Topic
Christ’s anguished cry from the cross — “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” — is one of the most searingly honest expressions of suffering in all of Scripture, and it holds profound hope for every soul who has ever felt utterly alone.
Key Scripture
“And about three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ (which means ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’).” Matthew 27:46 (NIV)
Reflection
When Jesus cried out “why have you forsaken me?” from the cross, he was not spiralling into faithless despair. He was doing something remarkable — quoting Scripture. Those exact words open Psalm 22, a psalm of David that moves through profound suffering and arrives, breathtakingly, at praise and vindication. Jesus, the Word made flesh, was anchoring himself to God’s own Word even as the darkness closed around him. In his most agonising moment, he reached for Scripture. That alone is a word for every believer who has ever found themselves clinging to a promise in the middle of the night.
Psalm 22 is a psalm that begins in desolation — “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish?” (Psalm 22:1, NIV) — and yet it does not end there. By the psalm’s close, the sufferer is declaring God’s faithfulness to future generations, trusting that “he has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help” (Psalm 22:24, NIV). When Jesus uttered the opening verse, he was invoking the whole psalm. He was proclaiming — even from the cross — that abandonment would not have the final word. Resurrection would.
Yet we must not rush past the genuine weight of what Jesus endured. The theology of substitutionary atonement tells us that on the cross, Jesus bore something we cannot fully comprehend: the judicial separation from God that our sin deserves. He who knew no sin became sin for us (2 Corinthians 5:21). The Father, in holy justice, poured out upon the Son the full consequences of humanity’s rebellion. Jesus was not merely feeling forsaken — in some mysterious and terrible sense, he entered into the God-forsakenness that you and I deserved, so that we would never have to face it. The darkness at Calvary was real. The cost was immeasurable. And it was paid entirely for you.
This means that if you are walking through a season of spiritual darkness — if God feels absent, if your prayers seem to bounce off the ceiling, if you wonder whether he sees you at all — you are not alone in that wilderness. Jesus has been there. He has walked through the deepest shadow of divine absence, and he walked through it on your behalf. The risen Christ who now intercedes for you at the Father’s right hand (Romans 8:34) is not a distant high priest who cannot sympathise with your weakness. He is the one who cried out in the dark and found, beyond the grave, that the Father had heard every word. Because he was forsaken, you never will be. That is the staggering, beautiful logic of the cross.
Prayer
Lord Jesus, thank you that you did not stay silent in your suffering but cried out — and in crying out, you showed me that I can cry out too. Thank you that your darkest hour was not the end of your story, and that because of what you endured, I will never be truly abandoned. Father, in the moments when you feel far away, remind me of Calvary. Remind me that the distance I feel is not the distance that exists. Holy Spirit, draw near to every heart reading these words that is walking through the dark. Be the still, small voice that says: you are held, you are loved, you are not forsaken. In the mighty and merciful name of Jesus, Amen.
Today’s Action Step
Read Psalm 22 in full today — slowly, aloud if you can — and notice how the psalm moves from anguish to trust to praise. As you read, bring your own honest cry to God, and then keep reading until you reach the psalmist’s declaration of faith. Let Jesus’s use of this psalm remind you that reaching for Scripture in the dark is not weakness; it is the most Christ-like thing you can do. If this post has encouraged you, share it with someone who needs to know they are not forsaken — and take a moment to respond to God’s love by telling him, simply and honestly, what is on your heart today.