DAY THIRTY -- Forsaken
There is something infinitely profounder than pathos in the death of Jesus; there is a mystery we cannot begin to touch. —Oswald Chambers
Reflect
Breathe deeply as you settle your heart before God. Release the distractions of your day, concentrating on the presence of Christ in and around you through His Spirit. Do this until you feel ready to contemplate what God has for you today.
Quietly read Amos 8:9–10, a prophecy of the darkness at Golgotha:
“It will come about in that day,” declares the Lord GOD, “that I will make the sun go down at noon and make the earth dark in broad daylight. Then I will turn your festivals into mourning and all your songs into lamentation; and I will bring sackcloth on everyone’s loins and baldness on every head. And I will make it like a time of mourning for an only son, and the end of it will be like a bitter day.” (NASB)
Imagine the atmosphere God describes. See rejoicing turning to mourning, and happy songs turning to loud, mournful laments at the gloom of a world without Light. Ask God to reveal the reality of this so that you may mourn for His only Son as you come to the cross today.
Read
About the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” that is, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?”(Matthew 27:46 NASB)
The darkness on Golgotha is so thick now that no one dares move. The air reeks of hopelessness. Sweeping depression descends on everyone who attends the crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth. Some begin to shake uncontrollably; others weep in silent despair. Priests clutch their phylacteries like good luck charms, but relief doesn’t come.
Jesus writhes in agony as He drinks the final drops from sin’s vile cup. His back is a mass of infection, pus oozing from raw sores. His grotesque face contorts in the blackness at midday. Thankfully no one can see His repugnant form. When finally He swallows the last of the bitter potion, His body explodes in convulsions of racking pain.
Flinging Himself up with inhuman strength, He screams: “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?”
What rips such a plea from the bowels of the crucified One? Is hope completely obscured by the darkness of the sin He carries? Is the onslaught of demonic forces threatening His determination to endure till the end?
The priests are startled at first, then find themselves strangely discomforted at this show of weakness. Sobered soldiers fight their own internal demons. Abject woe wrenches the hearts of the women who hear their beloved Rabbi scream in the distance.
My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me? Jesus cries out, but there is no answer. What inner turmoil must plague the Son at this severing of His triune soul? From Gethsemane till now, God the Father has refused to intervene. What kind of wretchedness wields its way into His Son’s heart at such rejection? Does sovereign silence sabotage His struggle to obey for even an instant?
With great force Jesus is plunged back down, paralyzing the muscles in His arms. Then, for no apparent reason, the sky begins to lighten. Those nearby look up to examine the face of the One who has screamed in such distress. How can one explain what they see? For though racked with pain and battered beyond belief, something strange emanates from His eyes. It almost seems a look of relief.
And God the Father weeps great sobs, shaking the heavens with His grief. How hard it has been to restrain Himself while watching His Son endure such agony. How He has longed to intervene—to subdue the suffering for even a moment. What torment He has known in every drop of sin His Son has drunk.
But His righteousness requires such a reckoning, and the plan put into place so long ago must be carried out to the bitter end. Never has the world known a moment such as this, when mercy triumphs over judgment and love restrains the Almighty, silencing His voice. The price is paid—by the Son who dies and the Father who could save Him but declines on behalf of a lost and dying world.
Respond
It is beyond our human comprehension to fathom what happened when Christ took on the sins of the world. Yet, as worshipers, we must try. Place yourself in that state of darkness once again, and listen to Jesus cry from the cross: “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” What would it be like to know your only parent will not help you in your time of greatest need?
In reality, God did not turn His back on Jesus, but chose again and again to not intervene, that the price of sin might be paid in full. As you hear Jesus cry out, consider both His pain and the Father’s. Consider the agony of watching your only child suffer, knowing you must not reach out to help.
Read the following verses and rejoice that He is your source of eternal salvation.
In the days of His flesh, He offered up both prayers and supplications with loud crying and tears to the One able to save Him from death, and He was heard because of His piety. Although He was a Son, He learned obedience from the things which He suffered. And having been made perfect, He became to all those who obey Him the source of eternal salvation. (Hebrews 5:7–9 NASB)
Spend some time in worship for all that has been done to purchase you from sin’s grip. Write a prayer based on these verses.
A Prayer
Father God, how rarely have I thought of Your pain in watching Your Son die as He did. I dismiss it with tenets of theology and lofty explanations. But You were there. You did not leave—that perhaps would have been easier. You stayed . . . and You watched . . . and You wept . . . and You did nothing. You refused to act—truly I am unworthy of such love. I rest in my unworthiness and ponder the mercy flowing down for one such as me.
Reprinted by permission. Contemplating the Cross: a Forty Day Pilgrimage of Prayer, Tricia McCary Rhodes, 2004, Thomas Nelson, Inc., Nashville, Tennessee. All rights reserved. Copying or using this material without written permission from the publisher is strictly prohibited and in direct violation of copyright law.
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