Preached · May 31, 2015
Text · Psalm 22
My God, My God
Well, if you have your Bibles or your smartphones or your tablets, I invite you to join me in the book of Psalms, chapter 22. The book of Psalms, as you might know, is the prayer book or the songbook of Israel; when they have a worship service, this is the book they use. And as a matter of fact, when the church had a worship service throughout history, this was the songbook that the church used—the book of Psalms. And so this is a collection of prayers and hymns and songs from throughout centuries of Jewish thought and history. They would write down these songs for publication, and they would use them in their congregations. And so we turn to Psalm 22. We're going to look specifically at verses 1 through 5.
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer, and by night, but I find no rest. Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel. In you our fathers trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them. To you they cried and were rescued; in you they trusted, and were not put to shame.
"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Now, I think these are words that have been on our lips—all of our lips—at one point or another in our lives. In more or less dramatic ways, for sure. But we've all had moments when we've wondered, "God, why? Why have you not answered our prayers? Why do you feel so far away?" And it seems like these prayers get more and more intense the older that we get.
When I was a kid—five, six, seven—I really, really wanted the ability to fly. So I'd pray to God with all my might, "God, would you make me able to fly like Superman?" And I'd get up on my couch and jump, and I would say, "God, why?" And once I got a little bit older, I'd be in middle school, and I had this crush on Megan. And I really wanted Megan to like me. So, you know, I wasn't into love potions, but I thought if I could have a love prayer, that'd be great. So, "God, could you please make Megan love me?" And so I finally got done with this secret admirer stuff and finally admitted my love for Megan. She did not return this love. So there I was in the bathroom stall crying, "God, why?"
But as you get older, these get more intense and realistic. After college, Emily had just been laid off from her job. I had just graduated. I couldn't find a job. And so then it's a much more quiet, sorrowful, "God, why? Why aren't you acting on our behalf?" Perhaps for you, you've said these words or something like them through a disease, or through the loss of a loved one, the loss of a relationship, an inability to conceive. Or maybe something terrible has happened in your life and you don't understand it, and so you just say, "God, why? Why have you forsaken me?"
So here's how we're going to approach Psalm 22 this morning. First of all, we're going to look at what the text just says, at some of the features of the text. Secondly, we'll examine what this psalm says about God. Thirdly, we'll look at what this psalm says about humans. And finally, we'll look at how we're meant to respond.
Features of the Text
So, first of all, what does the text actually say? First, this psalm assumes a personal relationship. This refrain of "my God, my God" is repeated throughout Psalm 22. This is a term of closeness, of endearedness. This is a personal relationship. The author assumes intimacy. And so this psalm is not a clinical analysis. It's not a dry, dusty textbook trying to explain why God lets pain happen. This is a passionate plea of someone who's in a relationship with God, and they feel that relationship is gone.
Secondly, the problem that this psalm is dealing with is God's action—or rather, God's lack of action. When I first started studying this psalm, I always assumed that the cry, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" had something to do with God's presence—something to do with feeling God close by. But I don't think that's the case. As we go further into the psalm, we see language about God acting on the author's behalf. So we see language like requests for deliverance and rescue and salvation. Later on, the author writes, "Come quickly to my aid. Deliver my soul from the sword." We see problems of being surrounded and persecuted by enemies, of disease, of torture, of public humiliation. And so I think this psalm is not so much about whether or not we feel God is close by, whether we feel his presence. Really, this is a psalm about unanswered prayer. Why isn't God acting? Why isn't God moving? Why isn't God doing something?
We know that this psalm is on the lips of Jesus when he is hanging on the cross. And he says, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani"—"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" And let's remember that not so many hours before, this same Jesus was in the garden on his knees, praying before the Father, "Father, would you let this cup of suffering pass from me?" And not so many hours later, he's hanging on a cross. The Father had not acted, had not moved to grant Jesus's request. And so from the perspective of Jesus, even if he were aware of God's presence, he still feels abandoned. God had not acted in the way as requested.
The third thing that we notice is that the psalmist, the author, remains in prayer. He uses language like, "I cry, I plead, I groan." He's writing this psalm out. He has not yet given up on God. He has not cut off relationship with God. The psalmist's response to God's seeming lack of action is to keep praying, to keep talking, to keep the conversation going—even as one-sided as it seems.
The fourth thing we notice is that this is questioning God's presence, but it doesn't question God's character. The conversation is brutally honest. It asks honest questions. It admits dark feelings. Psalm 77, further on in our songbook, goes even further. Psalm 77 asks, "Has God's steadfast love ceased? Are his promises over? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he shut up his compassion?" And so these are honest, raw emotions that the psalmist is writing. And yet Psalm 22 holds in tension the fundamental holiness of God. "Yet you are holy," he writes. This psalmist is brutally honest with his questions, with his emotions. He's willing to question God's timing, his nearness, his desire to intervene, but he is not willing to doubt who God fundamentally is.
And finally, the fifth thing that we notice in this psalm is that it recounts history. I think the way that the psalmist is able to keep in mind God's character is that he remembers his people's history. He begins with his own experience, his own emotions, his own feelings, his own sense of abandonment. But then he moves on to the larger history of his family, of his people, of his nation. He's even willing to remember their bad days, and yet he's brought back to the actions of God: "You delivered, you rescued, you did not let them come to shame."
What the Psalm Says About God
So that's what we notice about these five verses. What do we think these verses say about God? I think there are two primary things.
Number one, God doesn't always act the way we want, when we want, how we want. Now, on the one hand, this is not very comforting, obviously. We would like it better if God acted the way we wanted, when we wanted. And there are times when God doesn't act the way that we would like him to, and it makes sense in hindsight. Of course God shouldn't have given me my every wish and dream and desire—to fly, to go out with that one girl. It would have probably destroyed me, particularly the flying part. But there are other times, even in hindsight, when God's lack of action still doesn't make sense. And it's still confusing, and it still makes us angry or feel uneasy.
On the other hand, this reminds us that the God that we worship isn't just a giant sky genie or a cosmic vending machine. And though, at first, this may not sound very comforting, it's probably good to be reminded that the God that we worship isn't just a fantasy we made up, made to answer our every whim. Once our God becomes tame and programmable, he's not God. I think it's also interesting that the Bible that God gave us is an honest one. It doesn't whitewash people's emotions or experiences. God—almighty, all-powerful—let this psalm into his Bible, and let these words reverberate throughout history. God's not scared of our emotions or of our confusedness. He's willing to face it head-on.
Secondly, I think what this psalm tells us about God is that God has a history of being the God who saves. This is what the psalmist moves to. And if we were to keep reading in Psalm 22, we would see this continual motion back and forth between the psalmist's issues and pains and cries and personal or national history: "I feel this way, but I know that you acted this way in the past." The reason that we feel angst when we pray to God and he doesn't seem to answer is that we know that God has answered in the past. "Why wouldn't he now?" we ask. You can almost hear the tones of accusation in the psalmist's words: "Our fathers cried and you listened. Our fathers trusted and you delivered them." But remember that the way that we know who God is is by knowing his deeds of salvation. And overwhelmingly, when we look at God's story, he is the God who answers, the God who hears, the God who saves. And even in this psalm, even in the throes of a relational crisis with the divine, the author has not forgotten God's history of salvation.
What the Psalm Says About Us
Now, what does the psalm say about us? One, I think it says we are prone to forget. What we see is all there is, at times. We tend to live in the present. Any rollercoaster fans here? Yeah, we have some rollercoaster fans. So my experience with rollercoasters is the same every time. I get on the rollercoaster, I'm on the rollercoaster, and it is the worst idea I've ever had. "Why have I done this? This is terrible. This is awful." I get off the rollercoaster: "Oh, I could do that again." We forget so easily. I had this friend in third grade who every time—every time—he got on the merry-go-round, he would throw up. And he would never stop getting on the merry-go-round. Weirdo. We've all had that friend, or been that friend, who's had the worst hangover of their lives and swears off drinking for the rest of their lives, but then, forgetting the past pain, goes out for another night of frivolity.
Or we're also prone to forget our positive experiences. How many of us have thrown around the phrase "you always" or "you never" in a fight with a significant other? We get temporary amnesia because we want to prove our point. And so it is with God at times. When we're trying to make our point with him, "you always" and "you never" become our new favorite phrases. We forget what God has done because all we can see is what God hasn't done yet.
The second thing I think the psalm shows about humans is that we are really sensitive to unanswered prayer. And I think there's something innate within us that recognizes that when things aren't the way they're supposed to be, something's wrong. That's why we're drawn to pray, drawn to cry out for justice in the world and in our lives. And when those prayers aren't answered, we're rightfully bothered. Now, I think this botheredness actually points to a creator. In philosophy, this is called the argument from desire. This is how C.S. Lewis puts it:
Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger; well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim; well, there is such a thing as water. Humans feel sexual desire, and there is such a thing as sex. If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.
And so when we feel this longing, this angst, when we pray and there's no answer, even though it's frustrating and hard, I think it reminds us things aren't the way they're supposed to be. And this longing within us for something this world can't seem to satisfy maybe points to a different world where we belong.
How Do We Respond?
So how do we respond to a psalm like this? There are three things that I have in mind.
Number one, questioning God—his timing, or even his presence—is not a sign of a lack of faith. In fact, engaging honestly before God with your questions, with your doubts, and with your emotions can be the most faith-filled thing that you can do. The opposite of faith is not doubt. The opposite of faith is certainty. Certainty has no room for faith. It has no need for faith. But God doesn't call us to certainty. He calls us to faith. And faith is wide open to questions and doubts and concerns.
It's futile to hide your emotions before God. But it's toxic to hide your emotions from yourself. Let me say that again: it's futile to hide your emotions or your questions before God, but it is toxic to hide them from yourself. This psalm invites us to be naked and bare and honest before God. And it invites us to be honest in our religious community. Remember, the only reason that we can read and talk about this psalm today is because the author was willing to write it down and have it published. And so a spiritual community that smothers questions and emotions and feelings and doubts is not helpful or healthy. We can be honest and still remain in relationship with God. God is not threatened by your emotions or your doubts or your questions.
Number two, unanswered prayers are not a sign of a lack of faith. I hope we can settle this once and for all. Let's remember that Jesus, the very Son of God himself, prayed to the Father that his suffering would be taken away from him, and not too much later he was hanging on a cross. If you want to try to argue it's because Jesus had a lack of faith, be my guest—you hold the lightning rod. Now, seriously, unanswered prayer is not about a lack of faith. About a God we don't fully understand? Sure. About a world that's fallen and broken and unpredictable? Absolutely. But it is not about some hokey system where God needs more faith bucks to be convinced to do nice things. That right there is a nasty theology, and it can get out of here.
Thirdly, worship is the act of remembering and anticipating. Worship is the answer to unanswered prayer. Worship recalls and forecalls. It looks back and it looks forward. When we are worshiping, we are strengthening our spiritual muscles of remembering what God has done and looking forward to what God has promised to do. And so this is the psalmist's response. He begins with his cries of, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Yet as we read further on into the psalm, he moves to praise and to worship, remembering God's past acts of salvation and looking forward to what God has promised.
And we as Christians, we even have a clearer image, a clearer picture than the psalmist did, of what God has promised. We look forward to a day when there are no more tears or suffering or pain. We look forward to a day when death has died, where the grave has no sting, and where all of our sorrows are met with the weight of glory and joy of the world remade. This is how Psalm 22 ends:
I will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you. You who fear the Lord, praise him. All you offspring of Jacob, glorify him. Stand in awe of him, all you offspring of Israel. For he did not despise or abhor the affliction of the afflicted. He did not hide his face from me, but heard when I cried to him.
This is a transcript of the sermon as preached, lightly edited for readability.
