A word of anguish

Midweek Lent 5 – St. Mark 15:33-41

            Have you ever cried out to God in anguish and despair?  Have you ever found yourself uttering the word Eloi Eloi; lema sabacthani?  My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?

            Perhaps you have felt this way when a loved one died.  Or maybe when the doctor came into the room and delivered devastating news regarding your health, or the health of a close family member.  Maybe it was not a death or a health diagnosis; but a life event where the whole world seemed to be crashing around you; the loss of a job, or of a home, or of a crop or livestock.

            Whatever it was, and it has likely happened, or will one day happen, to all of us; you looked at the events that transpired in front of you, and you were left with no other words, with nothing else you could possibly say, then My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?

            This is not a typical bad day; this is not the kind of thing you say when your baseball game gets rained out; or when you are forced to sit alone at lunch at school; or even when you get a flat tire while driving to work.  To question whether or not God has truly forsaken you, is ask God where even is in your moment of anguish, or to ask why you have been abandoned, it is when you truly look around, and see no one with you, and wonder if God even loves you anymore.

            To say Eloi, Eloi, lema sabacthani, is to question if God even loves you at all.

            Who do you think might have said these words in the Bible?

            Joseph might have thought this many times, when he was in the pit, or when his brothers sold him into slavery; or when he was thrown into prison on false charges.  Jonah might have thought this when he found himself in the belly of the giant fish.  And what about Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the fiery furnace?  Or Daniel in the lion’s den?  Or any of the prophets when the people rejected God’s Word?

            And in the New Testament, surely Peter must have thought this after he denied Jesus for a third time; the same with Paul when he was being beaten, or shipwrecked, or imprisoned.  And then there is John on the island of Patmos at the end of his life.

            All of these people, plus countless more, and even you, have cried out My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?

            And one other person said these same words: on the cross, Jesus cries out Eloi, Eloi, lema sabacthani – My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?

            Why would Jesus, of all people, question if God has forsaken Him?

            First and foremost, there is the practical reason that death by crucifixion is particularly painful and agonizing; you do not die because of the cross or the nails; you die because you suffocate to death; you literally can no longer pull yourself up to get a breath of air.

            There is also the humiliation of hanging naked for all to see; and there is the constant barrage of curses and insults and jeers from anyone and everyone who passes by; some because they truly despise you; others because it is just the popular thing to do; and still others as a show to the Romans that you do not associate with this man.

            And then there is the personal knowledge that Jesus carries, that even though He is perfectly innocent, not to mention the Son of God; He is enduring the death of a criminal; the death that ought to be reserved for the most hated man in world history.

            All of that leads Jesus to cry out Eloi, Eloi; lema sabacthani!

            And here is the worst part of it all: God has truly abandoned Jesus on the cross; Jesus literally does hang on the cross, completely abandoned and forsaken by God.  God the Father rejects His one and only Son; He turns His back on Him in His hour of deepest need; and in doing so, pours out all of His wrath and anger on the cross; making the suffering and agony that much more unbearable.

            This happens no where else in the Gospels; after Satan tempts Jesus in the wilderness, we read that the angels and the wild animals would minister to Him; after a particularly long day, we read how Jesus would go up on a mountain and pray; even in the Garden of Gethsemane, when Jesus prays, an angel comes and comforts Him.

            But not at the cross; not when Jesus needs it most; on the cross, Jesus truly knows what it means to be forsaken by God.

            And so tonight, the word from the cross is one of true pain and agony, the likes of which no individual has experienced before or since.

            But that is actually good news; because of Jesus being forsaken on the cross, you can rest assured that you will never be forsaken by your Father in heaven.

            Because of Jesus words of anguish on the cross, you will never know what it is to have God truly forsake you.

            Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were never alone in that fiery furnace; nor was Daniel ever alone in the lion’s den.  Jonah was never alone in the great fish, nor was Joseph alone in Egypt.  Peter was never alone after he denied, nor was Paul ever alone in prison, or on any of his journeys.

            Each of them had the Lord God on their side; even if it was just sitting in the agony and despair with them, so that they were not alone.

            And today, you experience the same.  The Lord is with you in the hospital room; and in the doctor’s office; and in the mortuary; and in the lunch room; and in the unemployment line; and the Lord is even with you as you sit here tonight. 

            Because Jesus was totally abandoned and forsaken on the cross, you will never be abandoned and forsaken; for Christ Jesus Himself knows that feeling, and He desires that you never experience that on your own.  But He stands with you in the good times and in the bad; He stands with you when you are alone, and when you are surrounded by others.

            Tonight’s word of anguish is experienced by Jesus; and because Jesus endures the anguish of the cross and of being abandoned, you never will.