Psalm 22
“My God, my God, why have your forsaken me?”
If you recognize those words, it’s not surprising. But if the rest of the reading sparked any
memories, you are, in my experience, one of only a few people who are familiar
with the 22nd Psalm. Mostly, Christians
know that first line as one of few phrases that Jesus spoke while on the cross
if they know it at all. I probably
wouldn’t even know that it was connected to a Psalm if I hadn’t had a reason to
look it up when I was younger (seminary).
When I was in Jr. High, my parents Sunday school group had a
get-together at my house. A couple of my
friends were there too, and we were all included in the fun. The first of those “fun” activities was an
ice-breaker where we all had snippets of the gospels taped on our backs and had
to figure out what they were by asking questions of other people. It helped that all the phrases were well-known
quotes from Jesus … well they were supposed to be well-known anyway.
After about ten or fifteen minutes, everyone else had gotten
theirs, but I was at a loss. I had no
idea what my card said, and I couldn’t think of even one more question to
help. Eventually, someone decided that
things had gone far enough and took pity on me by offering the hint that it was
one of the “seven last words of Jesus.”
(By the way, if you’re ever in the same situation, that is not a great
hint to give to a 13-year-old.)
I tried, “It is finished,” “Father, forgive them…,” and
“into your hands I commit my spirit,” and when none of them fit, I left the
room quite embarrassed. Though I would
never have admitted it at the time, what I really wanted was for my mother to
come in and hold me … to reassure me that no one was laughing at me … that I
wasn’t stupid … that everything would be okay.
A couple of minutes later, our pastor came and found me with
a bible (She must have gotten it from my parents because I wouldn’t have known where to find it), and told me to look up
Psalm 22. I read the first line, found
my answer, and went back to the group. Later
that evening, I went back and read the whole thing through a couple of times,
and it opened up the Psalms to me in an entirely new way.
J. Clinton McCann, Jr., calls the opening words of this
Psalm haunting, and they certainly feel that way to me. The psalmist complains of begin forsaken, yet
still addresses God as ‘my God.’ … That points toward the “close personal
attachment” she or he feels to the God who seems to be absent. “Why me?” seems to be the question at the
heart the psalmists lament. “Why has
this God that I know and love forsaken one of [her] own children. Why am I left alone in my time of need?[1]
That’s exactly how I felt that night. No dogs surrounding me. No wild oxen.
Certainly no evildoers in that room.
But the emotions rang true, as I sure they have for all of us at one
time or another. I felt a bit like a
worm, abandoned by my parents, scorned by others, mocked in my own mind for not
knowing what I should have.
I know that’s small beans compared to what the Psalms talk
about, but that’s the power of the Psalms.
They speak to us in the midst of the life we live. They tell the stories of people who have been
in lowest places, surrounded by enemies, and just about ready to throw in the
towel, lie down, and die. People who
would probably have done so already except … except for their faith.
In the midst of the darkness that surrounds them, they call
out in pain and desperation – sometimes in anger. They beg.
They bargain. They blame and
scold God for letting it all happen.
They remind God of the promises that she has made – covenants that
pledge support and love forever. They
find relief and hope in the stories of others who have been in tight spots and
found a way through … with God’s help.
And, … they invite us in to share their experiences.
Psalm 22 is no exception.
We are each invited in to the experience of feeling surrounded by enemies
with no support, an experience that we may remember all too well. We feel our hope and energy abandon us as we
lie down in the dust. We stand on the
verge of giving up and offer up our last prayer for salvation – for any path to
the future. And, along with the author,
we discover with surprise and relief that God is still with us … that God
suffers with us and cares for us. No
matter how bleak the outlook, there is hope and there is reason to offer
thanksgiving and praise.
What does make this Psalm unusual, perhaps one of the reasons
that Jesus quoted it, is that it is not just the lament of one person. It speaks for the whole community as well. Nearly from the beginning the psalmist calls
upon the community’s experience of God’s mercy in the past to provide hope
(however meager) for a renewed future, and as soon as God has heard and
answered the plea for deliverance, the psalmist turns to the congregation,
praising God and inviting everyone to participate.
Then he goes a step further.
He creates a community of the afflicted, the poor, and even those who
are outside of the faith and invites them to come to the table of God’s grace
to be satisfied. Everyone, he says –
everyone in the whole of creation will know the love and care of God. We all will live and serve one another under
the wings of God.[2]
When we came here, there was an average attendance of about
30 people with no little children, and people were tired…. Tired from the extra work of look for a new
pastor. Tired from keeping up with the
work of the Board and the Commissions with so few people. Tired of feeling small and worrying about the
future.
After a while, things began to look a little better. People were coming to share the life of our community. Attendance was up. There was … enough money. And there were enough people to share the
work more evenly. We felt blessed. We felt alive.
Then some of our friends had to leave, and in some ways it
seems like we are back to where we were five years ago. The sanctuary feels a bit empty
sometimes. It often seems like there is
more work than there are people to do it.
And we are disheartened. We feel
as though we are “poured out like water” and all out of joint. Sometimes, … sometimes we feel more than a
little forsaken, but we have not lost faith.
Deep in our hearts we still dare to hope and dream.
O God, our God, why have you
forsaken us?
Why are you so far from helping us,
from our whimpers?We cry out day after day, week after week, and you do not answer.
In the past, we turned to you, and we found comfort.
We trusted in you, and we found hope.
But now, we feel like we are failing.
We have poured ourselves out like water.
We are so tired of this struggle that we feel like giving up.
We worry about what the future will bring (if there is a future for us)
O God, do not leave us alone.
Come dwell with us.
Deliver us from despair.
Save us from the fears and worries that haunt us.
You pull us back from a place of hopelessness and regret,
And we will tell stories of your mercy and grace together.
The power of your love brings songs of thanksgiving and praise to our lips.
for your grace and care give us hope for a bright future.
They promise that everyone who hungers for you will have all that they need.
They remind us that we are never … will never be alone,
for you are Lord of all the Earth.
Wherever we may be, you are there with us – walking with us …
And we shall praise you.
It is a fact of life in this more and more mobile society
(and in a University town especially) that people come and go. But God is with us. God will always be with us, sharing the
sorrows that come, comforting and supporting us when we are filled with worry
or feeling exhausted, holding our hand and leading us forward … into new life.
No comments:
Post a Comment