חַֽסְדֵ֤י יְהוָה֙ כִּ֣י לֹא־תָ֔מְנוּ כִּ֥י לֹא־כָל֖וּ רַחֲמָֽיו׃
In this verse from Lamentations 3, amid the ruins of Jerusalem and the ashes of despair, the poet utters a declaration of enduring hope. Embedded within this line is a profound grammatical structure that transforms negation into affirmation, despair into resilience. We will explore the double negative construction paired with perfective verbs—a syntactic choice that enshrines the eternal continuity of divine mercy.
This is not merely a theological statement—it is a linguistic triumph where aspect and negation collide to deny finitude itself.
Negation That Denies Death: The Structure of Unending Love
Let’s isolate the core structure:
> כִּי לֹא־תָמְנוּ / כִּי לֹא־כָלוּ
>
This dual negative construction—כִּי לֹא־ repeated twice—creates a rhythmic emphasis on what does not occur. The verbs תָמְנוּ and כָלוּ both derive from roots meaning “to end” or “to cease,” yet their placement in a negative perfective form generates a paradox: a negated end becomes an affirmation of eternity.
We will focus on how double negation with perfective verbs functions not as simple denial but as grammatical immortality.
תָמְנוּ – The Negated End of Steadfast Love
Let’s begin with the first negative clause:
> כִּי לֹא־תָמְנוּ חַסְדֵי יְהוָה
>
Word | Part of Speech | Function |
---|---|---|
כִּי | Conjunction | For |
לֹא־תָמְנוּ | Negative + Verb (Qal perfect, third person masculine plural) | have not ended |
חַסְדֵי יְהוָה | Noun construct chain + divine name | The steadfast love(s) of the Lord |
The verb תָמְנוּ (from the root תםם) typically means “to be complete” or “to end.” In prose, it might signify finality. But here, its negation with לֹא creates a denial of conclusion. Grammatically, it says: “The steadfast love of the Lord has not ended”—yet the syntax implies: “It cannot end.”
This is not a temporal claim alone. It is an ontological assertion: the nature of divine love is such that it resists cessation.
כָלוּ – The Refusal of Finality
Now the second clause:
> כִּי לֹא־כָלוּ רַחֲמָיו
>
Word | Part of Speech | Function |
---|---|---|
כִּי | Conjunction | For |
לֹא־כָלוּ | Negative + Verb (Qal perfect, third person masculine plural) | have not ceased |
רַחֲמָיו | Noun + pronominal suffix | His mercies |
The verb כָלוּ (from כלל or כלו) means “to finish,” “to consume,” or “to perish.” Again, negated by לֹא, it denies not just a past event but the possibility of future termination. The perfective form—normally marking completion—becomes a vehicle for denying completion.
This is a poetic inversion: the perfective tense, which in prose would imply finality, is used here to reject finality. The negation turns the verb into a shield against annihilation.
Double Negation as Grammatical Immortality
Let’s compare the two negative clauses:
Clause | Root | Literal Meaning | Grammatical Nuance |
---|---|---|---|
כִּי לֹא־תָמְנוּ | תםם | For they have not ended | Denies the possibility of conclusion |
כִּי לֹא־כָלוּ | כלו | For they have not ceased | Denies the possibility of exhaustion |
The double negation here is not redundant. Each verb carries a distinct shade of meaning:
◦ תָמְנוּ implies a structural end (like a story concluding).
◦ כָלוּ implies exhaustion (like a supply running out).
Together, they deny both finitude and depletion. The syntax constructs a theological shield: God’s mercy cannot end because it is not bound by time, and it cannot run out because it is not bound by quantity.
Perfective Verbs That Resist Perfection
Both verbs—תָמְנוּ and כָלוּ—are perfective forms (Qal perfect, third person plural). In prose, these would indicate completed actions. But in poetry, especially in lament or praise, their function shifts. Here, they become weapons against finality.
Key insight:
◦ In narrative prose, perfective verbs narrate events that have happened.
◦ In poetic negation, they narrate what cannot happen.
This is a hallmark of Biblical Hebrew poetry: the perfective tense, when negated, often denotes a permanent state. The poet is not saying “God’s love hasn’t ended yet”—but rather, “It cannot end.”
The grammar becomes a theological argument: if the verbs of completion are denied, then completion itself is impossible.
The Grammar of Eternity
Lamentations 3:22 is not merely a confession of faith—it is a linguistic act of defiance against despair. The double negation, paired with perfective verbs, does more than deny finitude. It denies the very concept of divine abandonment.
These words were spoken in the shadow of ruin, yet their syntax reaches toward eternity. The verbs תָמְנוּ and כָלוּ, negated and paired, become anchors in the storm:
◦ חַסְדֵי יְהוָה — His steadfast love is not a relic of the past.
◦ רַחֲמָיו — His mercies are not a dwindling resource.
They are grammatical declarations of permanence, etched into the fabric of language itself.
This is not just Hebrew grammar.
This is the syntax of survival.
This is the poetry of hope that outlives destruction.