Psalms 22:1-16: a reflection

1My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, and from the words of my groaning? 2My God, I cry in the daytime, but you don’t answer; in the night season, and am not silent. 3But you are holy, you who inhabit the praises of Israel. 4Our fathers trusted in you. They trusted, and you delivered them. 5They cried to you, and were delivered. They trusted in you, and were not disappointed. 6But I am a worm, and no man; a reproach of men, and despised by the people. 7All those who see me mock me. They insult me with their lips. They shake their heads, saying, 8“He trusts in the LORD. Let him deliver him. Let him rescue him, since he delights in him.” 9But you brought me out of the womb. You made me trust while at my mother’s breasts. 10I was thrown on you from my mother’s womb. You are my God since my mother bore me. 11Don’t be far from me, for trouble is near. For there is no one to help. 12Many bulls have surrounded me. Strong bulls of Bashan have encircled me. 13They open their mouths wide against me, lions tearing prey and roaring. 14I am poured out like water. All my bones are out of joint. My heart is like wax. It is melted within me. 15My strength is dried up like a potsherd. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. You have brought me into the dust of death. 16For dogs have surrounded me. A company of evildoers have enclosed me. They have pierced my hands and feet.

This psalm opens with a cry of anguish that Christ himself would take upon his own lips on the cross: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? It is a cry from the depths of feeling forsaken, abandoned, unheard: the psalmist cries day and night and receives no answer, feels far from God's help. And yet, even in this cry of forsakenness, notice the address: my God, my God. Even feeling utterly forsaken, the psalmist still holds to God as his own, still calls him my God, and goes on to recall how God is holy, how the fathers trusted him and were delivered, how God had been his God from birth. Faith holds on, even in the darkness of feeling forsaken, still crying my God. And this psalm was on the lips of Christ himself in his deepest agony on the cross, who entered fully into that forsakenness for us, yet held to the Father. Even in feeling forsaken, we can still cry my God and hold to him, as Christ did. The cry of forsakenness still addresses God as my God. Faith holds to God even feeling forsaken by him. Christ made this cry his own, holding to the Father in the dark.

Notice what the psalmist does even in the depths of feeling forsaken: he still holds to God as his own. The anguish is real: he feels forsaken, unanswered, abandoned. And yet he cries not to a distant, disowned deity, but my God, my God, still claiming God as his own even in the darkness. And he goes on, amid the anguish, to recall God's holiness, God's past faithfulness, God's care from his birth. This is faith holding on in the dark: not the absence of the feeling of forsakenness, but the refusal, even in it, to let go of God, still crying my God. And Christ himself took this very cry upon his lips on the cross, entering fully into the experience of forsakenness for our sake, yet even there addressing the Father, holding to him. This teaches us that even in the depths of feeling forsaken by God, we can still hold to him, still cry my God, still recall his faithfulness. The feeling of forsakenness is not the end of faith; faith can hold to God even in it, as the psalmist did, as Christ did. To cry my God even when we feel forsaken is faith holding on. Even in the dark of feeling forsaken, we can still claim God as our own. Christ held to the Father even in the forsakenness of the cross.

That is worth holding onto, for even in the depths of feeling forsaken by God, we can still cry my God and hold to him, as the psalmist did and as Christ did on the cross. When we feel forsaken by God, unanswered, abandoned, we can be tempted to let go of him entirely, to stop crying to him; but the psalmist, even in the depths, still cried my God, still held to God as his own, still recalled his faithfulness. And Christ himself made this cry his own on the cross, holding to the Father even in forsakenness. The feeling of being forsaken is not the end of faith. When you feel forsaken by God, do not let go of him; cry my God, and hold to him, as the psalmist and Christ did. Even in the depths of feeling forsaken by God, hold to him and cry my God, recalling his faithfulness, as the psalmist, feeling forsaken and unanswered, still cried my God, my God, and as Christ took this very cry upon his lips on the cross, entering into forsakenness for us yet holding to the Father; for the feeling of being forsaken is not the end of faith, and even in the darkness we can still claim God as our own, still cry to him, still recall his past faithfulness, holding to him as the psalmist and Christ did, so that the cry of forsakenness itself can be a cry of faith that still addresses God as my God and does not let go of him.

Lord, this psalm opens with a cry of anguish that Christ himself would take upon his own lips on the cross: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? It is a cry from the depths of feeling forsaken, abandoned, unheard: the psalmist cries day and night and receives no answer. And yet, even in this cry of forsakenness, let me notice the address: my God, my God. Even feeling utterly forsaken, the psalmist still holds to you as his own, still calls you my God, and goes on to recall how you are holy, how the fathers trusted you and were delivered, how you had been his God from birth. Faith holds on, even in the darkness of feeling forsaken. And this psalm was on the lips of Christ himself in his deepest agony on the cross. Show me what the psalmist does even in the depths of feeling forsaken: he still holds to you as his own. The anguish is real; and yet he cries not to a distant, disowned deity, but my God, still claiming you as his own even in the darkness. This is faith holding on in the dark: not the absence of the feeling of forsakenness, but the refusal, even in it, to let go of you. And Christ himself took this very cry upon his lips on the cross, entering fully into forsakenness for my sake, yet even there holding to you. Let me hold onto that, for even in the depths of feeling forsaken by you, I can still cry my God and hold to you, as the psalmist did and as Christ did. When I feel forsaken by you, unanswered, abandoned, I can be tempted to let go of you entirely; but the psalmist, even in the depths, still cried my God, still held to you as his own. When I feel forsaken by you, keep me from letting go of you; help me cry my God, Lord, and hold to you, recalling your faithfulness, as the psalmist and Christ did, that the cry of forsakenness itself may be a cry of faith that still claims you as my own.