What do you think?
Rate this book
Lamentations and the Tears of the World
Explores the book of Lamentations and its meaning for faith and ministry today. The five poems that comprise Lamentations tell of the community's pain in the aftermath of Jerusalem's destruction.
172 pages, Paperback
First published February 1, 2002
About the author
Kathleen M. O'Connor
29 books12 followersKathleen M. O'Connor is author of several books including The Wisdom Literature (Liturgical Press, 1990), Jeremiah: Pain and Promise, and Lamentations and the Tears of the World. She is the William Marcellus McPheeters Professor of Old Testament, emerita, at Columbia Theological Seminary, Decatur, Georgia, and also taught at the Maryknoll School of Theology in Ossining, New York. She is active in the Catholic Biblical Association of America and the Society of Biblical Literature.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
April 12, 2020
Kathleen O’Connor’s insightful study of Lamentations is both orderly in its presentation and incredibly timely for our world today, despite already being almost twenty years old. O’Connor spends the first half of the book explicating in traditional commentary format each of the five chapters of Lamentations. In the second half she offers more of a social commentary than a textual or verse-by-verse commentary, but it is still wholly based on the text. The second half of the book covers ideas such as what O’Connor calls the “theology of witness” (or, the ministry of presence via witnessing someone else’s pain); the absence of either the presence or voice of God in Lamentations; the seemingly abusive character of God as described in Lamentations; and the way that Lamentations can serve as a prayer to heal our broken world.
O’Connor herself would claim that the thesis of her book centers around her identification of the main theme of Lamentations as a theology of witnessing: “The many speaking voices in the poetry beg God to be their witness, to see them, pay attention to them, and receive them in their pain. God never responds in Lamentations, but the book itself becomes a comforting witness . . . [because] it mirrors pain back to those who suffer and, in the process, brings them out of isolation into community.” O’Connor goes on to describe the fact that the narrator of the second poem in Lamentations becomes the comforter to the sufferer in God’s absence. By witnessing the pain of the sufferer and not denying it or turning away from it, the narrator serves to comfort the one suffering. O’Connor here presents a repackaged idea of the ministry of presence (a synonym of what she calls theology of witness), with Lamentations as the focus and inspiration for her terminology.
And O’Connor isn’t wrong. In fact, she’s timely by today’s standards and may have been ahead of the curve for the time she wrote this book, 2002. In Chapter 7, “The Power of the Missing Voice,” O’Connor talks about God’s absence not only in the book of Lamentations but in other instances of real-life suffering in the world in more recent times. Her theology is inclusive as she invokes Cornel West, James Cone, and bell hooks in order to bolster her argument that Lamentations is “a house for sorrow and a school for compassion” that “teaches resistance, liberates passions, and gives us prayers for the world’s tears.” Without these lessons from Lamentations, O’Connor says, we are at risk of denying our pain and the pain of others, which will limit our ability to participate in authentic worship of God because “crushed spirits cannot worship unless that worship speaks from the pain.”
O’Connor has written a perfectly acceptable commentary in the first half of the book, but the second half, in which she expounds on the text in a less academic and more social manner, is where she really comes alive and grips the reader with her profound insights. Her social commentary is mainly focused on American culture as observed in the United States in the early 2000s, but it is spot on. She identifies several key aspects of our culture that prevent Americans—even within the church—from healthily expressing our sorrow and negative emotions, whether faith-related or otherwise. She ties our repressed emotive state to our culture of individualism, our reliance on capitalism, and our obsession with materialism and personal achievement.
She paints a bleak picture but does not leave us without hope; instead she shows us how we can turn to Lamentations to heal ourselves and then turn outward to heal the world, and this work is not only important—it is necessary. “Until those of us who care for the well-being of the earth and its peoples come to terms with our own pain, we are unlikely to be able to receive the suffering of others on their terms. Until we, the people of the only remaining superpower, recognize our own hidden despair, we will not be able to receive the tears of the world and to see our complicity in them.” Where Lamentations can assist with this, O’Connor says in what I believe to be the thesis of her entire book, seems paradoxical and oxymoronic but is in fact vital: "The book of Lamentations seems like the opposite of true worship. It attacks more than praises, doubts more than hopes. Filled with anger and outrage at God, its voices verge toward blasphemy. Yet more than anything else, Lamentations is an act of worship. It is prayer from within and for the world’s brokenness. It can teach us how to pray. . . . Its forms and potent speech can speak on our behalf and show us how to compose our own prayers of lament in fearful times. It can encompass the world’s enormous atrocities and its small tragedies. It can show us how to stand before God without pretense. By allowing us to be broken, angry, and tear-drenched before God, it can melt our hearts and become a vehicle of prayer for the wounds of the world."
There is only one place where I disagree with a conclusion of O’Connor’s, and it’s simply a matter of my cynicism versus her optimism. She diagnoses part of the problem in U.S. culture as ignorance: “we [U.S. Americans] do not understand that we live within the network of global relations. We do not see how our power and wealth depend upon and contribute to powerlessness and poverty elsewhere.” On the contrary, my view is far less gracious, but as a citizen of the United States in 2020, eighteen years after this book was published, I have seen our country and culture become far more ugly than probably anyone in 2002 ever imagined was possible. Therefore, I do not think our problem is that we do not understand our connection to the global network. Rather, our problem is that we do not care—an issue that probably goes back to O’Connor’s earlier point about us not attending to our own wounds. Our repression of our emotions and our refusal to lay bare our wounds in order to let them heal contributes to our tribalistic attitude as Americans—even, sadly, within the church.
Overall, O’Connor has written a book of which she can be proud, and which has stood the test of time. Her reflections on Lamentations and on the act of lament are more relevant and timely today than they have ever been—despite the fact that her words were certainly timely when she published them in 2002, in the shadow of 9/11. Her biblical exegesis is sound, and her social critiques are poignantly accurate. May we take her advice and heal our own wounds so that we can begin to be good witnesses and healers for the tears of the world.
O’Connor herself would claim that the thesis of her book centers around her identification of the main theme of Lamentations as a theology of witnessing: “The many speaking voices in the poetry beg God to be their witness, to see them, pay attention to them, and receive them in their pain. God never responds in Lamentations, but the book itself becomes a comforting witness . . . [because] it mirrors pain back to those who suffer and, in the process, brings them out of isolation into community.” O’Connor goes on to describe the fact that the narrator of the second poem in Lamentations becomes the comforter to the sufferer in God’s absence. By witnessing the pain of the sufferer and not denying it or turning away from it, the narrator serves to comfort the one suffering. O’Connor here presents a repackaged idea of the ministry of presence (a synonym of what she calls theology of witness), with Lamentations as the focus and inspiration for her terminology.
And O’Connor isn’t wrong. In fact, she’s timely by today’s standards and may have been ahead of the curve for the time she wrote this book, 2002. In Chapter 7, “The Power of the Missing Voice,” O’Connor talks about God’s absence not only in the book of Lamentations but in other instances of real-life suffering in the world in more recent times. Her theology is inclusive as she invokes Cornel West, James Cone, and bell hooks in order to bolster her argument that Lamentations is “a house for sorrow and a school for compassion” that “teaches resistance, liberates passions, and gives us prayers for the world’s tears.” Without these lessons from Lamentations, O’Connor says, we are at risk of denying our pain and the pain of others, which will limit our ability to participate in authentic worship of God because “crushed spirits cannot worship unless that worship speaks from the pain.”
O’Connor has written a perfectly acceptable commentary in the first half of the book, but the second half, in which she expounds on the text in a less academic and more social manner, is where she really comes alive and grips the reader with her profound insights. Her social commentary is mainly focused on American culture as observed in the United States in the early 2000s, but it is spot on. She identifies several key aspects of our culture that prevent Americans—even within the church—from healthily expressing our sorrow and negative emotions, whether faith-related or otherwise. She ties our repressed emotive state to our culture of individualism, our reliance on capitalism, and our obsession with materialism and personal achievement.
She paints a bleak picture but does not leave us without hope; instead she shows us how we can turn to Lamentations to heal ourselves and then turn outward to heal the world, and this work is not only important—it is necessary. “Until those of us who care for the well-being of the earth and its peoples come to terms with our own pain, we are unlikely to be able to receive the suffering of others on their terms. Until we, the people of the only remaining superpower, recognize our own hidden despair, we will not be able to receive the tears of the world and to see our complicity in them.” Where Lamentations can assist with this, O’Connor says in what I believe to be the thesis of her entire book, seems paradoxical and oxymoronic but is in fact vital: "The book of Lamentations seems like the opposite of true worship. It attacks more than praises, doubts more than hopes. Filled with anger and outrage at God, its voices verge toward blasphemy. Yet more than anything else, Lamentations is an act of worship. It is prayer from within and for the world’s brokenness. It can teach us how to pray. . . . Its forms and potent speech can speak on our behalf and show us how to compose our own prayers of lament in fearful times. It can encompass the world’s enormous atrocities and its small tragedies. It can show us how to stand before God without pretense. By allowing us to be broken, angry, and tear-drenched before God, it can melt our hearts and become a vehicle of prayer for the wounds of the world."
There is only one place where I disagree with a conclusion of O’Connor’s, and it’s simply a matter of my cynicism versus her optimism. She diagnoses part of the problem in U.S. culture as ignorance: “we [U.S. Americans] do not understand that we live within the network of global relations. We do not see how our power and wealth depend upon and contribute to powerlessness and poverty elsewhere.” On the contrary, my view is far less gracious, but as a citizen of the United States in 2020, eighteen years after this book was published, I have seen our country and culture become far more ugly than probably anyone in 2002 ever imagined was possible. Therefore, I do not think our problem is that we do not understand our connection to the global network. Rather, our problem is that we do not care—an issue that probably goes back to O’Connor’s earlier point about us not attending to our own wounds. Our repression of our emotions and our refusal to lay bare our wounds in order to let them heal contributes to our tribalistic attitude as Americans—even, sadly, within the church.
Overall, O’Connor has written a book of which she can be proud, and which has stood the test of time. Her reflections on Lamentations and on the act of lament are more relevant and timely today than they have ever been—despite the fact that her words were certainly timely when she published them in 2002, in the shadow of 9/11. Her biblical exegesis is sound, and her social critiques are poignantly accurate. May we take her advice and heal our own wounds so that we can begin to be good witnesses and healers for the tears of the world.
February 20, 2018
The argument of O'Connor's book is that "Lamentations can be a resource for the work of reclaiming our humanity, for breaking through our denial, personal and social, and for teaching us compassion. Lamentations urges us to do the difficult work of reclaiming our passion for life, for justice and empathy. Without such work we will never be able to hear the cries of the poor in our neighborhood or around the globe. Our own wounds, hidden and festering, will continue to enslave us, absorbing all our energies in fruitless denial that blocks our ears and blinds our eyes." O'Connor opens a door to a new understanding of Lamentations, and why it might be helpful in today's world. At the same time she shows the importance of sifting critically through the words, applying what we know about context when reading ancient text. I will come back to this book again.
April 11, 2022
I read this book for my Megillot course under Dr. Jennifer Matheny at Nazarene Theological Seminary. Here is a review of the book I wrote for class:
"Lamentations & The Tears of the World" is divided into two major sections. Part I is composed of chapters 1-6 and is a commentary on the text of Lamentations. Chapter 1 provides an introduction, while the next five chapters are each dedicated to a chapter of Lamentations. Part II of the book contains O’Connor’s broader reflections on Lamentations. She focuses her conversation on how the book speaks into our lives, particularly focusing on her context, middle to upper-class United States and Canada, believing it to be “immoral to interpret texts for lives of people other than one’s own” (xv). She also considers in this section how our modern reading can bring insight to the text. O’Connor explicitly states the goal of her book is to argue that Lamentations is “a resource for the work of reclaiming our humanity, for breaking through our denial, personal and social, and for teaching us compassion” (xiv). She wants the text to move us to a healthier expression of the emotions surrounding our experiences and those of others, and she believes we cannot exercise true compassion on those around us if we do not break through the denial of our own emotions.
The first part of her book is a helpful dive into each of the five poems of Lamentations. She emphasizes that these poems are communal cries about a communal devastation, the destruction of Jerusalem. It is an account, at least in part, of the breakdown of the relationship between YHWH and the people of Israel. She also highlights the various voices that speak throughout the five poems: the narrators, daughter Zion, the strongman, and the people. The overarching view of the voices in the text seems to be that the destruction is by the hand of God; it is divine judgment. The voices are keeping with the perspective also expressed in other Old Testament books. They generally agree that because of Zion’s unfaithfulness to God, God has abandoned her and caused the devastation of her people and city. There are several times in her assessment of the text that I felt O’Connor may have stepped beyond what the text is communicating. One of these instances is where she claims the narrator in chapter two “charg[es] God with infidelity, lack of integrity, and loss of self-control” (33). While the narrator of chapter two certainly is very candid in his assessment of how God in his “burning anger” acted “like an enemy” (32), the “infidelity” and “loss of integrity” O’Connor sees is only every attributed to Zion in Lamentations. Additionally, God is never depicted as losing his self-control. In contrast, he is described as explicitly acting according to his plans (2:8). I would argue that the text makes it clear God is very much in control of his actions, and while incredibly severe, they are deliberate, forewarned, and in response to the wrongdoing of the people.
Chapter three of Lamentations is a surprising articulation of hope that presents “interpretive challenges” (44). O’Connor admits that this hope is grounded in the demonstration of God’s faithfulness in “many places in the Old Testament” (50). We can see clearly in the way the speakers base their thinking on the footing of the rest of the Old Testament that they are not out to produce shocking new theology or undermine thoroughly Israelite beliefs. However, again in this chapter of Lamentations, O’Connor reads the strongman’s accusations against God as proclaiming that “God is unfaithful, and God’s very character is in question” (54). I find O’Connor stretching just beyond the text again. The speaker is clearly upset at the devastation. He is making it clear that it is the activity of God, but in contrast to how O’Connor reads this, one could read it as a proclamation of God’s faithfulness to the people and to his promises. God is willing to follow through on his words. God is willing to do the hard thing, punish the one he loves, because he promised that he would as a consequence for their wickedness. Rather than God being unfaithful by causing destruction to fall on the people, he has in fact demonstrated his faithfulness no matter what. God’s character is not called into question but is affirmed. In the epilogue of the book, O’Connor lays out how Second Isaiah acts as a response to the book of Lamentations. Although separate from the text of Lamentations, and therefore allowing Lamentations to cry out with appropriate space, it provides for us an interpretive lens by which we can understand God’s faithfulness which chapter three of Lamentations speaks of. Second Isaiah proclaims God as comforter and restorer of the shattered people depicted in Lamentations.
O’Connor also presses the significance of God’s silence throughout the book of Lamentations. I agree with her that this is an important point. It leaves the conflict expressed by the speakers unresolved, and it leaves the reader hanging, unsure what to do with that they have read. She notes that the silence of God shows the dignity afforded the human voice. It affirms that human sorrow, anger, and confusion have a place in the discourse of the community of God. It “prevents us from sliding prematurely over suffering toward happy endings” (86). Denial of human emotions, she rightly points out, is extraordinarily damaging at an individual and communal level. I have seen this illustrated firsthand in the life of my wife who engaged in emotional repression most of her life which led to an eating disorder, exercise addiction, and eventually devastating chronic pain in her neck. The only way she began to experience relief was when she started engaging in the practice of “journal speak” where she would express her strongest feelings through journaling, no matter how disturbing they were to name. This expression of her emotions is bringing freedom and the opportunity for new life to her. O’Connor’s assertion that denial is the original sin of humanity is a fascinating idea, one which I do not find significant opposition to in my own reading of scripture. Regardless of whether it is humanity’s original sin, it certainly is a potent form of brokenness that must be overcome for the healing power of God to reach the depths of our depravity. I agree with her emphasis and her belief that Lamentations should be incorporated even further into the liturgy of the church and be used as a central model for the place of honest lament in Christian practice.
"Lamentations & The Tears of the World" is divided into two major sections. Part I is composed of chapters 1-6 and is a commentary on the text of Lamentations. Chapter 1 provides an introduction, while the next five chapters are each dedicated to a chapter of Lamentations. Part II of the book contains O’Connor’s broader reflections on Lamentations. She focuses her conversation on how the book speaks into our lives, particularly focusing on her context, middle to upper-class United States and Canada, believing it to be “immoral to interpret texts for lives of people other than one’s own” (xv). She also considers in this section how our modern reading can bring insight to the text. O’Connor explicitly states the goal of her book is to argue that Lamentations is “a resource for the work of reclaiming our humanity, for breaking through our denial, personal and social, and for teaching us compassion” (xiv). She wants the text to move us to a healthier expression of the emotions surrounding our experiences and those of others, and she believes we cannot exercise true compassion on those around us if we do not break through the denial of our own emotions.
The first part of her book is a helpful dive into each of the five poems of Lamentations. She emphasizes that these poems are communal cries about a communal devastation, the destruction of Jerusalem. It is an account, at least in part, of the breakdown of the relationship between YHWH and the people of Israel. She also highlights the various voices that speak throughout the five poems: the narrators, daughter Zion, the strongman, and the people. The overarching view of the voices in the text seems to be that the destruction is by the hand of God; it is divine judgment. The voices are keeping with the perspective also expressed in other Old Testament books. They generally agree that because of Zion’s unfaithfulness to God, God has abandoned her and caused the devastation of her people and city. There are several times in her assessment of the text that I felt O’Connor may have stepped beyond what the text is communicating. One of these instances is where she claims the narrator in chapter two “charg[es] God with infidelity, lack of integrity, and loss of self-control” (33). While the narrator of chapter two certainly is very candid in his assessment of how God in his “burning anger” acted “like an enemy” (32), the “infidelity” and “loss of integrity” O’Connor sees is only every attributed to Zion in Lamentations. Additionally, God is never depicted as losing his self-control. In contrast, he is described as explicitly acting according to his plans (2:8). I would argue that the text makes it clear God is very much in control of his actions, and while incredibly severe, they are deliberate, forewarned, and in response to the wrongdoing of the people.
Chapter three of Lamentations is a surprising articulation of hope that presents “interpretive challenges” (44). O’Connor admits that this hope is grounded in the demonstration of God’s faithfulness in “many places in the Old Testament” (50). We can see clearly in the way the speakers base their thinking on the footing of the rest of the Old Testament that they are not out to produce shocking new theology or undermine thoroughly Israelite beliefs. However, again in this chapter of Lamentations, O’Connor reads the strongman’s accusations against God as proclaiming that “God is unfaithful, and God’s very character is in question” (54). I find O’Connor stretching just beyond the text again. The speaker is clearly upset at the devastation. He is making it clear that it is the activity of God, but in contrast to how O’Connor reads this, one could read it as a proclamation of God’s faithfulness to the people and to his promises. God is willing to follow through on his words. God is willing to do the hard thing, punish the one he loves, because he promised that he would as a consequence for their wickedness. Rather than God being unfaithful by causing destruction to fall on the people, he has in fact demonstrated his faithfulness no matter what. God’s character is not called into question but is affirmed. In the epilogue of the book, O’Connor lays out how Second Isaiah acts as a response to the book of Lamentations. Although separate from the text of Lamentations, and therefore allowing Lamentations to cry out with appropriate space, it provides for us an interpretive lens by which we can understand God’s faithfulness which chapter three of Lamentations speaks of. Second Isaiah proclaims God as comforter and restorer of the shattered people depicted in Lamentations.
O’Connor also presses the significance of God’s silence throughout the book of Lamentations. I agree with her that this is an important point. It leaves the conflict expressed by the speakers unresolved, and it leaves the reader hanging, unsure what to do with that they have read. She notes that the silence of God shows the dignity afforded the human voice. It affirms that human sorrow, anger, and confusion have a place in the discourse of the community of God. It “prevents us from sliding prematurely over suffering toward happy endings” (86). Denial of human emotions, she rightly points out, is extraordinarily damaging at an individual and communal level. I have seen this illustrated firsthand in the life of my wife who engaged in emotional repression most of her life which led to an eating disorder, exercise addiction, and eventually devastating chronic pain in her neck. The only way she began to experience relief was when she started engaging in the practice of “journal speak” where she would express her strongest feelings through journaling, no matter how disturbing they were to name. This expression of her emotions is bringing freedom and the opportunity for new life to her. O’Connor’s assertion that denial is the original sin of humanity is a fascinating idea, one which I do not find significant opposition to in my own reading of scripture. Regardless of whether it is humanity’s original sin, it certainly is a potent form of brokenness that must be overcome for the healing power of God to reach the depths of our depravity. I agree with her emphasis and her belief that Lamentations should be incorporated even further into the liturgy of the church and be used as a central model for the place of honest lament in Christian practice.
June 8, 2021
In this book, Kathleen O'Connor goes through each chapter in Lamentations to explore the lament and grief expressed in each poem and draw connections and lessons for how we could approach lament today. She also dives into some tough questions towards the end of the book, like if our narrative is that God is responsible for the destruction of Jerusalem, does that raise questions about God's goodness.
One of my favorite concepts in this book is what O'Connor calls narrative wreckage. Through Lamentations, Judah is wrestling with not just the physical destruction of their city, but also the destruction of their idea of themselves and God.
One of my favorite concepts in this book is what O'Connor calls narrative wreckage. Through Lamentations, Judah is wrestling with not just the physical destruction of their city, but also the destruction of their idea of themselves and God.
November 5, 2020
Very thoughtful and considerate approach to a commentary on Lamentations. I do have grievances over the author's flirtation with an almost open-theism claim that God lacks the ability to stop evil. However her brief essays at the beginning and end of the book are very worthwhile for grasping Lamentations as a whole, and the very process of lament.
January 8, 2023
I'm glad I dared read Lamentations in time of 2022, and Katherine o Connor's searching commentary.
October 14, 2025
A lot I don't agree with and a lot that is superfluous if you are reading commentaries alongside it, but enough gems to make it worth reading/using.
May 5, 2026
finally got around to this exegesis and did not disappoint
August 13, 2016
Beautifully written, short book. She has a great turn of phrase and offers some unique perspective on Lamentations and the role of coming to terms with one's own pain and despair as a necessity for one who desires to empathetically comfort others (e.g., seeing pain, hearing cries, speaking truthfully about it, etc.). She does a good job highlighting/arguing for lamentations as a necessary part of the reconciliation and restoration process (e.g., race relations in the U.S., South Africa, etc.).
Her interpretations can go in some unique directions at times due to a self-professed hermeneutic of suspicion. She ends up taking an interesting view of the letter itself (e.g., really putting a lot of wait on the different 'vantage points'/characters) and also on the 'character of God' (e.g., with regard to the problem of evil, she prefers to see God as vulnerable and somewhat powerless).
Overall, a very helpful read with some wonderful insights, especially for 21st century Americans.
Her interpretations can go in some unique directions at times due to a self-professed hermeneutic of suspicion. She ends up taking an interesting view of the letter itself (e.g., really putting a lot of wait on the different 'vantage points'/characters) and also on the 'character of God' (e.g., with regard to the problem of evil, she prefers to see God as vulnerable and somewhat powerless).
Overall, a very helpful read with some wonderful insights, especially for 21st century Americans.
January 29, 2011
Very insightful book. It helped me a lot in understanding Lamentations.
February 4, 2015
Great exploration of the book of Lamentations. Way better than I could have ever expected.
Read
February 1, 2018- O'Connor's reading of "Lamentations": Israel was mistreated by Yahweh, and so the wrathful God removes His voice from this book to give space to the cry of Daughter Jerusalem. Hence whenever in history a certain people, race or sex are oppressed, it is necessary for their restoration that they be allowed to vent their distress without any input from the oppressor.
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews