobles are unrecognizable. Their skin cleaves to their bones. They who once wore scarlet now embrace dunghills. The mighty have fallen for real.

The prophets and priests… whew. They supposed to be holy, set apart, but now the people avoid them like the plague. “They cried unto them, Depart ye; it is unclean; depart, depart, touch not.” You see that? The spiritual leaders become the disgrace. That's got me thinkin about today too, like when spiritual leaders fall from grace cause they lived double lives and people get hurt, real bad. And then no one trust nobody no more. That trust take forever to rebuild, if ever.

And then in verse 17, it talk about vainly looking for help from a nation that cannot save. That’s another slap. Like, Israel thought Egypt or someone else might come help, but nobody came. Sometimes we put hope in the wrong people, wrong systems, wrong things, thinkin they’ll rescue us but they ain’t got the power. We look to the world when we shoulda looked to God. And the eyes fail from watchin the horizon waitin for someone to show up and save the day. But no one come. Silence. Desert. Dust.

“Our persecutors are swifter than the eagles of the heaven.” That line hit me hard too. Like there ain’t even time to run, trouble catches up quick. They hunted them on the mountains, laid wait in the wilderness. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere safe. The fear must’ve been constant. A life lived in terror. That’s what judgment look like when it come full force.

And verse 20, oh man. “The breath of our nostrils, the anointed of the Lord, was taken in their pits.” That’s about the king. The one they thought was God’s chosen, the one they hoped would protect them. But even he couldn’t save 'em. And they said, “we shall live among the heathen under his shadow.” Even the king is brought low, taken captive. The last bit of hope – gone. Snatched.

And then suddenly… in verse 21 it shift. Not gently either. It almost feel sarcastic, like bitter irony. “Rejoice and be glad, O daughter of Edom, that dwellest in the land of Uz.” Like yeah go ahead, laugh now. You think you safe, you think you got away clean while we sufferin. But wait. Cause the cup will come to you too. Your turn is comin. Judgment don’t skip nobody. Even the ones watchin and mockin gonna drink from the same bitter cup. That's God sayin justice gonna be served fully, in due time.

And it ends with that strange line – bittersweet kinda. "The punishment of thine iniquity is accomplished, O daughter of Zion; he will no more carry thee away into captivity..." Like okay, enough. You’ve suffered enough. It’s almost like a sigh. Like maybe, just maybe, the worst is over. Maybe now healing can start. Maybe.

But y’all… this chapter hurt. It really do. Not just cause of the graphic horror and the suffering, but cause it mirror stuff in our world too. It mirror cities fallin apart, families starvin, trust broken, leaders fallin, people puttin hope in all the wrong places. It’s ancient words but they echo today. And that’s why I sit here, heavy-hearted. Cause we still got a chance, I think. Maybe we ain’t past the point of no return. Maybe we can still turn back, still learn from this pain.

Lamentations chapter 4 ain’t just history. It’s a mirror. It’s a warning. It’s a cry. It’s a broken song singin of what was lost and what could’ve been saved. It remind me that beauty can fade if it ain’t rooted in truth, and that comfort can become calamity if we forget the source.

And yeah, I’m no preacher. I don’t got fancy words or perfect thoughts. But I know this: when the gold becomes dim, it’s time to check what we treasuring. When the city burns, we gotta ask what built it in the first place. When we cry out and no help come, maybe it's cause we was lookin in the wrong direction all along.

Maybe the shine can come back someday. Maybe after the tears and the ashes and the pain. But only if we face it. Only if we stop pretendin everything’s fine when it ain’t. And only if we come back to the One who never stopped watchin even when we walked far, far away.