Chapter 4 of Eicha continues the lamentation over the destruction of Jerusalem, but here the author draws a piercing comparison: between Jerusalem and Sodom. Seemingly, Sodom is the ultimate symbol of wicked depravity, yet the verse declares that the iniquity of the daughter of my people is greater than the sin of Sodom. Later in the chapter, the author depicts the state of the righteous and the Nazirites who were in Jerusalem prior to the destruction and what became of their fate, the death by starvation that is harsher than death by the sword, and the horrifying low point of compassionate women cooking their own children. Let us examine the verses in order.
וַיִּגְדַּל עֲוֺן בַּת־עַמִּי מֵחַטַּאת סְדֹם הַהֲפוּכָה כְמוֹ־רָגַע וְלֹא־חָלוּ בָהּ יָדָיִם׃ - For the iniquity of the daughter of my people is greater than the sin of Sodom, which was overthrown in a moment, and no hands fell upon her.
The Lechem Dim'ah explains: The author here laments that the iniquity of Israel was greater than the sin of Sodom. Yet seemingly, we find that the very same sins were present in both: Sodom corrupted justice, and in Jerusalem as well - "turning justice to wormwood," "Your princes are rebellious, and companions of thieves; everyone loves bribes and pursues rewards." There was a grave problem of perverting judgment and justice. Indeed, the prophet Yechezkel says: "Behold, this was the iniquity of your sister Sodom" - meaning, Sodom had already become a sister to you, as your sins and theirs were identical. If so, why does the verse state "For the iniquity of the daughter of my people is greater"? After all, you yourself say she is our sister, equal to us!
Rather, Israel was expected to learn from their father Avraham. The Holy One, blessed be He, says: "Shall I hide from Avraham what I do?", and why? "For I know him, that he will command his children and his household after him, that they keep the way of Hashem, to do righteousness and justice." You have a forefather who taught you to practice righteousness and justice, and therefore for you, it is not merely a "chet" (an inadvertent sin), but an "avon" (an intentional iniquity). What was considered less severe for Sodom and termed a "chet", for you is deemed an "avon". Furthermore, Sodom had no Torah, whereas you possessed the Torah - how could one commit such deeds when one has the Torah? Therefore: "For the iniquity of the daughter of my people is greater than the sin of Sodom."
At first glance, it seems that what happened to Sodom was far harsher than what happened to Jerusalem, yet now we are told that the deeds of Jerusalem were worse. On this, Rashi explains: "Her punishment proves concerning them that her iniquity was greater than that of Sodom." The calamity that befell the people of Israel is itself the proof that our iniquity was graver. For Sodom - "overthrown in a moment" - its affliction lasted but an instant and it was overturned; "and no hands fell upon her" - enemy hands did not grapple with her, but she was overturned in a single moment by angels. Here, however, the enemy arrived, torturing, afflicting, and causing dreadful and horrific suffering, and consequently what we endured was far worse than what occurred in Sodom.
In the Siftei Chachamim, this is explained further: When a master pours out his wrath upon his servant, he commands that he be killed specifically by one of the sinner's enemies, so that the servant may suffer from the joy of his enemy over him. That is, if one wishes to punish someone thoroughly, one does not execute him in a single instant; rather, specifically the one who hates him kills him - and then the torment is far greater. Moreover, he commands that he die an unnatural, agonizing death, subjecting him to prolonged pain before dying. Not a swift execution, but commanding that he be tortured, his flesh raked with iron combs, tormenting and burning him so that he suffers before death. Such was Israel's affliction: vast, protracted, and inflicted by their enemies. It turns out that it would have been preferable to die in an instant like Sodom rather than continue suffering for so long - as we will see later in the chapter: "The hands of compassionate women have boiled their own children," and "Better off were those slain by the sword than those slain by hunger." Furthermore, "no hands fell upon her" - Hashem commanded that it be overturned in an instant by angels, whereas here the hands of enemies fell upon us: they came, took all they could take, and inflicted torment and torture.
The Lechem Dim'ah offers an additional insight: In what way was the iniquity of the daughter of my people greater than the sin of Sodom? There was an extreme measure present in Jerusalem that did not exist in Sodom. Regarding Sodom it says, "Behold, this was the iniquity of your sister Sodom: pride, fullness of bread... and she did not strengthen the hand of the poor and needy." They did not assist the poor, but it does not say that they cooked their own children with their hands. In Jerusalem, however, "The hands of compassionate women have boiled their own children." Thus, what was said of us is far more severe than what was said of them.
The Targum explains "and no hands fell upon her" - meaning that they had no prophets, in the sense of "the hand of Hashem was upon me." Sodom did not experience "the hand of Hashem"; there was no prophet there. By contrast, in Jerusalem - "I sent to you all My servants the prophets, rising early and sending them" - yet they did not listen. Consequently, the iniquity of the daughter of my people is far graver.
The Midrash states: It is written regarding the tribes of Judah and Benjamin what was not written regarding Sodom - for Sodom, no remnant was left, while for these, a remnant was left. Rather, Sodom was 'overthrown in a moment' because their hands were never extended in mitzvot, whereas Israel extended their hands in mitzvot. At first glance, this Midrash is puzzling: after all, we said that Israel's iniquity was graver, and we said that their punishment was more severe - yet judged by the end result, it turns out that Sodom's punishment was actually far harsher! Sodom was overturned in an instant, without lingering torment and without prolonged suffering, over in a single second; while with us, there were three years of siege, agony, and suffering. That is true. But judged by the end result - where is the typical Sodomite today? Buried somewhere beneath the ruins of Sodom, in sulfur and salt. And where are the exiles of Jerusalem? 'And you who cling to the Lord your God are all alive today.' Those who emerged from Jerusalem - that is us. For the Ten Tribes were lost to us, and we await the Mashiach to restore them; who, then, constitutes Klal Yisrael today? Judah and Benjamin. It is widely accepted, as noted by Rabbi Ratzabi, that Ashkenazi Jewry descends largely from Benjamin, while Yemenite and Sephardic communities descend from the tribe of Judah - there is even a Yemenite beit din named 'Kahal Yehuda' based on this tradition, and we have sources showing they were exiled as early as the First Temple era.
Thus, the final outcome demonstrates that our condition is far better: we still exist, while Sodom was completely overturned. This raises the question: you argued that our sin was graver, and you explained that in a certain sense the punishment was harsher because we suffered - yet nonetheless, we endure and they do not. There was suffering, there was hardship, but we survived and they perished.
The Midrash answers: the explanation is that we possess something they did not. In sins - it may be that ours were graver; but in mitzvot - we observed mitzvot, while they did not. We possess merits that they lacked. This is the meaning of 'these extended their hands in mitzvot, while those did not.'
The Dubno Maggid offers a wonderful parable. A certain wealthy man owned an expansive mansion, was exceptionally hospitable, and allowed people to lodge in his rooms; he was truly a good-hearted man. However, occasionally he grew fed up with a guest who caused trouble, acted improperly, made noise, or played loud music. Having a short fuse, the host would quickly lose his temper, grab all the guest's belongings, and dump them outside. The guest would return from work - only to find all his things packed out on the street, the door locked, and entry denied.
Once, a very wealthy traveler came to stay with him, likely out of necessity since there were no hotels in the vicinity. This wealthy man did not arrive with a small suitcase, but with all his worldly possessions; it took him three whole days just to unpack and arrange them. He, too, occasionally irritated the host and did things that provoked his anger - yet the host never cast him out. People were astonished and asked him: What is this favoritism? Why do you treat him with kid gloves? He replied: Look, when an ordinary guest causes trouble, I have no patience; I take his belongings and throw them out. And what is there to carry? A tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush, a pair of pajamas - that is it, all done. But with this man, just clearing out his room would take me an entire week. It cannot be done in three minutes of tossing bags out and slamming the door. And what happens? By the time I even begin to plan how to clear the room, my anger has already cooled down, and the fiery temper is extinguished.
The nimshal is clear: Sodom and Gomorrah were utter wicked sinners, and when their verdict was sealed - 'overthrown in a moment', the Holy One, blessed be He, cast them away on the spot. Why? Because there was nothing to hold back the decree, no merits, no mitzvot, nothing left behind to advocate for them. In contrast, the Jewish people possess merits that protect them; consequently, the Holy One, blessed be He, cannot, as it were, annihilate us swiftly. In the end, while He sends afflictions after afflictions, He cannot destroy us entirely - we have an abundance of merits; and in the meantime, the Attribute of Mercy is aroused. Regarding this it is said: 'And it shall come to pass that he who is left in Zion and remains in Jerusalem shall be called holy.' And that is what is stated here: 'The iniquity of the daughter of my people is greater than the sin of Sodom' - yet Sodom was 'overthrown in a moment,' because 'no hands turned upon her'; they never extended their hands in mitzvot, and so they could be wiped out instantly. But the Jewish people the Holy One, blessed be He, cannot eradicate in a moment, and gradually, as He afflicts us, the Attribute of Mercy awakens and pleads our cause before Him.
זַכּוּ נְזִירֶיהָ מִשֶּׁלֶג צַחוּ מֵחָלָב אָדְמוּ עֶצֶם מִפְּנִינִים סַפִּיר גִּזְרָתָם׃ - Her Nazirites were purer than snow, they were whiter than milk; their bodies were ruddier than rubies, their form was like sapphire.
The Lechem Dim'ah explains: Come and see, in Sodom not even ten righteous men could be found, whereas here the city was filled with Nazirites and holy people - Nazirites pure and more refined than snow, bright and cleaner than milk. And because they were exceptionally handsome, they took the vow of Naziriteship so that their evil inclination would not overpower them.
This is much like the Nazir from the south, regarding whom Shimon HaTzaddik recounted: 'I saw that his locks were arranged in beautiful curls, and I said to him: What did you see to destroy this magnificent hair of yours? He replied: I was a shepherd for my father in my town, and I went to draw water from the well. I gazed at my reflection in the water, and my evil inclination surged within me. I said to it: Wicked one, do you seek to drive me out of the world? I vow that I will dedicate this hair to Heaven!' We see that, on the contrary, when a person is handsome and the yetzer hara finds fertile ground to tempt him, it is praiseworthy for him to take a Nazirite vow upon himself and shave his hair for the sake of Heaven. With Yosef, we know that everything began when he started curling his hair - the Holy One, blessed be He, said: You act this way? I will incite the bear against you, as occurred with Potiphar's wife, Zuleikha.
So there were such righteous, strikingly handsome men who took Nazirite vows upon themselves - 'her Nazirites were purer.' Yet despite all this, see how it did not protect Jerusalem. In Sodom, had there been ten righteous men, it would have been saved; here there were Nazirites purer and whiter than milk - yet this did not avail to keep Jerusalem from being destroyed.
The Torat Chessed explains that "Her Nazirites were purer than snow" refers to the young children: their hair would be shorn, and their mothers would weigh it against gold, silver, and pearls, bringing the equivalent value up to Jerusalem. We find similarly with Avshalom, who had long hair and was exceptionally handsome; when it became too heavy for him, he would lighten it with a razor, take the value of the hair by weight, and donate it to the Beit HaMikdash in Jerusalem. "They were whiter than milk" refers to the infants who were fair-skinned from the abundance of milk their mothers had (and soon we will see in the next verse how "Their appearance became darker than soot, they were not recognized in the streets"). And lest you say they were physically frail by nature, regarding this it is said, "Their form was like sapphire" - they were as strong as sapphire stone, which cannot be broken due to its immense hardness.
According to this approach that the Nazirites are the infants, it can be explained in two ways: One aspect is that they had hair like Nazirites, just as young children grow their hair until the age of three. Another aspect is that infants are called Nazirites because they are separate (menuzarim) from all sin and iniquity.
The Alon Bachut explains: "Her Nazirites were purer than snow" refers to those who would drink melted snow. And who drinks snow? Those who cannot drink wine, namely the Nazirites. And since they did not drink wine, they would drink milk and drink snow, and through this they became refined and radiant. How so? The Gemara relates that Abba Shaul was a burier of the dead, and he could recognize the bones of people - for later they would gather the bones and place them in burial caves - and he could identify from the bones someone who had drunk wine, because his bones turn black, just as one sees with the bones of an alcoholic. Therefore, the Nazirites, who drank no wine, had bones that "were purer than snow, whiter than milk," "their body was ruddier than rubies," and "their form was like sapphire," because they drank only snow and milk.
חָשַׁךְ מִשְּׁחוֹר תָּאֳרָם לֹא נִכְּרוּ בַּחוּצוֹת צָפַד עוֹרָם עַל־עַצְמָם יָבֵשׁ הָיָה כָעֵץ׃ - Their appearance became darker than soot, they were not recognized in the streets; their skin shriveled on their bones, it became dry as wood.
The Alon Bachut explains that the author of the lament describes here the complete opposite of the preceding verse: those who were purer than snow - "their appearance became darker than soot"; and those who were whiter than milk - "they were not recognized in the streets" because of their extreme darkness. And instead of "their body was ruddier than rubies" - now "their skin shriveled on their bones." What does tzafad ("shriveled") mean? Rashi explains: shriveled and wrinkled over the flesh. Ibn Ezra explains that it means clinging - the skin clung to the bones. Anyone who has seen horrifying photographs from the Holocaust knows: you do not see legs, you see actual sticks, skin clinging to the bone with no flesh at all. "It became dry as wood."
The Lechem Dim'ah explains that the lamenter is describing the righteous here, who even as they were starving to death "were not recognized (nikru) in the streets" - spelled with a kaf, from the root of recognition (heker) rather than estrangement (nechar). That is to say: they were dying of hunger, yet they would not go to beg for bread or knock on doors, out of their refined nature. They preserved their inner dignity and refused to knock at the doors of the wealthy.
He further explains: "They were not recognized in the streets" - there was no one who knew them to do them a kindness, as in the blessing, "Blessed be he who took notice of you (yehi makircha baruch)." When a person has acquaintances, they assist and help him; but they had no acquaintances in the streets to help them, nor anyone to take them into their home and feed them. Furthermore, even when one walked in the streets begging for bread, he found no acquaintance who would acknowledge him and offer aid. From the intensity of the famine, "their skin shriveled on their bones, it became dry as wood." And concerning this, the liturgical poet lamented: "Alas, the flock marked for slaughter are scattered from their pastures, their faces have gathered blackness and roll in the mire, all who see them feign unfamiliarity in the streets; their appearance became darker than soot, they were not recognized in the streets."
טוֹבִים הָיוּ חַלְלֵי־חֶרֶב מֵחַלְלֵי רָעָב שֶׁהֵם יָזֻבוּ מְדֻקָּרִים מִתְּנוּבֹת שָׂדָי׃ - Better off were the victims of the sword than the victims of famine, who pine away, pierced through for lack of the produce of the field.
The Lechem Dim'ah explains: Those slain by the sword, who died in an instant by a blade thrust into their bodies, were better off than those who died of famine. And why? "For they pine away, stricken through" - because due to starvation their bellies burst open. And what caused this? "For want of the fruits of the field" - they craved to eat from the yield of the field and had nothing to eat; and when a person craves food and has none, it causes their belly to rupture, looking as though someone had stabbed them.
Others explain, as the Rid wrote, that "from the fruits of the field" means that out of sheer hunger they went out and ate whatever the field yielded - going out to the field and consuming whatever came to hand. And what was actually there? There was no real food, only thorns and briars growing in the field. This is what caused them to "pine away, stricken through," for ultimately what was in their stomachs oozed out - those very thorns and briars they had eaten from the field's yield; the thorny harvest of the field was what burst from their stomachs.
Targum Yonatan explains the opposite: Those slain by the sword were better off, for when pierced through, they gushed with whatever they had eaten of the fruit of the field, whereas the famine-swollen victims had bellies empty of food. According to the Targum, "for they flow out, pierced through" refers to the sword victims: when a sword was plunged into someone's belly, all the produce of the field poured out of it - simply put, he had eaten, and at least died full. In contrast, the famine victim died because he had nothing to eat, which is a horrific and unnatural death.
Rashi explains that the famine victims were bloated from the aroma of the field's produce. How so? The enemies, who were exceptionally cruel, would roast meat outside the walls in order to torment the Jewish people during the siege. As is well known, when one neighbor barbecues, the entire neighborhood catches wind of it; the aroma travels far and wide. We find similarly with Moshe Rabbeinu: the people of Israel were hesitant to circumcise themselves. Moshe said: We are offering the Korban Pesach. They began roasting it, and our Sages teach that the Holy One, Blessed be He, caused the scent of Gan Eden to waft through all of Egypt. Everyone came and asked: Where is that meat? He told them: Perform a circumcision and you will receive it, for "no uncircumcised person shall eat of it" - and immediately they agreed and were all circumcised. The scent of roasted meat spreads across vast areas. Here too, the enemies roasted meat over herbs outside the walls, the scent reached the famine-bloated people, their bellies ruptured, and their entrails spilled out. This was a degrading death, far harsher than dying by the sword: those killed by the sword did not suffer such a humiliating death of a ruptured belly, but were stabbed and died instantly.
The Lechem Dim'ah adds another explanation: "For they bleed out, pierced through" - that is, those slain by the sword, even though they bleed out pierced through, were still better off than the famine victims. It is as if the verse said "even though": Better were those slain by the sword, even though they bleed out pierced through. And should one argue that a sword victim suffers indignity, bleeding out and punctured, while a famine victim shows no visible external wound since he simply starved to death - nevertheless, those slain by the sword were better off. It was far better to die in a single instant by the sword than to endure the agonizing, protracted torments of starvation.
There is a profound explanation for why death by famine is considered the most unnatural and agonizing death, as Scripture says, "Better were those slain by the sword than those slain by famine." Simply understood, a starving person wastes away slowly. But one of the great Torah leaders, likely Rav Yisrael Salanter, explained this from a deeper conceptual perspective. He said: All throughout life, a person learns how to die. The entire purpose of a person's labor throughout his days is not for this world, but for the moment when he reunites with the Infinite. Therefore, a person must direct his deeds so that this final moment is worthy and fitting.
For this reason, the holy books teach that there are special prayers pleading that the Satan not confuse a person in his final moments. It is cited in holy works that in a person's last moments, the Satan says to him: Deny God, and I will give you life, I will leave you alone. We therefore have a special prayer asking that one's mind remain clear in his final moments - because the moment one wavers and denies God, the Satan immediately claims his soul and proclaims: "Look, in his final moments, this man denied Hashem!" Thus, there is immense importance in how a person departs this world: with peace of mind, complete faith in Hashem, accepting the yoke of Heaven, and reciting the Viduy (confession). It is a supreme virtue for a person to conclude the song of his life by cleaving to the Infinite, Blessed be He.
A story is told of a wealthy man who was a moneylender and an enormous miser, never passing up the slightest profit. As he lay on his deathbed in his final moments, someone approached him and said: "I urgently need a loan of a thousand dollars. How much interest will you charge me?" He managed to whisper: "Two... two percent" - and breathed his last. The rabbi present remarked: "He was greater than Rabbi Akiva; Rabbi Akiva's soul departed with the word Echad ('One'), while this man's soul departed with 'Two'!"
Based on this, we can understand: A person's mission is to leave this world sanctifying the Name of Heaven and cleaving to the Infinite, Blessed be He. How tragic it is, said that great sage, when all that flashes before a person in his final moments, in the last seconds before departing the world, is the image of a cold drink - that becomes the pinnacle of his imagination's desires! A person who has not eaten for ten days has his mind flooded with visions of food. Instead of occupying his final moments with reflections on his life - whether he lived it righteously, reciting Viduy, Keriat Shema, and accepting the yoke of Heaven - he is consumed by the thought of a cold drink. How tragic it is to die such a death. That is why death by famine is the harshest death of all.
יְדֵי נָשִׁים רַחֲמָנִיּוֹת בִּשְּׁלוּ יַלְדֵיהֶן הָיוּ לְבָרוֹת לָמוֹ בְּשֶׁבֶר בַּת־עַמִּי׃ - The hands of compassionate women have boiled their own children; they became food for them in the destruction of the daughter of my people.
The Allon Bachut explains: those very hands that nurtured the infants to raise them, raising them in delights and pampered luxury - now they cooked them, "to be their nourishment" (lihyot levarot lamo), so that the mother would have something to sustain her soul in the famine. And "barot," according to Rashi, is an expression of food, as in "and David did not eat" (velo barah David) and "to bring David food" (lehavrot et David), an expression of eating. The children "were food for them" - they became their sustenance.
And what brought this about? "At the shattering of the daughter of my people" (beshever bat ami). So immense was the ruin of the Jewish people that compassionate women turned cruel toward their own children. And their actions were worse than what happened in Shomron, where - as recounted in II Kings chapter 6 - when Yehoram walked along the wall, two women came crying out to him: We have a legal dispute before you. What happened? There was a terrible famine and nothing to eat, and we agreed that yesterday we would eat my son, and today my friend's son; yesterday we ate my son, and today she has hidden her child and refuses to give him up.
Yehoram heard this and was exceedingly grieved, tore his clothes, revealing the sackcloth underneath, and said: "May God do so to me and more also, if the head of Elisha the son of Shaphat remains on him today" - asking why he did not pray over this dire plight. In the end, Elisha delivered the famous prophecy, that by tomorrow a se'ah of fine flour would sell for a shekel and two se'ahs of barley for a shekel at the gate of Shomron, and it came to pass just as the prophet foretold. Yet there, you see that at least one of them hid her child; whereas here, "the hands of compassionate women boiled their own children" - they did not hide their children, but rather all of them cooked their children.
The Lechem Dim'ah explains: "The hands of compassionate women" - with their very own hands they would cook their children. Some commentators explain that this does not mean, Heaven forbid, that they killed their children and cooked them - although some do explain that they indeed did so, reasoning that there was no point in letting the child suffer the agony of starvation - but rather it refers to children who had already died, whose bodies they cooked. And this food also served them as a meal of condolence (se'udat havra'ah). It is horrific even to contemplate: the moment her child died, she entered mourning, and as a mourner she was required to eat the se'udat havra'ah - the first meal eaten after the burial of a relative. And what was her meal of condolence? The body of the child. Horrifying to contemplate. "The hands of compassionate women boiled their own children; they became food (levarot) for them" - they, the children, became the havra'ah meal for them, for the mothers.
The verse is further explained in light of the account related in the Gemara concerning that pious man, Mar Ukva, who along with his wife would toss coins to a poor man through the doorway of his home and walk away. Once, the poor man resolved to find out who was throwing money to him and vanishing. One day, Mar Ukva and his wife went and threw the coins through the door hinge, but the poor man was already waiting; when he heard the sound, he immediately unbolted the door. Hearing someone at the door, they fled at once, and he chased after them - who is putting money here for me? This surely is not the communal charity fund, who are they? They reached a corner where an oven stood - a large oven - and climbed inside. There were still burning coals and heat left in the oven from previous baking, and Mar Ukva's feet began to scorch. His wife said to him: Place your feet upon mine, and no harm will befall you; and he did so.
Mar Ukva felt disheartened: How can it be that my wife's merits surpass mine - my feet are burning while hers are immune to the fire, fulfilling "when you walk through fire you shall not be scorched"? The Gemara relates that she told him not to be disheartened. Look first at what a truly great woman she was: an ordinary woman might have said to her husband, "Well, do you see? You think yourself righteous? Look who holds the merits here!" But she said nothing of the kind. On the contrary, she encouraged him, knowing that her husband was a tzaddik. She told him: When a poor person comes to me, my charity is more immediate, for I give him bread. A starving man with nothing to eat who receives bread can sit down and eat immediately. But when you give him money, he must go buy wheat, grind it, knead it, bake it, and that takes time; even if he goes to buy bread, it takes time. With your charity, his benefit is not immediate, but with mine, the benefit is immediate; he enjoys it and eats on the spot.
Based on this story, we can explain the verse: The prophet says, come and see the bitterness - those very compassionate women who always gave the poor man food ready to eat were the ones forced to cook their own children. "Compassionate women" - who, whenever a poor person arrived, brought him a cooked, ready meal. And now, whom did they cook? Their own children. These righteous, charitable women who always acted with mercy toward the destitute - and we know that whoever performs acts of loving-kindness, the Holy One, blessed be He, shows them loving-kindness in return - yet here, not only was kindness withheld from them, but they were forced to cook their children during the famine: "they became food for them." A state of wrath arose here that defied all logic and inverted the divine measure: not the usual way where the merciful receive mercy, but rather, despite being compassionate women, they suffered this horrifying fate.
Notice as well that the word rachmaniyot (רַחֲמָנִיּוֹת) appears with a meteg beneath the resh. One does not read rachmaniyot hurriedly; rather, the resh is slightly prolonged - ra-chama-niyot. The Yemenites certainly know this, but Sephardim also prolong it slightly. This prolongation expresses compassion in the superlative: they were not merely mildly sympathetic, but exceptionally compassionate women - and nevertheless, they did not receive kindness, but boiled their own children.
כִּלָּה ה' אֶת־חֲמָתוֹ שָׁפַךְ חֲרוֹן אַפּוֹ וַיַּצֶּת־אֵשׁ בְּצִיּוֹן וַתֹּאכַל יְסֹדֹתֶיהָ׃ - Hashem has spent His fury, He has poured out His fierce anger, and He kindled a fire in Zion that consumed its foundations.
The Lechem Dim'ah explains: The author of the lamentation says, come and see the magnitude of the calamity. Sometimes we see the fury of the Holy One, blessed be He, go forth against us to destroy, and there is great wrath, yet the Holy One, blessed be He, as it were, does not exhaust His fury; rather, midway the wrath subsides: there is a plague and it ceases, there is wrath and it is halted; the Holy One, blessed be He, does not let the fierce anger run its full course. But here - "Hashem has spent His fury, He has poured out His fierce anger." At times "He does not stir up all His wrath," but here He aroused all His fury and poured out His entire fierce anger. And the proof: "and He kindled a fire in Zion that consumed its foundations" - He kindled a fire in Zion and it consumed all its foundations, as the enemy said, "Raze it, raze it, to its very foundation!" Even the foundations were uprooted, as it were - total destruction, from the foundation to the root.
The Allon Bachut offers another explanation, which can be understood in light of Chazal's teaching that the Holy One, Blessed is He, sought to destroy the Beit HaMikdash without harming the righteous. But then the Attribute of Justice began to prosecute, arguing that they had not sacrificed their lives for the defense of the Torah. This is what is alluded to here: "And kindled a fire in Zion" - it is written that the Holy One, Blessed is He, sent six men to kindle fire in Zion, those six angels with weapons of destruction in their hands, with the intention of setting Jerusalem ablaze. But in the end, "and it consumed her foundations." And who is the foundation? The tzaddik, as it is said, "And a righteous person is the foundation of the world" (ve-tzaddik yesod olam). Originally the fire was sent against the wicked, but whom did it ultimately strike? "And it consumed her foundations" - the tzaddik, the foundation of the world. And as Chazal expounded on the verse, "If fire goes forth and finds thorns" - why does the fire go forth? Because there are thorns, meaning wicked people. And who is consumed first? "And a stack of grain is consumed" - not the thorns, but rather the Holy One, Blessed is He, takes the righteous first; the calamity strikes the righteous first.
The Ahavat Tziyon adds: In the next verse it says, "The kings of the earth, all the inhabitants of the world, did not believe that an adversary and an enemy could enter the gates of Jerusalem" - meaning that the destruction here was supernatural. And when we see something occur in an unnatural manner, it is surely understood that the Holy One, Blessed is He, has, as it were, exhausted His wrath, and from now on only good awaits us. Thus, there is an expression here of longing and an understanding that everything has already concluded, and killah connotes completion: Hashem has exhausted His wrath and there is no more anger left; as it were, whatever He had to mete out He has already unleashed, and therefore He will no longer continue to afflict us.
This is akin to what Chazal expounded on the verse, "A psalm of Asaph: O God, nations have entered into Your inheritance" - a psalm?! The Gemara asks: It should have said, "A lamentation of Asaph"; what is there to sing about here? The answer is: since Hashem exhausted His wrath upon the wood and the stones, from now on He will say "enough" to our troubles. In Hashem exhausting His wrath, it is as if to say: that is it, the terrible phase has ended, and now the phase of consolations begins.
Based on this, they also explained what was said regarding David: "A psalm of David, when he fled from Absalom his son." There too the Gemara asks: A psalm of David? It should have said, "A lamentation of David" - what are you singing about when your son is pursuing you and seeking to kill you? The Gemara answers: Since the Holy One, Blessed is He, had told him, "Behold, I will raise up evil against you out of your own house," David said: perhaps it will be a slave, who will have no pity on me; once it was revealed to him that it was his son, he recited a psalm. Yet this seems astonishing: Did this son actually have pity on him? He was worse than a slave - he violated his father's concubines and sought every way to murder his father David. His being a son did not lead him to pursue him with greater mercy; rather, he pursued him ruthlessly, like a slave and like a stranger.
Rather, the Ritva explains: once King David saw that the calamity arrived in such an extreme manner - just as we explained regarding "exhausted His wrath," that there is an unnatural dimension here - he understood that this ordeal would serve as an atonement for him, and from here on everything would turn toward the good, toward good life and peace. When a person witnesses calamity without bounds, it is a sign that with this the ordeal is brought to a close, and from this point onward things will begin to be good. So too here: since the destruction was so far beyond human reason, and suddenly what was neither expected nor imagined transpired with such severity, such an event reveals Divine Providence, and shows that with this the matter has ended, and from now on there will be only good life and peace.
In this passage, the author of the lamentations teaches us three truths. First, that the gravity of a sin is measured by the stature of the one who knows: what in Sodom was called a "sin" (chatat), for the children of Abraham who received the Torah and heard the prophets is an "iniquity" (avon). Second, that it was precisely the merits and mitzvot in our hands that prevented instantaneous destruction, so the calamity was drawn out - and within that prolongation, the Attribute of Mercy was awakened, until "he who is left in Zion and remains in Jerusalem shall be called holy," and in the final outcome, Sodom is gone while we endure. And third, that even amidst the depths of these horrifying descriptions - the Nazirites who were blackened, the agonizing death from famine, the compassionate women whose devastation turned them cruel, and the fire that consumed the foundations of Zion - lies an embedded point of comfort: "Hashem exhausted His wrath," connoting completion. When a calamity exceeds all natural bounds and every measure, it is a sign that with this it has reached its end, and from this point onward, the consolations begin.