“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.
