“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry by the day, but you do not answer, and by night, but I find no rest. “
Psalm 22:1-2 ESV
These are not the words you would put next to the most often memorized or quoted Psalm. These words seem hopeless. As if the writer was going through such a difficult moment, that he actually believed that God had forsaken him.
These are the very words that Jesus quotes when he is on the cross.
“And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?””
Mark 15:34 ESV
These have weight. You feel it, the heaviness of life. Disappointments, disasters, a moment where you believe that God has abandoned you.
Let me tell you, that is not the God I know. The God I know, never abandons. Does he allow me to experience moments of difficulty that I may look to him for guidance? 100%. Does he allow me to be in a position of humility that I may see him in his abundance and majesty? Yes.
“Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel. In you our fathers trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them. To you they cried and were rescued; in you they trusted and were not put to shame.”
Psalm 22:3-5 ESV
Can you hear it? The heartbreak, the solemn-ness of it? The “I know you’ve worked in so and so’s life, but I don’t see you working in mine…”
From verses 6-18, you can hear the writer go into a depressive state. If a licensed psychiatrist was in the room with him, a prescription would have been written. This is almost to the point of needing to be put under observation, for prolonging of life.
It’s so bad. But what’s even worst is, Jesus emulates verses 16-18 while on the cross.
“For dogs encompass me; a company of evildoers encircles me; they have pierced my hands and feet— I can count all my bones—they stare and gloat over me; they divide my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots. “
Psalm 22:16-18 ESV
This isn’t just an experience for one person who FEELS that way. Christ went through it physcially and personally. Pretty dark, pretty grim.
The head begins to turn toward heaven. A gaze becomes fixed.
“But you, O LORD, do not be far off! O you my help, come quickly to my aid! Deliver my soul from the sword, my precious life from the power of the dog! Save me from the mouth of the lion! You have rescued me from the horn of the wild oxen!”
“I will tell of your name to my brothers; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you: You who fear the LORD, praise him!”
Psalm 22:19-22
Did you catch it? The faint spark of hope? The little glimmer?
“I will tell of your name…” “I will praise you…”
Notice, it doesn’t say “I am currently praising you, and I am currently telling of your name.” There’s a grit. There’s a difficulty. “I will get there, though I am not there right now.”
There’s an “I understand that you are sovereign over all and over me, though I do not understand the plan you are enacting, I do understand that it is for your glory.” “Though I may not like it right now, I still know that you are good, your love doesn’t change.”
The writer of Psalm 22, having been through the wringer, loves God and has experienced a bout of depression. Because there are seasons for it. The reasons for the seasons may vary, but the ultimate end is to reveal something about God that was otherwise unknown before.
“For he has not despised or abhorred the affliction of the afflicted, and he has not hidden his face from him, but has heard, when he cried to him.”
Psalm 22:24 ESV
Do you feel that way? Have you been in a spot, or a funk, or under a wave? Let me tell you, Psalm 22 wasn’t put in the Bible willy-nilly. Here’s a couple of reasons why I would venture and say that it’s God’s goodness toward you:
- This psalm, by sheer tone, is written by someone who was more than likely dealing with a wave of depression.
- This psalm is quoted by Jesus himself, it is some of the last words he utters while on the cross. If the last words are most important, then this is an important psalm.
These are great reasons, but I would also say that this is an applicable psalm. Right now, we are becoming more aware as a people regarding mental health. Either being proactive by making changes or seeing a professional. But increasingly, we are also emotionally immature. Avoiding whatever kind of discomfort we can by escaping, disassociating, or numbing. We have (now more than ever) more ways to escape, to disassociate and to become so numb to our difficulties and discomforts. We can even approach it with scholarly words and explain why we feel this way, but never feel the discomfort for what it is, and short ourselves of a growing and changing pain.
The many times I have gone through difficult seasons, and made it on the other side, as a result of a God who sees the details of my life (and how my brain works) and curates a care plan of sanctification. Mine included mild depression, it includes unemployment, it includes feeling purposeless or worthless. All of these discomforts aided in how I see the world, and how I see God in a personal way. Each difficulty helps me take the focus off of how I felt, how I wanted to run, numb and redirect my gaze to the one who sees farther off that I do, knows how to get me there and is patient toward me. So that, I can along with the psalmist say that God didn’t hide his face from me, even in my affliction.