From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over all the land. 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 27:45-46

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest. Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the one Israel praises. In you our ancestors put their trust; they trusted and you delivered them. To you they cried out and were saved; in you they trusted and were not put to shame. But I am a worm and not a man, scorned by everyone, despised by the people. All who see me mock me; they hurl insults, shaking their heads. “He trusts in the Lord,” they say, “let the Lord rescue him. Let him deliver him, since he delights in him.” Yet you brought me out of the womb; you made me trust in you, even at my mother’s breast. From birth I was cast on you; from my mother’s womb you have been my God. Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no one to help. Many bulls surround me; strong bulls of Bashan encircle me. Roaring lions that tear their prey open their mouths wide against me. I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint. My heart has turned to wax; it has melted within me. My mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth; you lay me in the dust of death. Dogs surround me, a pack of villains encircles me; they pierce my hands and my feet. All my bones are on display; people stare and gloat over me. They divide my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment. But you, Lord, do not be far from me. You are my strength; come quickly to help me. Deliver me from the sword, my precious life from the power of the dogs. Rescue me from the mouth of the lions; save me from the horns of the wild oxen. I will declare your name to my people; in the assembly I will praise you. You who fear the Lord, praise him! All you descendants of Jacob, honor him! Revere him, all you descendants of Israel! For 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. From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly; before those who fear you I will fulfill my vows. The poor will eat and be satisfied; those who seek the Lord will praise him— may your hearts live forever! All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the Lord, and all the families of the nations will bow down before him, for dominion belongs to the Lord and he rules over the nations. All the rich of the earth will feast and worship; all who go down to the dust will kneel before him— those who cannot keep themselves alive. Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord. They will proclaim his righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it!
—Psalms 22:1-31

When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.
—John 19:30

~~~~~

Forsaken Yet Fulfilled
By Jennifer Kane

Hanging in agony, He bows His head,
Bearing the curse, the weight of dread.
A psalm on His lips, an ancient plea:
“My God, My God, why forsake me?”

Words of David, echoed now,
As death’s dark shadow veils His brow.
They circle Him—like lions fierce,
Their glares and scorn His soul do pierce.

“All who see me mock and sneer”—
Prophetic lines grow harshly clear.
“He trusted God—let Him be saved!”
The voices cry, sharp and depraved.

“I am a worm,” despised, disowned,
As soldiers jeer and hearts are stoned.
No pity found, no comfort near—
Only hate, only sneer.

The Savior hangs, alone, reviled,
Each prophecy fulfilled and styled.
“They pierced my hands, my feet,” He knows,
As iron through His body goes.

No bone is broken, yet wounds abound
Upon this holy battleground.
Blood and sorrow, poured for all—
In silence, He obeys the call.

They cast their lots, they roll the dice,
For garments stained at priceless price.
“They divide my clothes,” the Scriptures say,
While angels weep and skies turn gray.

“It is finished,” the Savior cries—
The veil is torn, the sacrifice.
Made sin for us, He bears the cost,
Redeeming all who once were lost.

Fulfillment sealed in final breath,
Love’s victory declared through death.
“I am poured out,” His bones laid bare,
Yet in the pain, He lifts a prayer.

The Lamb who bears the world’s disgrace
Still holds hope’s light upon His face.
Though silence grips the midday sky,
He trusts the dawn is drawing nigh.

“I will declare Your name, my King,”
Though crushed, my soul will rise and sing.
For from the grave, new life will spring—
And joy will sound, an endless ring.

From every nation, tribe, and tongue,
To Him whose praise is ever sung.
And as He dies, the psalm is known:
Fulfilled in sorrow, love is sown.

The world will see, and nations call
To Him who suffered once for all.
For from His pain comes joy and peace,
And through His death, all strivings cease.

So on that cross, with Psalm in mind,
The Savior’s love and truth aligned—
Prophetic words now fully shown:
In Christ, our hope, salvation grown.

~~~~~

Scriptures: Matthew 27:45-46, Psalms 22:1-31, John 19:30

Good Friday. A day stained with suffering, shadowed by sorrow, and marked by the silence of heaven as Jesus hangs on the cross.

As He cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46), Jesus is not only expressing His agony but echoing the opening line of Psalm 22. To the watching crowd, it may have seemed like a cry of defeat—but to those who knew the Scriptures, it was a declaration that God’s ancient promise was being fulfilled.

Psalm 22 is a tapestry of prophecy and pain. It describes, with eerie accuracy, the crucifixion centuries before it was invented:
“They pierce my hands and my feet” (v.16)
“They divide my garments among them and cast lots for my clothing” (v.18)
“All who see me mock me” (v.7)

Yet this Psalm doesn’t end in despair. It turns.
“You who fear the Lord, praise him! … For 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.” (vv.23-24)

Jesus bore the full weight of sin, the silence of God, and the wrath of judgment—but it was not the end of the story. Psalm 22 moves from abandonment to adoration. And so does the cross.

Good Friday reminds us of the cost of love. But it also whispers of Sunday. The Savior who was pierced will rise with healing in His wings. The tomb that held Him will be empty. The sorrow of Friday will give way to the song of resurrection.

Today, we mourn—but not as those without hope. We remember the suffering—but we also remember the promise. For every cry of forsakenness, there is a shout of victory. For every nail, a new beginning.

~~~~~

Lord Jesus, thank You for enduring the cross, for fulfilling every word of Scripture, and for not turning away from suffering. Help me carry the weight of today with reverence, and the hope of tomorrow with joy. I trust that Your story—and mine—will not end in despair, but in resurrection. Amen.

April 18 2025