forsaken

"My God my God, why hast thou forsaken me" by F. Holland Day 1898

the arts and teaching pastor at my church asked me to be one of the seven that reflects on the last words of Christ for our church's Good Friday service. On meditating on the scriptures, this one brought me to my knees. Even Jesus uttered the words, "My God My God why hast thou forsaken me?" I am going to include my reflections; they have been cut down considerably (I think I could have written a 40 minute sermon!) I found so many wonderful words by theologians and wish I could include them all. George MacDonald, a favorite author of mine, experienced more suffering than I think I can ever fathom. He writes a beautiful meditation on these last words (I found it on the NavPress site). and here are mine. thank you, brie, my editor in chief. names have been changed to protect some identities and a sentence or two have been left off for various reasons (at the writer's discretion).





About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani? Which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me”.
These are incredibly perplexing words. Martin Luther stated, “God turning his back on God? Who can understand it”? Christ had already suffered greatly through beatings and his wounds, thirst, starvation, sweating blood, taking this “cup”. And now He was partaking in the will of God. He was taking on the sins of the world. And he echoes the words of David in psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest.”


One of the most significant verses in my life has been, “I will never leave you NOR FORSAKE YOU”. When I was barely old enough to speak my mom taught me to memorize bible verses, and after memorizing so many, I won a prize, a plaque with this verse on it. It hung above my light switch throughout my childhood and whenever I was afraid or had a nightmare, I would turn to that plaque to remember His promise. It still hangs in my room today.

There was a time in my life when Christ’s love was so richly poured out over me. His voice was so sweet. Our fellowship was intimate. His intense outpouring of grace touched me and moved me to share His goodness with others. So I decided to serve the Lord in Amsterdam. My first day there was 9/11. My third week brought two minor sexual assaults. And it was almost immediately that I realized God was silent. I didn’t hear his voice anymore. I would cry out and no response was given.

MY GOD MY GOD WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME!

And I was surrounded by real, in your face human depravity. There was my sweet friend from Burundi who was taken by rebels and then was brought to shoot her own parents. Gladys from England whose inner arms were tributes to her multiple suicide attempts. A friend from Nigeria whose family was burned alive in their home by rebels. There was another friend from Thailand who was raped by a woman and spent the next several years sleeping with as many men as possible to attempt to “cure” her homosexual longings. There was the Christian missionary, a man of God who for a brief moment grabbed me in a dark staircase to feed his selfish lusts. In this place, it seemed I was surrounded by death!
And my response was “my God my God why have you forsaken these!”

Even after returning from Amsterdam, God was silent and I seem to find still more suffering, more hardship, more ramifications of this fallen nature.
Four years God was silent. Four years his presence felt distant.. They were 4 years of poverty, of not knowing how I could pay bills and eat, of desperately seeking work. There was relational poverty and intense loneliness. Mostly there was spiritual poverty. I felt abandoned by God. What I did know is that I had previously experienced God’s goodness. I had tasted and seen that the Lord is good. Charles Spurgeon writes, “There are seasons when the brightness of our Father's smile is eclipsed by clouds and darkness; but let us remember that God never does really forsake us.."

The little plaque from my childhood with the verse “Nor forsake you” was still true though through these years it had baffled me. I knew that had to move past feeling and past intellect. I had to embrace trust. Psalm 22 continues with, “ Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the praise of Israel. In you our fathers put their trust; they trusted and you delivered them. They cried to you and were saved; in you they trusted and were not disappointed.”



In a meditation of these last words of Christ, George MacDonald writes “The divine horror of that moment is unfathomable to the human soul. It was the blackness of darkness. And yet He believed. Yet He held fast. God was still His God.”


Christ entered our sufferings. God entered our sufferings. The raw honesty of the cross is that the punishment for sin is death, utter and complete separation from God, the creator, the author and perfector of life, the Father. He who knew no sin became sin for us. Christ drank the cup, tasted death. God knew separation from God.

Christ called out not about his pain or his suffering; it was great. But he called out for the Father.

He who knew no sin and knew the glory of heaven, knew the deepest sweetness of communion with God, took your death and my death, took on sin and separation from the I Am, so we, the sinners, can fellowship with the Almighty.