God, My God
"My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?"
—Matthew 27:46, quoting Psalm 22:1
Jerusalem crown of thorns branch emerging naturally from fractured dark basalt beneath blue sky.
There are moments in life when words fail us. Joy can leave us speechless, and so can grief. Sometimes the deepest emotions are carried not by long explanations but by a single sentence. That is exactly what we find as Jesus hangs upon the cross.
As Jesus hung on the cross, surrounded by mocking voices and unimaginable suffering, He spoke words that have echoed through the centuries.
"My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?"
—Matthew 27:46, quoting Psalm 22:1
Throughout this book, we have been asking one question.
Why did Jesus choose this Scripture?
Some people have read those words and wondered whether Jesus felt abandoned by His Father. Others have heard only the depth of His suffering. There is certainly profound suffering in those words, but the Gospels also remind us of something else. Once again, Jesus was opening the Scriptures. Even in His final public words from the cross, He directed those listening back to the Word of God.
His listeners would have recognized the opening line immediately. In Jesus' day, the Psalms were treasured, memorized, and sung. Quoting the first line naturally brought the entire psalm to mind, much as we might recognize the opening words of a familiar hymn.
What follows in Psalm 22 is remarkable. The opening cry is filled with anguish, yet the psalm does not remain there. David remembers God's faithfulness in the past, recalls how previous generations trusted Him, and continues bringing his heart before the Lord even in the middle of his suffering.
As the psalm unfolds, it contains words that sound strikingly familiar to anyone who has read the Gospel accounts. David writes,
"All who see me mock me; they sneer and shake their heads."
—Psalm 22:7
Later he says,
"They divided my garments among themselves, and they cast lots for my clothing."
—Psalm 22:18
Yet the psalm does not end with mockery or suffering. It ends with hope, worship, and the confidence that God will accomplish His purpose among all nations.
Perhaps that is one reason Jesus chose these words. He did not quote a psalm that ended in despair but one that begins with suffering and ultimately points toward God's faithfulness. Once again, Jesus invited His listeners to continue reading rather than stopping with the opening line.
I have often thought about how different people respond when life becomes difficult. Some grow silent. Others become angry. Some search for answers, while others simply try to endure another day. None of us chooses suffering, and all of us carry burdens that others cannot fully see.
Jesus understands every one of those burdens because He did not watch human suffering from a distance. He entered it. That may be one of the most comforting truths in the entire Gospel. The Son of God knows what it is to be exhausted, rejected, betrayed, grieved, and physically wounded. He understands what it means to walk a difficult road while continuing to entrust Himself to His Father.
There is another reason I treasure Psalm 22.
It does not end at the cross.
Near its conclusion, David's words turn toward hope.
"All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the LORD. All the families of the nations will bow down before you."
—Psalm 22:27
What a beautiful ending. The psalm that began with suffering ends with the nations remembering the Lord and proclaiming His righteousness. The cross was never intended to be the end of God's story. It became the place where His plan reached its fulfillment.
The Father's plan has always reached far beyond one place and one moment in history. From His promise to Abraham that all families of the earth would be blessed, to Daniel's vision of a kingdom embracing every nation, Scripture has been telling one beautiful story.
Standing at the cross, that story had not failed.
It was reaching its fulfillment.
One of the things I appreciate most about Jesus is that even in His final hours, He continued revealing His Father's heart.
He prayed,
"Father, forgive them, because they do not know what they are doing."
—Luke 23:34
What kind of love speaks forgiveness while nails are still in His hands?
Only the love we have been discovering since the opening pages of this book.
It is the same love that called, "Where are you?" in the Garden. The same love that patiently pursued Jonah, welcomed the weary, searched for wandering sheep, and offered bread to the hungry and living water to the thirsty. The cross did not reveal a different God. It revealed the same Father's heart we have been discovering from the opening pages of Scripture.
It revealed the same Father's heart we have seen from the very beginning.
As I have grown older, I have found myself returning to the cross for a different reason than I did when I was young.
When I was younger, I often found myself thinking about what Jesus endured. As the years have passed, I have begun asking a different question: Why did He endure it? The answer that echoes through the Gospels is remarkably simple. Love. Love for His Father. Love for those the Father had given Him. Love for a world that desperately needed hope.
Perhaps that is why Jesus chose the opening words of Psalm 22.
Even in His greatest suffering, He reminded those standing nearby that God had already spoken.
The cross was not an interruption of the Father's plan.
It was the place where His love was most clearly revealed.
As we come to the close of our journey, death does not have the final word. On the very day of His resurrection, Jesus quietly joins two discouraged disciples as they walk home from Jerusalem. They believe everything they had hoped for has come to an end. Before revealing who He is, Jesus does something wonderfully familiar. He opens the Scriptures once again.
That final lesson will become the perfect ending to our journey.
