"Why have you forsaken me?"

Mark 15.34

Pastor Tom Johnson, April 1, 2012

 

“Hosanna! Save us, O Lord! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord—the King of Israel.” “God bless you, Jesus! Fulfill our hopes! Rid us of the Romans! Take the throne! Deliver us from evil. Usher in world peace.” Even Jesus’ enemies cannot deny his popularity. The Pharisees say, “You can’t do anything about it. The whole world follows him.” Everything seems great. The disciples are with Jesus. The Romans and religious leaders leave him alone. And the crowds seem ready to embrace Jesus as their Savior and King.

But in few days, his disciples slip away into a groggy sleep at Jesus’ most difficult hour. One betrays him for silver. One denies him three times. They all run away when Jesus is arrested—one does naked. The Chief Priests abandon Jesus to Pilate. Pilate sends him away to Herod. Pilate’s wife encourages him to have nothing to do with Jesus. The loud hosannas from the crowds become shouts of “Crucify him!” from the mobs. And, finally, Pilate washes his hands and disposes of Jesus to the scourging and the cross. He is crucified. All seem to have forsaken Jesus. He is left to die hanging on a tree. Jesus is deserted by the world around him. And it is at that moment when he invites us into the loneliness of his world inside:

“Eloi Eloi, lema sabachthani?” “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” These words, so powerfully spoken and heart wrenching, are in Jesus’ Aramaic dialect—words that, once they entered the ear, echoed in the mind for a lifetime. “Eloi Eloi, lema sabachthani?”—as if no other language could adequately describe the hearing of this primordial cry. “Eloi Eloi, lema sabachthani?” These words would be strange and foreign sounds for Greek ears, just as they are strange and foreign toward ours.

The meaning of the words are no less strange and foreign coming from the lips of the Son of God—the Messiah—true God in human flesh. He cries out, “Why, God? Where are you? How is it that the Son can feel forsaken by his heavenly Father?” These words remind us that when Jesus died, he carried the full weight of sin, evil, and death itself. Jesus, who was tempted in every way yet without sin, experienced the cross in the most profound, human way. These words express the worst kind of death—worse than the separation of the body and spirit—separation from God—not experiencing the comfort of God’s loving and protective presence.

Yes, Jesus knows he will die and rise again. Yes, he knows that God has not abandoned him and will receive him in that very hour in Paradise. But Jesus still feels the very human, terrifying sensation that he is alone.

If the Son of God could feel that very human emotion—if Jesus’ faith could be tested at such a profound and spiritual level, then we should not be surprised that we may also feel that terrifying sensation that we are alone—that God has abandoned us—has left us as orphans—has ignored our suffering. Like Jesus, we may also find ourselves feeling alone with the question:

“Why?” “Why have you forsaken me. Why are you so far from my groanings? Why have you allowed this tragedy to happen? How can you know about the terrible things that happen all around us and seem like you are doing nothing? The silence is troubling. You seem absent. And my faith seems to be withering in the heat of temptation and thirst for your reassuring presence.”

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This is Jesus’ prayer. Jesus borrows the words from King David in Psalm 22. And so, we should not fear to pray as the King of Israel and the King of kings do. Just moments after prays this, Jesus breathes his last. He enters immediately into the loving presence of his Father. No longer does he experience the agony of feeling forsaken. Jesus opens the door for all of us into the warmth and rest of an eternal, loving relationship with our heavenly Father.

Though we cry out in our confusion—though we may feel alone in our journey, God is with us. We may find that when we cry out in fear, God will overcome our fears—if we have the courage to lay all our burdens upon him who cares for us—upon Jesus who will sustain us—the Good Shepherd who leads us through the valley of the shadow of death. He may not answer according to our timetable. He may not manifest his presence for eyes and ears to observe. But he is there. He cares. He loves us. He will bring us safely through to the other side. “Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning.”