We are weary, given no rest

I am reckoned as one in the tomb.

Psalm 88:5

 

Artwork by Saint Meinrad monk Fr. Donald Walpole, O.S.B.
This piece is placed in front of the reliquary
in the Archabbey Church for Good Friday and Holy Saturday.
(Fr. Donald, by the way, turns 94 next week).

LAMENTATIONS 5:1-22

Remember, O Lord, what has befallen us;
   look, and see our disgrace!
Our inheritance has been turned over to strangers,
   our homes to aliens.
We have become orphans, fatherless;
   our mothers are like widows.
We must pay for the water we drink;
   the wood we get must be bought.
With a yoke on our necks we are hard driven;
   we are weary, we are given no rest.
We have made a pact with Egypt and Assyria,
   to get enough bread.
Our ancestors sinned; they are no more,
   and we bear their iniquities.
Slaves rule over us;
   there is no one to deliver us from their hand.
We get our bread at the peril of our lives,
   because of the sword in the wilderness.
Our skin is black as an oven
   from the scorching heat of famine.
Women are raped in Zion,
   virgins in the towns of Judah.
Princes are hung up by their hands;
   no respect is shown to the elders.
Young men are compelled to grind,
   and boys stagger under loads of wood.
The old men have left the city gate,
   the young men their music.
The joy of our hearts has ceased;
   our dancing has been turned to mourning.
The crown has fallen from our head;
   woe to us, for we have sinned!
Because of this our hearts are sick,
   because of these things our eyes have grown dim:
because of Mount Zion, which lies desolate;
   jackals prowl over it.

But you, O Lord, reign for ever;
   your throne endures to all generations.
Why have you forgotten us completely?
   Why have you forsaken us these many days?
Restore us to yourself, O Lord, that we may be restored;
   renew our days as of old—
unless you have utterly rejected us,
   and are angry with us beyond measure.

"Come to me all you who are weary
and are burdened, and I will give you rest."

Matthew 11:28