Rachel Yehuda, a scientist who studies epigenetic, has developed a theory that the effects of trauma are transmitted from generation to generation.  For example, in her study on children of Holocaust survivors, she shows that they are three times as likely to develop PTSD if they were exposed to a traumatic event than Jews whose parents were not in the Holocaust.  

Israeli poet, Yehuda Amichai, wrote about the generational impact of trauma in Open Closed Open:

If one believes that the world is falling apart now, a reading of Jeremiah's cosmic image of the end of the world is a reminder that the  world has fallen apart before.  Here, Jeremiah is talking about the destruction of the Temple as the center of creation and the return to the premordial state of tohu v'vohu.   These are words of grief over the perpetual state of creation reversal.  

Jeremiah's poetry is not meant to predict the future of catastrophic events or simply compose a record of history.  Jeremiah's words force the listener to look upon our wounds in order to heal them.  

Jeremiah asks the people of Judah to "circumcise" their hearts and remove the thick layers of protection that prevent them from feeling, experiencing, and hearing truth.   "Listen!" Jeremiah repeats his plea for the people to pay attention and listen.  You must keep the conversation going, even if we are yelling and screaming.  Jeremiah is trying to keep the community from shutting down in denial or inaction.  

Jeremiah's poetry shows deep empathy to the suffering of his people, so much so that he feels the pain in his very body.  

Jeremiah is describing how trauma becomes a somatic experience in the human body, changing its very function and shape.  He wishes that his head were filled with water so his tears could flow day and night.   He shows and overwhelmed nation how to pray in the midst of devastation.  When he finds himself in the pit of hopelessness, Jeremiah clings to God, even as God is not showing up.  He is not afraid to open the wound of the tragedy that befell his nation and stare into it, as if God might dwell inside.  

This verse reminds me of the shiv'ah ritual of sitting in mourning for seven days after the burial of the dead.  The verse is also an example of what chaplains call "companioning", or bearing witness to suffering and being present to another's pain.  

Both Ezekiel and Jeremiah explain human suffering as God's retribution for sin (which I do not believe in). Instead of focusing on the message of theodicy here, I would like to point out that they do not stand above the people; they suffer together with them. Jeremiah and Ezekiel are not alone in their weeping; they are crying together with God and the people.

Ezekiel becomes a recluse and shuts himself off from he world in his house.  He also loses his ability to speak.  In the aftermath of major disasters, it is common for survivors to be at a loss for words and articulation of their experience.  Ezekiel behaves in strange ways, which might point to expression of shock, denial, and overwhelming grief.  

Judith Herman, a writer in the field of trauma and recovery, writes: "survivors of atrocity of every age and every culture come to a point in the testimony where all questions are reduced to one, spoken more in bewilderment than outrace: Why?  The answer is beyond human understanding."  Eicha, or Lamentations, begins with the howling question "how?!".  

Lamentations lives in the wound of the present, absorbed in the intricate details of pain.  

Alan Mintz call the book of Lamentations a "house of sorrow" where tears flow safely, and we are allowed to feel the full catastrophe of our own heartache.  For those readers who have experienced trauma, the book becomes witness to the most senseless of human experiences, letting the reader know they are not alone.  

In the middle of the first chapter of Lamentations a voice begins to speak in the first person.  This is significant, as we realize that until now Zion was described in third person, but now she begins to speak for herself in her own voice. 

Just like Job, who refuses to turn away from God, even when he is furious and in despair, Lamentations continues the conversation with God.  The flow of tears is imagery of cleansing and expression of grief.  These prayers attempt to awaken a slumbering God and budge the divine into action.  These laments bring human pain and suffering into language.  

One of the most disturbing images of starvation and the breakdown of the very foundation of civilization.  This type of image-creation is not for the faint of heart and makes me want to hold onto everything I love and protect it, savoring every precious moment of life.  

This passage is the Haftorah for Parshat Noah.   Consolation in the aftermath of the flood. 

MLK’s I have a Dream speech was in part inspired by Second Isaiah, who has given us the language with which to challenge the meaninglessness of living in a world on fire. His words express hope beyond despair, beyond the absence of God, and beyond doubt. “Let every valley be raised, Every hill and mount made low. Let the rugged ground become level And the ridges become a plain.”

Second Isaiah falls in the genre of Consolation (root n-h-m), comfort in the aftermath of disillusionment and disappointment.  From across a transcendental space, God's word breaks through to man, ending the silence.