Psalms 22:2 NIVUK
[2] My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest. https://bible.com/bible/113/psa.22.2.NIVUK
I work from home. In a drawer in my desk is a cheap plastic and paper photo album. The corners are a little worn. The pictures a little faded. I would not dare try to remove them from the album in case they got stuck and tore.
But that album is very important to me.
That album was used as photographic evidence – in the days before Photoshop and other tools – to prove to the UK Embassy in Manila that my wife and I knew each other before we got married. It proved as much as we could that our relationship was not fake.
Although that album was couriered twice to the British Embassy and back again, it played its part in my wife obtaining a UK spouse visa, which meant I was able to bring her to Scotland.
So that cheap album, that even now we have to be careful with when we open, is very important to us.
To other people, I doubt it would have the same value. But to us, it is of inestimable value.
Psalm 22, to most non-Christians, might be an interesting piece of ancient Hebrew poetry.
But to every Christian, this Psalm has a deep emotional value, all because of one critical event:
Matthew 27:45-46 NIVUK
[45] From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over all the land. [46] 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?’).
Jesus here is quoting – in Aramaic, the street language of the average Jew, not high Hebrew, the language of religion – from Psalm 22:1.
And He is doing it from the cross, while the last drops of life blood and the last lungfuls of oxygen are fleeing from His body.
That makes this Psalm extra special.
It contains the cries of a dying Saviour, thousands of years before His state-sponsored killing took place.
These words are highly significant.
This Psalm is highly significant.
But we should understand it for what it is and not what it is not.
On first glance, it seems like a cry of despair – like that of an abandoned child left in a doorway or an orphanage.
I have experienced that. I was in an AIDS hospice for abandoned children in Cernavodă, Romania, when a partially-sighted, disabled child shuffled himself along a wall and asked me, ‘Are you my daddy?’
There is nothing – nothing I have ever experienced in this life, or likely ever will – that has cut me to the heart as deeply as that.
Psalm 22 is not a cry of despair.
It is, however, a cry of abandonment.
There are three languages used to reflect the emotion here: Hebrew, Greek and Aramaic.
They all reflect an feeling of neglect, of being left defenceless and weak in harm’s way, in deep distress and pain.
That is how David felt.
That is how Jesus felt.
But I still say this may have been a cry of deep distress, but not of despair.
No, it is a cry of hope.
The pain is real. There is no escaping that.
But the hope is also real. Palpably real.
Because this is a cry to God: the God who hears, who understands, who acts.
In the four sections of this Psalm, David speaks about the root cause of his distress: God seems far from him. We will follow each of these cries about this distance and watch as he journeys from despair to hope. We will also correlate these to the suffering of the Saviour who spoke these words from the cross. And there, in the sweetness of sorrow turned to joy, we will discover the greatness of the God we worship and adore.
Firstly, let’s look at The Question.
And it is that spine-chilling question from both Jesus and David that we will examine:
Psalms 22:1-10 NIVUK
[1] My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? [2] My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest. [3] Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the one Israel praises. [4] In you our ancestors put their trust; they trusted and you delivered them. [5] To you they cried out and were saved; in you they trusted and were not put to shame. [6] But I am a worm and not a man, scorned by everyone, despised by the people. [7] All who see me mock me; they hurl insults, shaking their heads. [8] ‘He trusts in the Lord,’ they say, ‘let the Lord rescue him. Let him deliver him, since he delights in him.’ [9] Yet you brought me out of the womb; you made me trust in you, even at my mother’s breast. [10] From birth I was cast on you; from my mother’s womb you have been my God.
This question is one which many of us ask: why?
Why do I feel the way I do?
Why am I suffering as I am?
Why have things that went right for other people gone wrong for me?
Or to take up the question asked by 1980’s pop giants the Pet Shop Boys, what have I done to deserve this?
That is what David is asking.
He sees three main arguments why he should escape suffering:
· God’s sovereignty – He is enthroned and in control. That being the case, why is there suffering?
· David’s ancestry – his history and that of his nation is littered with many who benefited from both God's blessing and His intervention, yet it is not happening for David and he can’t see why.
· David’s maternity – he was born to a mother who led him to faith. Being of good ‘righteous’ stock, David cannot see how a man like him should be suffering.
Do these arguments seem familiar? They are among the many – the very many – still used by Christians today when the heat is turned up and life becomes hard.
But there is a cold, hard truth here that we need to understand: none of these pedigrees exempt us from hard times.
Neither are they any form of evidence that God is not in control, or that God is not sovereign, or that God is not good.
Recently, the former captain of the Liverpool and Scotland football (soccer) teams Graeme Souness struggled with this. As a player, he was a midfielder and a hard man.
He wasn’t one of those players who just took the ball from you. When he tackled am opposition player and got the ball, it was quite usual for him to leave his opponent with cuts and bruises as a souvenir of the moment.
But this hard man was reduced to tears when he was doing charity work and came across a young girl whose nerves are attacked every day by her own immune system, causing her immense pain.
Her suffering reduced the hard man to tears. It also utterly destroyed his faith. He proclaimed on TV that he was now an atheist because he could not see how a good God could inflict such suffering on a child.
And do you know what? I have no answers to that question either, because I am not God.
What I can say is that God can use seemingly unjust and brutal suffering for the good of the person suffering, even though they, and those who care for them, can see no earthly good in it.
For example, from the pen of a Christian man who suffered more than most:
Romans 8:28-30 NIVUK
[28] And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. [29] For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. [30] And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.
Around twenty years ago, we had an uncomfortable experience that is common for many parents: we took our baby to be vaccinated.
I don’t know if you have ever seen the face of a baby as a needle is going into their arm. It’s quite a tough thing to see. Our child was very aware of her surroundings. She couldn’t talk yet, but you could see, ‘This hurts. Why are you doing it to me?’ all over her face.
Now, I am aware that there is a vocal, but thankfully small, group of people who don’t support vaccinations – their cynicism being born not out of any scientific objections, but out of the reprehensible behaviour of Big Pharma in their nation – and may even view inoculations as a form of child abuse. I do not.
But there is no doubt that a small child does not understand the nuances of such a debate.
They just feel the pain. They know nothing of what vaccinations do.
So it is with suffering: David’s and ours. We don’t understand what is going on above our heads in the spiritual realm. We just feel the pain.
In those circumstances, asking ‘Why?’ is fully permitted.
Just be careful that you can tolerate the answer.
Even Jesus asked this question.
However, the circumstances when He asked it were altogether different.
I believe two things were happening then.
Firstly, I – and millions of other Christians – believe that something of utterly cosmic proportions was taking place.
On 1917, New Zealander Earnest Rutherford split the atom at Manchester University, England.
On 6th August 1945, the plane the Enola Gay dropped the world's first atomic bombs over Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan. The damage inflicted was the worst ever by a man-made disaster in human history. It was utterly devastating.
Spiritually, what happened on the cross was far bigger. Because there it wasn’t an atom that was split, it was the Godhead. God the Father turned His back on God the Son.
And the reason for this incredible, mind-blowing, earth-shaking, curtain-tearing event?
Our sin.
2 Corinthians 5:21 NIVUK
[21] God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
So, you see, when Jesus cried out the devastating words of Psalm 22:1, He meant it. He really had been abandoned by His Father God, who really was far from His groaning.
But I also believe that Jesus was pointing to Psalm 22 as a clue for what would follow. And as we go through the Psalm, you will see why.
So we see, then, the deep question that is not, in this case, asked flippantly, but genuinely, from the tender heart of a man who is genuinely suffering.
Today, if you find yourself in a dark night of the soul, and if you are wondering why God put you there despite being sovereign and the God of love, then I want you to take deep comfort from what we have learned. Jesus Christ was there too. Jesus Christ was in agony.
Jesus Christ asked the question.
So we move on then from the question – big, deep and far-reaching though it is – to The Tension.
Psalms 22:11-18 NIVUK
[11] Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no-one to help. [12] Many bulls surround me; strong bulls of Bashan encircle me. [13] Roaring lions that tear their prey open their mouths wide against me. [14] 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. [15] 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. [16] Dogs surround me, a pack of villains encircles me; they pierce my hands and my feet. [17] All my bones are on display; people stare and gloat over me. [18] They divide my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment.
That tension is inside the sufferer – David, in this case. It is the tension of knowing that you are in a bad situation, it only seems to be getting worse, and there is no way out. And you did not expect to be there.
Dread would also be an appropriate word for this situation.
And no wonder.
David uses three pictures to describe the savagery of the attack. Those three pictures are firstly of bulls – from a strong enemy of Israel’s in modern-day Syrian: Bashan.
The Israelites had previously faced Og King of Bashan in battle and defeated him (Numbers 21:33-35; Deuteronomy 3:1-7). The Bashan region consisted of sixty well fortified cities with their villages, but the Israelites had destroyed them all, despite Og being from a legendary tribe of giants (Joshua 12:5-6).
His territory was taken by the tribes of Gad (1 Chronicles 5:16).
Bashan was an area also known for its livestock (see Amos 4:1 for an image that uses this reputation), so David is likely using that picture of strength, fortification and fierceness as an image of those who are attacking him.
He also talks of his attackers as roaring lions – an image with which he was all too familiar, having been a shepherd boy before he became king (1 Samuel 17:34-36).
He also uses the picture of a pack of dogs encircling him. I have experienced this while in Romania. It is a terrifying thing.
But the word ‘dog’ in Jewish thinking also referred to those who were uncircumcised foreigners (see Mark 7:27-29 for an example). David here is hinting at the unrestrained immorality of those who are pursuing him.
So David is being attacked by strong, savage opponents who seemingly will stop at nothing to destroy him.
David also describes the symptoms of the attack. And these are, quite frankly, brutal:
Psalms 22:14-18 NIVUK
[14] 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. [15] 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. [16] Dogs surround me, a pack of villains encircles me; they pierce my hands and my feet. [17] All my bones are on display; people stare and gloat over me. [18] They divide my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment.
Now, here’s where the truly unsettling truth sets in:
This could easily be a detailed description of what happens during crucifixion.
The cross was raised, with the victim nailed to it, and then dropped mercilessly into a hole in the ground, the jolt from which would knock the victim’s joints out of place.
The strain on the victim's heart of the indescribable agony of crucifixion would be intense and unrelenting.
Victims were left, routinely without water, in the heat of the sun and would very quickly dehydrate, just from the sheer effort of breathing.
Hands and feet were pierced to attach the victim to the cross.
In general, and in Jesus’ case in particular, people would, grotesquely, mock the afflicted with macabre humour and jeering (Matthew 27:41-44; Mark 15:31-32; Luke 23:35).
And worse, verse 18 was fulfilled exactly, by sick Roman soldiers, close to the cross:
John 19:23-25 NIVUK
[23] When the soldiers crucified Jesus, they took his clothes, dividing them into four shares, one for each of them, with the undergarment remaining. This garment was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom. [24] ‘Let’s not tear it,’ they said to one another. ‘Let’s decide by lot who will get it.’ This happened that the scripture might be fulfilled that said, ‘They divided my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment.’ So this is what the soldiers did.
But here’s the incredible thing: when David wrote these words, crucifixion had not yet been invented by the Persians and would not be invented for hundreds of years.
Isn’t that extraordinary?
David wrote about crucifixion hundreds of years before it was even a thing!
But there is something even more remarkable in these verses. David is – I believe – describing how he sees his own suffering. Hundreds of years later, Jesus bore that suffering on the cross. Every last bit of it.
Jesus stepped into David's world. And your world. And mine.
Hebrews 4:14-16 NIVUK
[14] Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. [15] For we do not have a high priest who is unable to feel sympathy for our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are – yet he did not sin. [16] Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.
Jesus knows every iota, every moment, every cell, of what it means to be human, because He became human. He walked the same earth as you and I.
He knows how we feel. Intimately.
When you have a small child and you don’t give them what they want, sometimes they throw a tantrum and yell, ‘But you don’t understand!’
The thing is: you do. Because when you were younger, you were like them.
Sometimes when we are undergoing hard times, when we are passing through a dark night of the soul, it feels like we are helplessly alone; that no-one understands.
But Jesus does.
Intimately.
So we have seen the question – why are we suffering? And we have seen the tension that comes when we expect good, but find ourselves facing evil, and how Jesus Himself stepped into it.
The third section of this Psalm is about The Call.
Psalms 22:19-21 NIVUK
[19] But you, Lord, do not be far from me. You are my strength; come quickly to help me. [20] Deliver me from the sword, my precious life from the power of the dogs. [21] Rescue me from the mouth of the lions; save me from the horns of the wild oxen. https://bible.com/bible/113/psa.22.19-21.NIVUK
Now, this is very interesting.
David is doing something here that he does throughout the Psalms. He is not asking God to bring order to his chaos. Instead, he is asking the God he already recognises as sovereign to intervene in his life and defeat those who are attacking him.
This is not, as some would assert, some form of ‘Bat signal’ for God to come and intervene like a superhero. Instead, this is more like a petition to a king to intervene into a situation where He is already in control.
That is why we see these verses:
Philippians 4:6-7 NIVUK
[6] Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. [7] And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. https://bible.com/bible/113/php.4.6-7.NIVUK
Do you see it?
At no point – no point whatsoever – does the Bible give any indication that God is ever not in control of what is happening to us. We might not understand it. We might question it. We might even doubt it. Even great, respected Bible characters have these thoughts.
But God is still in control.
And that is why David prays to Him.
But what is David asking for? How does he want his God to intervene?
Three ways:
· Help. Whenever we want someone else’s help, we are admitting that we don’t have the resources to cope with our situation; that they are strong in an area where we are weak. David has no issue admitting this and asks for God to come to his aid.
· Deliverance. David wants God to pluck and snatch him away from the ill-intentioned clutches of his enemies.
· Rescue. The word literally means ‘to save’ or ‘to liberate’. David wants God to free him from the intention of those who wish to destroy him.
The call for God to intervene is the end of anxiety, because when we have faith in God’s ability and character to get involved in our life, then we find ourselves not at all concerned about the storm brewing around us. We are the opposite of Peter (Matthew 14:29-30): we do not see the wind and the waves; we see only Jesus.
Again here, we see mention of the three wild beasts: dogs, lions, wild bulls (a more accurate translation of the word for ‘oxen’ that is used here). Yet the secret to overcoming them in their beastly savagery is not to become more beastly or more savage than them, but to trust in God.
As David proclaimed in another Psalm:
Psalms 55:22 NIVUK
[22] Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken.
This, then, is the secret to overcoming, when our head is full of questions and we face the tension of what we think life should be and what it is. This, then, is the peace in the eye of the storm. This, then, is the cool, strong hand on the tiller in the wildest of seas.
This, then, is the soul that trusts in God.
So after the question, the tension and the call, we see The Answer.
And what an answer!
Psalms 22:22-31 NIVUK
[22] I will declare your name to my people; in the assembly I will praise you. [23] You who fear the Lord, praise him! All you descendants of Jacob, honour him! Revere him, all you descendants of Israel! [24] 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. [25] From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly; before those who fear you I will fulfil my vows. [26] The poor will eat and be satisfied; those who seek the Lord will praise him – may your hearts live for ever! [27] 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, [28] for dominion belongs to the Lord and he rules over the nations. [29] 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. [30] Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord. [31] They will proclaim his righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it! https://bible.com/bible/113/psa.22.22-31.NIVUK
I don’t know if you have ever experienced a great celebration. It’s nice to be happy at home.
It’s a good feeling.
But to celebrate with many thousands of people, especially if something previously unlikely has happened, that is something completely different.
There is absolutely no doubt here that David is throwing a massive party, and look who are invited;
· Those who fear the Lord
· The descendants of Jacob/Israel
· The poor
· Those who seek the Lord
· All the ends of the earth and families of nations
· The rich
· The future generations
What an invitation list!
And why is this? What turns David’s mourning into exuberant dancing?
Four words in English.
Just one in Hebrew.
The very last word of this Psalm.
‘He has done it.’
Or a word that could equally be translated ‘He has accomplished this’.
Or maybe even...
John 19:30 NIVUK
[30] ‘It is finished.’
Unlike the other Psalms we have studied, in this one David’s enthusiastic celebrations are because God has fulfilled His promises. He has rescued David from his foes. And that is to be celebrated.
However, I want you to notice some things about this Psalm.
David asks ‘Why?’
God gives him no answer.
David experiences the tension between expectation and brutal reality.
God gives him no explanation.
David cries out for rescue.
God comes, but leaves him for a while in his suffering.
There is joy here – such great joy that all the trials of life are just a distant and forgotten memory.
But God does not tell David why it happened in the first place.
Job also received no explanation for his suffering.
Men who were better, more spiritual, closer to God than we could ever even dream of suffered deeper than we would ever imagine, and yet receive no reason from God while they are alive.
What they receive is something far more special.
The father of a friend of mine used to work in a refinery where the fumes often had a negative effect on his lungs. He was told to drink milk to counteract it. I'm not sure how effective that would have been.
A scientist could have explained to him in detail how those fumes were impacting his lungs.
That would have been nice to know. But would it have reduced the comfort and restored their function?
No.
Knowledge of the ‘Why?’ can’t ever cure the ‘What?’
God had a better idea.
He sent Jesus.
Jesus walked our walk. He endured our trials. He bore our hatred. He died our death. He understands our humanity better than anyone – even better than we do – because He created us, He lived like us and He died for us.
And He too sung the song of salvation.
Because He too saw the end of His sufferings. He too was raised by God (Acts 2:24). And because of this, He can lead us to freedom from our sufferings if we follow Him.
But we cannot be mistaken. For Jesus to gain deliverance from His suffering, He had to die.
Some of us may be freed from the pain. And that is a glorious, miraculous thing.
But some may not. Some may only know deliverance when they die and go to be with the Lord.
Either way, we will be delivered. We will be free.
There will be an end to our suffering.
I read recently of a passenger who boarded a plane, strolled nonchalantly into the first class cabin, placed all his belongings in the overhead locker and settled in for the flight.
Small problem: his ticket was only for Economy.
The person who had actually paid for that first class seat showed up and asked the Economy passenger to move back to the Economy cabin.
‘But why should I move? I’ve already settled in. You can have my seat.’ the Economy passenger argued, rather cheekily.
Plane stewards got involved. After quite a heated argument, the Economy interloper was eventually shepherded back to the seat he had paid for and the first class passenger got the seat he had paid for.
Life is like that. You get what you pay for.
You cannot expect all the privileges of first class if you only pay for Economy.
Likewise, you cannot expect all the blessings of victory over suffering and pain if you have no place at all for God in your life.
All along in this Psalm, right from the off, David is not slow to admit that he does not have all the answers, that he is weak and vulnerable and needs God's help. It is because of this that help comes.
Grace, and help in times of trouble, come to those who admit they need it, not to those who argue that they can get through life on their own.
Friend, this is a wonderful Psalm. It might start with a question that is never answered, and move through a faith that seems to be without evidence, but in the end we see joy without limit, and a Friend in times of deepest trouble.
Why?
Because David put his faith in God, despite the pain, despite the questions, despite the tension between what he would expect and what was actually happening.
If you want that guaranteed way out of trouble that will never fail, then you need to put your faith in God like David did.
And my prayer is that you will do so.
Prayer
Lord Jesus, I don’t understand what is happening to me. But maybe I don’t need to. Help me instead to trust You and seek Your companionship, because I know that You know deeply how it feels to be me. Amen.
Questions
1. David asked why he was suffering. Did God answer this question? Why?
2. Psalm 22 is prophetic of a great Biblical event. Which one? In the context of this Psalm, why is that important?
3. Does everyone’s suffering always end? Why / why not? How can we guarantee ourselves a way out of our suffering?
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