Forsaken

As Lent begins, my sermons will consider the words that Jesus spoke on the cross. They are part of any Good Friday service; but Good Friday services are no longer three hours long at midday. They may be an hour long on Friday evening. Some churches don't hold them at all any more. That means that these days, Jesus' words from the cross are seldom sermon topics. And they deserve to be! This sermon considers the first word -- the word of desolation and abandonment. If you choose to read this sermon, maybe it will give you a different way to look at that word from the cross.

The season of Lent is here once again. You can tell that with one look at any sanctuary. In our church, the cloths on the altar, pulpit, and lectern are now purple. A crown of thorns is sitting on our altar. And a rough wooden cross draped with purple is hanging on the wall, reminding us that, although Jesus is our King, our sin led to his death on a cross. That is, of course, ultimately where Lent leads – to a cross on a hill. We have to face that cross before we can celebrate the glad news of Easter morning. It shows us the worst of humanity and the best of the divine. Jesus was crucified because of human power and politics, but was raised by God so that we might have eternal life.

But we frequently forget something during Lent. We are so focused on Jesus as God’s divine son that we forget that Jesus was also very human. Fully human and fully divine – that’s what we confess about the person of Jesus. And nothing shows Jesus’ humanity more than the words he spoke from the cross. They reflect suffering… trust… compassion… and victory. So, during this Lenten season, my sermons will focus on these words – words that are very much like words that you and I have spoken at some time or other in our lives. Jesus’ words from the cross offer us reassurance, comfort, and strength as we deal with the circumstances of our own lives.

The very first word is a word of despair. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

It’s a desolate cry, the cry of someone who is utterly abandoned. It’s the cry of someone who is tempted to lose all hope.

The cross wasn’t the first time Jesus had been tempted. He and the Tempter were old acquaintances from way back at the beginning of his ministry. Fresh from his baptism in the Jordan River, after the Holy Spirit had descended on him like a dove, Jesus went into the wilderness. During his stay there, Satan tempted him three different times. (Luke 4:1-13) I’ve often wondered if Jesus felt abandoned by God during those temptations. But back then, God’s words that he heard at his baptism were still ringing in his ears: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” Jesus resisted those wilderness temptations, seemingly with very little effort. And then Luke tells us that Satan left him – but only until “a more opportune time.”

Satan found that opportune time on Good Friday. Jesus had no words from God echoing in his ears that day as he hung on the cross. He heard only denials by his friends, accusations by the Pharisees, and taunts by the Roman soldiers. Abandoned by every earthly support, he cried in despair, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Where was God, anyway, the God who had called him the “beloved son”? Hadn’t Jesus done everything that God had asked him to do? Who could blame him if he lost hope in the God that he called “Father”?

Satan finds many, many opportune times in our own lives, as well, to tempt us to lose hope. We don’t need to be hanging on a cross to be driven to despair. When the phone rings late at night and the voice on the line says, “This is the Highway Patrol. There’s been an accident,” then despair is standing right outside the door. When your beloved turns to you one day and says, “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to be married anymore,” then despair taps you on the shoulder. When the doctor shakes her head and says gravely, “I’m sorry, there’s nothing else that we can do,” then despair stares you right in the face. What else can we do at times like these except cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Where can we possibly find any hope when hope seems to have vanished?

Maybe Jesus’ own words give us the answer. His first word from the cross – that word of despair – is a quote from the 22^nd Psalm. The first half of that psalm foreshadows Jesus’ experiences on the cross. It says things like: “O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer. (verse 2a) I am scorned by men and despised by the people. (verse 6b) All who see me mock me. They hurl insults… (verse 7) I am poured out like water. All my bones are out of joint. (verse 14a) My strength is dried up like a potsherd. (verse 15a) A band of evil men has encircled me. They have pierced my hands and feet. (verse 16) They divide my garments among them, and cast lots for my clothing.” (verse 18) No, there is precious little hope to be found in the beginning of Psalm 22.

But then… suddenly… miraculously… the tone of the psalm changes from despair to praise, as suffering is replaced by triumph. “I will declare your name to everyone!” the psalmist proclaims. “In the congregation I will praise you! (verse 22) God has not despised or disdained the suffering of the afflicted one. He has not hidden his face from him, but has listened to his cry for help. (verse 24) Dominion belongs to the Lord!” (verse 28a) This psalm that Jesus quoted may have begun in despair, but it certainly didn’t end there. Although it begins with suffering, it concludes with thanksgiving for God’s power over all the nations.

Did Jesus quote this psalm not only because it described his own suffering, but also because it proclaimed the hope that is ours in God’s promises? Is it possible that even from the cross, Jesus saw the sunrise of Easter morning? If that is the case – and I believe that it is – then Jesus’ cry of desolation, coming as it does from this powerful psalm, can remind us of two things. First, it reminds us that, during his life, Jesus went through everything that we go through. Jesus knew what it meant to be abandoned, to suffer, and to lose hope. And because he did, we need never say that God has forgotten us in our despair. God does not forget us any more than he forgot Jesus. But it reminds us of something else just as important. It reminds us of Easter morning. Psalm 22 is a witness that hope stands just beyond the shadow of despair. Despite suffering and fear and loneliness and pain, hope is as eternal as God’s love for us.

The cross is real. If the season of Lent has anything to say to us, it says that. We can’t avoid the cross in our lives. It comes with the territory of being human. But Easter is just as real. Even though we experience the despair of the cross, God promises us the glory of the resurrection. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Jesus said it; and we say it, too. But don’t despair. Don’t lose hope. Psalm 30, another great psalm, affirms that “Weeping may linger for the night; but joy comes with the morning.” Yes, indeed it does. It’s waiting for us with hope -- right outside the door of the empty tomb.