As we reflect upon Calvary and the Spirit of God leads us there in our hearts, I remind you of another of Jesus' statements, this one found in Matthew 27, where it says, about the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani, which means, my God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Of the seven final statements of Jesus from the cross, I don't believe there is one that is filled with more mystery, or one that is more moving than this one in which Jesus asks God why.
It is, of course, a quotation from the Old Testament. It is the first verse of Psalm 22, which was penned by Jesus' human forefather, King David. David was probably lamenting some extremely difficult experience in his own life, which was then followed by God's gracious deliverance. And in that context, he actually asks three questions. He says, my God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me? Why so far from the words of my groaning?
David's words and Jesus' are words of a soul in agony, asking the question, why? It is the question that was asked in a church in Dunblane, Scotland, a few weeks ago. Pastor Alan MacLeod, who ministers at the Free Church of Scotland in Dunblane, addressed his people on the Sunday following the killings of 16 children in the kindergarten, plus their teacher. He preached that Sunday morning about evil and noted in his message the only cure for such evil.
The next day he was interviewed by a reporter from World Magazine. And he said, we went yesterday to the cross at Golgotha. And we considered the cry of the Lord, my God, my God, why have you forsaken me? We considered the cry that Jesus uttered from the cross, why? The reporter goes on to write in his own words, why? That's a good question to ask after such a horrible deed. That question leads to an answer. There is sin in the world. And only one act of God can redeem every man's wickedness.
And it is that one act of God that we contemplate this afternoon as we gather here. Who of us has not asked at some point in his life or her life, why? In the midst of agonizing bewilderment or searing solitary pain, who of us has not asked, why? Perhaps it was sitting at the edge of a hospital bed where bad news had just been delivered, or standing beside the casket of a young child, or crying alone in the shadows, or watching an elderly parent slowly sink into Alzheimer's.
Who has not asked why? And so when Jesus cries from his cross, why? He asks a question that the human race has asked many times. We note that Jesus' cry was a cry of agony. We can only begin to understand something of the physical anguish he was enduring on the cross. Suffocation was the most cruel form of execution ever devised by man. It is impossible for one who is crucified to find any relief in the hours of his torture. It is impossible to rest when hanging on a cross.
And because of the fear of suffocation, because of the position of the body, there is the constant pressure, the constant fear for the next breath that one has. So Jesus' cry was a cry of agony. But was Jesus perplexed as we are sometimes when we ask that question why? Was he confused as to what was taking place? Is that why he cried out, why my God have you forsaken me?
I think we can understand a bit more of all of this when we see that his cry was not only one of agony, but it was a cry out of darkness. The scripture says that he was crucified beginning at nine o'clock in the morning. And then it was about noon, after three hours of his agony, that things began to change. The sky grew unusually dark and black. It was not the clouds came over the sun.
It was not that there was a solar eclipse, for the sun and the moon at the time of Passover cannot be in a position to cause an eclipse. Something supernatural was taking place as the sky grew dark. A shroud was drawn over that crime scene, where the heinous act of humanity against the Son of God was taken out. This darkness that came over that scene may well have been a worldwide darkness, and how appropriate if in fact that were the case.
John MacArthur summarizes some of the extra biblical references to supernatural darkness in the whole world on that day. The early church father, Origen, reported a statement by a Roman historian who mentioned such a darkness that occurred throughout the Roman Empire. And another of the early church fathers, whose name was Tertullian, wrote to some pagan acquaintances of his about an unusual darkness on that day.
And in the letter to them he said, which wonder is related in your own annals and preserved in your own archives to this day? In other words, even the pagans had noted in their records that there was this darkness that could not be explained that occurred on that day. And there is some reference to a report from Pilate to Emperor Tiberius that assumed the emperor's knowledge of a certain widespread darkness, even mentioning that it occurred from 12 to 3 in the afternoon.
And so this was not a localized thing most probably. This was a worldwide phenomenon. And Jesus cried out of that darkness. But the darkness was more than a physical darkness. It was a darkness that was spiritual. For darkness in the Bible is associated with judgment. It is mentioned that way in Exodus, in Joel, Amos, in Zephaniah, all of whom link darkness with divine judgment.
Jesus himself in the Gospel of Matthew three times describes hell not only as a place of fiery torment, but as a place of outer darkness. And Peter and Jude speak of angels who because of their heinous sin are kept in darkness awaiting their final judgment. And so this darkness that occurred at Golgotha on that day and around the world was a darkness that symbolized judgment from God which was inflicted upon Christ. It pleased God to bruise him, for he bore our sins on the cross.
Listen to these statements of Scripture that undergird what I'm saying. He was delivered up because of our transgressions. He died for our sins according to the Scriptures. He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross. He died for sins once for all, the just for the unjust. He who knew no sin became sin on our behalf. Think of it.
Think of it, all of the lusting, all of the adultery, all of the lying, all of the cheating, all of the greed, of all of the ages placed upon Christ as he died in that darkness. The result of the sin being placed upon him was the separation of himself from his father for the first and only time in all of eternity. This was not a separation of substance. It was not a separation of nature. He was still God the Son even during that darkness.
But during that time there was a loss of intimacy and fellowship with his father. And what occurred in nature was nothing more than an astronomical manifestation of what had occurred in the spirit realm. And it is in that context that Jesus cries out, why? It is a wail of a soul in aloneness, a soul experiencing abandonment. It is the cry of one who knows the silence of heaven, of one who is brokenhearted. Now understand that when Jesus asked the question why, he knew why.
He was not confused and perplexed. Psalm 22 goes on to answer the very question that was asked, why? asks David. And yet he says, you are enthroned as the Holy One of Israel. So he knows that this loss of the fellowship with God is because of sin. And the Son of God knew that as well. And he died there as a man. And so he expresses himself as a man. He was the representative man. He did not die in confusion and disillusionment. He died understanding what he was doing.
And yet he died as a man, and to illustrate his humanity, he cries out, why have you forsaken me? But I think there is something more. It was for our sake that he cried out as he did, so that we might begin to grasp the extent of his suffering and the expanse of his love. And if you today are crying out in your soul a question why, why my God?
If that question is on your parched lips today as it was on the lips of Jesus, then know that there is one who is true man, who understands what you're passing through. But one who went on to experience what David expressed in verse 24 of Psalm 22, God has not despised or disdained the suffering of his afflicted one. He has not hidden his face from him, but has listened to his cry for help. And God hears your cry.
Shuttered in this moment of aloneness, even as he heard the cry of his son, and as surely as God answered the cry of his son, so he will answer your cry. Elizabeth Browning captures so well in four lines what is taking place in the text we are looking at. Yea, once Emmanuel's orphaned cry his universe hath shaken. It went up single, echoless, my God, I am forsaken. It went up from the holy lips amid his lost creation, that of the lost no son should use those words of desolation.
His orphaned cry was so that you might not ever have to give a cry like that of separation from God for eternity. Another poet in our day has captured the same thought when he writes, why did they nail him to Calvary's tree? Why tell me why was he there? Jesus the helper, the healer, the friend, why tell me why was he there? All my iniquities on him were laid. He nailed them all to the tree. Jesus the debt of my sin fully paid. He paid the ransom for me. And that's what it's about.
And that's why the cross, and that's why Jesus endured abandonment by his father in those hours of torment for you and for me, that we among the lost might not have to cry out with such an orphaned cry as he knew. Let's pray. Father, today as we contemplate the cross and our Lord Jesus and His suffering there, may our hearts be broken, may our hearts rejoice as we understand why, why He was forsaken for our sake. Amen.