Abandoned - Good Friday 2006
Psalm 22
Mark 15:21-41
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me??”
What does it feel like to be abandoned? This day is for all of us who know the desperation and despair of being totally alone.
It has been said that one of the first major crises for a child is separation from their parents. The time when a baby cries out, and their parents either do not hear, or do not come. Somehow as we grow older, we encounter this same crises over and over again in different forms. Psychologists and psychiatrists spend a great deal of their time analyzing human anxiety, and separation and abandonment is perhaps one of the greatest ones to touch the human soul. Yet separation is more than just a sense of anxiety, it is a genuine theological crisis that every single one of us faces. At some point in our lives, each one of us will feel as if we are abandoned, whether it is by a friend, our family, society, or even God.
It is a theological crisis, because we struggle with what it means. Our sense of abandonment strikes at the heart of our faith. When we proclaim that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ, what does that mean when it feels like everything in the universe has left us for dead at the side of the road? What do we say when everything we hold dear is stripped away from us?
This is the pain of Good Friday. It is the story that hurts us to tell from year to year, and yet it is the most important story of our faith. This is not happy, this is not a celebration. The story is painful and disturbing, and yet it compels us to listen. The story of Christ’s crucifixion is horrible, brutal, and relentless. It forces us to ask questions that we are not comfortable asking...
In all the accounts of the crucifixion, one of the most troubling accounts is from the Gospel of Mark. It is simple. It is stark. It is brutally short, and seems devoid of any redeeming value.
The most troubling words is the demanding cry that Jesus makes from the cross:
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me??”
It would seem that in the most critical moment of our history, our faith, somehow God does not seem to be there.
From a purely human perspective, God wasn’t there. God had abandoned Jesus. Jagged nails were driven through his wrists and feet. Jesus was pinned to a cross to die a slow, painful, suffocating death... abandoned by friends, scorned by authorities, beaten by soldiers. We sometimes have this distorted image that somehow Jesus enjoyed the suffering that he experienced. It doesn’t work.
Why does Jesus cry out? If we proclaim that Jesus was God incarnate, then why did he cry out to God? On the cross, we see the full humanity of Christ... In Jesus, God experiences what it is to be human, right down to the pain, despair, and rage that many of us feel that somehow God has abandoned us. Even God had to experience what it truly meant to be totally, abandoned, scorned, and left for dead. The irony is this: even God would experience what it meant to feel abandoned by God.
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me??”
Jesus’ demanding cry is far more than a painful and lonely lament from a barren cross. When Mark tells his account of the crucifixion, he layers on top of it the powerful echoes of Psalm 22.
Mark’s account is so brutal, so short, that it seems it has no redeeming value in it at all. No good news, nothing. Jesus dies a lonely, painful death, abandoned to the elements... ashes to ashes... dust to dust...
Yet if we read Mark’s Gospel alone, then we too abandon Jesus upon the cross. The story is barren and cold. It leaves us without any hope.
Mark tells this story filled with nuances. Subtle shifts in the way he tells the story that make it come alive and have real meaning. As painful and as stark as this story is and is meant to be, Mark weaves in seeds of faith that we need to hear. For those who would hear this story in the early church, they could hear those subtle echoes of Psalm 22 whispering in the background. They could hear the righteous sufferer crying out to God in loneliness and abandonment...
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me??”
Jesus makes this cry from the cross...
“But I am a worm, and not human; scorned by others and despised by the people.
All who see me mock me; they make mouths at me, they shake their heads;
‘Commit your cause to the Lord; let him deliver— let him rescue the one in whom he delights!”
On the cross, all who see Jesus mock and scorn him. They shake their heads at him, making mouths and telling him that if he is the Messiah that should come down off the cross. Scorned... mocked... shaking their heads... the parallels are so close:
Mockers:
•The first group pass by, shaking their heads: “let him rebuild the temple...”
•Then the chief priests and scribes mocked him... he saved others, let him save himself.
•Even those who were crucified with him taunted him. (only account of the thief on the cross is in Luke; not here)
“I can count all my bones, they stare and gloat over me;
they divide my clothes among themselves, and for my clothing they cast lots.”
The Roman soldiers cast lots for Jesus’ clothes...
As Mark tells the story of the crucifixion, we Psalm 22 echoes throughout this entire painful episode. To miss that is to miss Mark’s entire point. It is not so much a fulfillment of scripture as it is a deep and resonating connection with it. As brutal and as short as his account of the crucifixion is, Mark weaves in Psalm 22 to bring it meaning...
And that’s where it comes together for us... On no other day during the year are we absolutely forced to deal with the suffering and hardship. On no other day do we feel a more poignant and strong connection with the suffering and pain in this world... For one day out of the year, God calls us to dwell with Christ in his suffering, because on every other day God dwells with us in our experience of life. Even when we cannot feel it. For one day, we remember that even God knows what it is like to feel totally abandoned and helpless. For all the suffering that we see in the world, God has an intimate understanding of it... feels it... knows it... lives it...
So where do we go from here? If Mark layers on Psalm 22 over the story of the crucifixion, what does that mean for us?
Without it, Christ’s death is meaningless. The greatest injustice in history, an innocent teacher executed for no other reason than proclaiming the presence of God. By weaving this lamenting Psalm into this tragic story, Mark brings out a faint thread of trust...
Psalm 22 is not without hope... it is not without its value. It opens with the horrid cry,
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me??”
But it ends with an affirmation of trust. Even when we cannot feel God in our midst it is possible to trust that God is there... amidst the sorrow... amidst the suffering. It doesn’t make it any easier, but it does give it meaning. Mark weaves this story into the crucifixion, and calls us to weave it into our lives and trust...
We are here on Good Friday. For those who witnessed this horrible scene, they did not have the benefit of our hindsight. They did not know what would happen in three days... They did not know what was to come... it felt like God had forsaken them all, and that nothing was left. Mark skillfully preserves this in his brutal account... the feeling of abandonment... loss... hopelessness...
Yet into this, Mark weaves the faint message of hope... of trust... that something will come out of this... Somewhere in the midst of this is good news... So what is the good news? Come back on Easter morning...
Mark 15:21-41
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me??”
What does it feel like to be abandoned? This day is for all of us who know the desperation and despair of being totally alone.
It has been said that one of the first major crises for a child is separation from their parents. The time when a baby cries out, and their parents either do not hear, or do not come. Somehow as we grow older, we encounter this same crises over and over again in different forms. Psychologists and psychiatrists spend a great deal of their time analyzing human anxiety, and separation and abandonment is perhaps one of the greatest ones to touch the human soul. Yet separation is more than just a sense of anxiety, it is a genuine theological crisis that every single one of us faces. At some point in our lives, each one of us will feel as if we are abandoned, whether it is by a friend, our family, society, or even God.
It is a theological crisis, because we struggle with what it means. Our sense of abandonment strikes at the heart of our faith. When we proclaim that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ, what does that mean when it feels like everything in the universe has left us for dead at the side of the road? What do we say when everything we hold dear is stripped away from us?
This is the pain of Good Friday. It is the story that hurts us to tell from year to year, and yet it is the most important story of our faith. This is not happy, this is not a celebration. The story is painful and disturbing, and yet it compels us to listen. The story of Christ’s crucifixion is horrible, brutal, and relentless. It forces us to ask questions that we are not comfortable asking...
In all the accounts of the crucifixion, one of the most troubling accounts is from the Gospel of Mark. It is simple. It is stark. It is brutally short, and seems devoid of any redeeming value.
The most troubling words is the demanding cry that Jesus makes from the cross:
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me??”
It would seem that in the most critical moment of our history, our faith, somehow God does not seem to be there.
From a purely human perspective, God wasn’t there. God had abandoned Jesus. Jagged nails were driven through his wrists and feet. Jesus was pinned to a cross to die a slow, painful, suffocating death... abandoned by friends, scorned by authorities, beaten by soldiers. We sometimes have this distorted image that somehow Jesus enjoyed the suffering that he experienced. It doesn’t work.
Why does Jesus cry out? If we proclaim that Jesus was God incarnate, then why did he cry out to God? On the cross, we see the full humanity of Christ... In Jesus, God experiences what it is to be human, right down to the pain, despair, and rage that many of us feel that somehow God has abandoned us. Even God had to experience what it truly meant to be totally, abandoned, scorned, and left for dead. The irony is this: even God would experience what it meant to feel abandoned by God.
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me??”
Jesus’ demanding cry is far more than a painful and lonely lament from a barren cross. When Mark tells his account of the crucifixion, he layers on top of it the powerful echoes of Psalm 22.
Mark’s account is so brutal, so short, that it seems it has no redeeming value in it at all. No good news, nothing. Jesus dies a lonely, painful death, abandoned to the elements... ashes to ashes... dust to dust...
Yet if we read Mark’s Gospel alone, then we too abandon Jesus upon the cross. The story is barren and cold. It leaves us without any hope.
Mark tells this story filled with nuances. Subtle shifts in the way he tells the story that make it come alive and have real meaning. As painful and as stark as this story is and is meant to be, Mark weaves in seeds of faith that we need to hear. For those who would hear this story in the early church, they could hear those subtle echoes of Psalm 22 whispering in the background. They could hear the righteous sufferer crying out to God in loneliness and abandonment...
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me??”
Jesus makes this cry from the cross...
“But I am a worm, and not human; scorned by others and despised by the people.
All who see me mock me; they make mouths at me, they shake their heads;
‘Commit your cause to the Lord; let him deliver— let him rescue the one in whom he delights!”
On the cross, all who see Jesus mock and scorn him. They shake their heads at him, making mouths and telling him that if he is the Messiah that should come down off the cross. Scorned... mocked... shaking their heads... the parallels are so close:
Mockers:
•The first group pass by, shaking their heads: “let him rebuild the temple...”
•Then the chief priests and scribes mocked him... he saved others, let him save himself.
•Even those who were crucified with him taunted him. (only account of the thief on the cross is in Luke; not here)
“I can count all my bones, they stare and gloat over me;
they divide my clothes among themselves, and for my clothing they cast lots.”
The Roman soldiers cast lots for Jesus’ clothes...
As Mark tells the story of the crucifixion, we Psalm 22 echoes throughout this entire painful episode. To miss that is to miss Mark’s entire point. It is not so much a fulfillment of scripture as it is a deep and resonating connection with it. As brutal and as short as his account of the crucifixion is, Mark weaves in Psalm 22 to bring it meaning...
And that’s where it comes together for us... On no other day during the year are we absolutely forced to deal with the suffering and hardship. On no other day do we feel a more poignant and strong connection with the suffering and pain in this world... For one day out of the year, God calls us to dwell with Christ in his suffering, because on every other day God dwells with us in our experience of life. Even when we cannot feel it. For one day, we remember that even God knows what it is like to feel totally abandoned and helpless. For all the suffering that we see in the world, God has an intimate understanding of it... feels it... knows it... lives it...
So where do we go from here? If Mark layers on Psalm 22 over the story of the crucifixion, what does that mean for us?
Without it, Christ’s death is meaningless. The greatest injustice in history, an innocent teacher executed for no other reason than proclaiming the presence of God. By weaving this lamenting Psalm into this tragic story, Mark brings out a faint thread of trust...
Psalm 22 is not without hope... it is not without its value. It opens with the horrid cry,
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me??”
But it ends with an affirmation of trust. Even when we cannot feel God in our midst it is possible to trust that God is there... amidst the sorrow... amidst the suffering. It doesn’t make it any easier, but it does give it meaning. Mark weaves this story into the crucifixion, and calls us to weave it into our lives and trust...
We are here on Good Friday. For those who witnessed this horrible scene, they did not have the benefit of our hindsight. They did not know what would happen in three days... They did not know what was to come... it felt like God had forsaken them all, and that nothing was left. Mark skillfully preserves this in his brutal account... the feeling of abandonment... loss... hopelessness...
Yet into this, Mark weaves the faint message of hope... of trust... that something will come out of this... Somewhere in the midst of this is good news... So what is the good news? Come back on Easter morning...
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