Psalm 22 and the witness of the Cross

“My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?”

–Psalm 22:1

The opening line of Psalm 22 is very familiar to Christians everywhere.  It is a line repeated by Jesus from the cross; one of his seven last words.  For a long time now I have known that it comes from a psalm, and perhaps –if asked—could have even told (guessed) you which one; but I wouldn’t have said that it was the opening line.  I didn’t remember that. And this morning as I read Psalm 22 I was struck by the fact that it is the first words of the psalm. And I was intrigued by that. And I began to prayerfully wonder (which is something a lot like contemplation).

When Jesus said this from the cross was He offering or attempting something more than just a personal cry of agony, or prayer?  I wonder.  Was He speaking the psalm simply as a cry to His Father, or was there more to it? Was it also a cry from all humanity trapped in sin?

“Him who knew no sin He made to be sin on our behalf…” (2 Cor 5:21)

Crying out to the Father from the very heart of sin, He uses the words of a psalm—words any devout Jew might have known, been familiar with, and thus invites His witnesses, His friends, those who remained with Him at the cross: Mary (His mother), John (the apostle), Mary, the wife of Clopas, Mary Magdalene, and Mary, the mother of James and Joses… invites them to join Him in prayer.  Think about it.  When someone begins a familiar prayer (the Lord’s prayer, for instance), think how quickly do your lips begin forming the words, unconsciously you find yourself joining in.  I have witnessed unbelievers who know this prayer begin speaking it without thinking because someone else has started it.  The words just comes out. And suddenly a group of people are praying together because one of them started with those familiar eternal words: Our Father…

And so I began to wonder, to contemplate: Did those who remained with Him, at the foot of the cross, did they continue the prayer of that psalm? As His voice failed, as His breath failed, was there a pause and then –realizing what He had said—gazing into His pain—did they continue it for Him? As a comfort to Him? The only consolation they could offer?  Did they pray the psalm for Him? 

Sometimes it is all we can do.  We can’t fix the problem, can’t ease the pain, all we can do is remain and when those we love can no longer even pray for themselves, we can… we can sit by their side, share their burden, and pray their prayers for them.  You will be surprised at what a blessing that can be.  

Him who knew no sin, became sin for us—and through Him, sin itself cried out to Heaven: My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?  Lent is beginning this week; perhaps over these next 40 days we can make some time (once a day, once a week) to still our hearts and join Him in His prayer for us.