“The rains will come”
Meditation – Saturday, April 19, 2025
Lamentations 3:1-9, 19-24 (Forward, p. 80) CEV p. 835
Reading over this passage from Lamentations puts me in mind of something that takes place in many desert areas of the world. Observed generally they seem to be utterly devoid of any growth, much less any green vegetable or flowers. But should it rain, then, voila, greenery seems to pop up from nowhere and the deserts blooms and blossoms as if by magic.
In the opening verses of today’s passage Jeremiah’s life seems devoid of life or hope or a future. He feels hemmed in on every side, afflicted and punished by none other than God. He is the very epitome of sorrow and desolation.
But then he remembers something—it is like that dose of rainfall in the desert. He remembers the loving kindness of God, a kindness or mercy is constant and that is renewed every morning, and, in light of this, he feels that he can trust God and depend upon Him. Indeed, he says that the Lord is all that He needs. In fact, in the next verses he says, “The Lord is kind to everyone who trusts and obeys him. It is good to wait patiently for the Lord to save us” (verses 25-26). And so, things seem pretty barren, pretty arid, pretty much without hope just now, but yes, the rains will come. God never, ever lets us down in the end. Thanks be to God.
Forward notes: “He has made my flesh and my skin waste away, and broken my bones; he has besieged and enveloped me with bitterness and tribulation; he has made me sit in darkness like the dead of long ago” (verses 4-6).
“Today, we lament. It would be fitting to wail. Of all the readings appointed for today, this one from Lamentations says it best. On this day of waiting and watching, we weep that our Lord’s dead body is abandoned in the tomb. When asked about the worst way to die, Sherwin Nuland, a medical
doctor and author of How We Die, said simply and without hesitation, ‘Alone.’ Sitting in the darkness, like the dead of long ago, our Lord lies. And we grieve.
“We must explore this dreadful territory, lamenting and facing the sacred spaces of unknowing together. We know there will be light in the darkness, but as we stand on the sacred ground of this day, let us not forget the promise at the end of this passage, ‘The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.’”
Moving Forward: “Who can you remind this day that the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases?”