“MY GOD, MY GOD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?”

I once read an article that described the garden of Gethsemane as a crossroad where the humanity and divinity of Jesus meet. It is more than a crossroads it is an intersection where these two ingredients in the character and nature of Jesus collide. It was here surrounded by living things, in a place of life, tranquility and serenity that Jesus was forced to face his greatest battle. He must face this struggle, agony, distress and despair alone. I can think of no place where the words of that old hymn are as true as here. “He has to walk that lonesome valley. He has to walk it by himself. No body else can walk it for him. He has to walk it, by himself.” It is here in a garden on the mount of Olives through which the brook Kidron flows, that the world will change and never be the same again.

The die was cast for Rome when in 49 BC Caesar and his Army crossed the Rubicon river. The Senate and other remnants of the Roman Republic were changed forever. Rome becomes an Empire and the world will cringe in fear and fall before its awesome power.

So too, will all nations, people and human history tremble before the power and presence of the king of kings who will cross the brook Kidron (“every knee will bow”)! The die is cast as he asserts in the final words of his prayer, “not my will but yours be done!” He must cross Kidron and he must change the world forever (“your will be done!”). It is with despair, distress and great difficulty that Jesus navigates this dangerous intersection only to face a more torturous juncture in time and space only a few short hours in his own future.

It is an ugly foreboding future filled with hours of torture, humiliation, depravity, degradation, desertion and death. In what is perilously close to his final breath he cries out in tortured agony, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” The pain in his body and soul as well as the question on his lips must have pierced his father’s heart like a million fiery arrows. It is a cry that shook the gates of heaven and shattered the gates of hell. The thunderous voice a shout that echoes through the corridors of time. His words sweeping history aside and crushing sin in there wake, not for an instant but from eternity past to eternity yet future. This is followed by his solitary shout of victory (“It is finished!”). This is a scream, which issues forth from the very core of his being, from the essence of this God/Man.

No call for Elijah was this, but something more guttural, more basic like the song of a helpless soul in a hopeless situation. In the darkness that covered the earth when the sun’s warmth and brightness should have ruled the day. Mark says he cried out with a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” Aramaic words that Mark translates for us as, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” It is in truth, a quote from Psalm 22:1 and the fact that it is on the lips of Jesus at this time makes a poignant statement about of his everyman-ness. He is the God man, yet he is every man. He shares in the divine nature. He posses’ human nature, it does not posses him. He is God! He is Me! The Psalmist cry, Jesus’ cry and my cry in the pit of despair, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” We all share a common sense of forsakenness and helplessness, but we also share a common answer from God.

Our common cry in the unnatural darkness is answered with God’s symphony in two parts. The first is when the earth and all that we know is shaken, shattered and scattered in to a million tiny pieces. Dust in the wind, the seeds of change that were sown upon the winds of renewal (the temple curtain ripped from top to bottom). The second is when the morning Sun with its warmth and glory bursting forth over mount Zion on victory Sunday. In that glorious moment when hells dungeons burst open, when the shackles of death are shattered like glass and the chains of sin fall like stars from the sky and burn to ash as they fall harmlessly upon the earth. All that was is washed away by the tears of God. The lightning flashes, the thunder crashes and the cleansing rains begins to fall. The rain that flows down the cheeks of God, a cleansing flood that will make everything new.

In that unbelievably majestic, magnificent moment of renewal, we sing with voices ringing in four-part harmony salvations song (“redeemed how I love to proclaim it, redeemed by the blood of the lamb”). Holy words as if written by the finger of God, and etched upon the pliable, moldable hearts of those who believe. These are the hearts of the delivered, faithful, grace filled and obedient children of the living God. It is God’s own answer to our tortured cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Here we assemble at the foot of the cross where all men are equals. Here we gathered around the table together. We come together in the presence of our partners in faith and prostrate ourselves before the Great I AM. Here we experience anew the heavenly and eternal answer to our soulful cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Here we no longer know forsakenness but, now we know forgiveness from and fellowship with El, Elohim, El shaddai, Yahweh-jireh (which means the Lord will provide), the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God of the living not the dead, Yahweh the eternal I AM.

Here we kneel together. Here we worship and praise him. Here we share a sacred moment. Here we lift up empty holy hands and open contrite hearts. Here no one stands alone. Here no one need walk the valley by him or her self. Here we are church. Here we assemble. Here we sing and shout. Here we pray. “Abba Father, father!” O’ Lord! God! Here we are! Accept O’ God our humble sacrifice of praise. Fill us O’ Lord! With your Holy Spirit. Use us Merciful One for your glory in this fallen and broken world. Here we are in your presence!

Just some things to think about along the way!

Bob

"Time Conscious"

The city begins to shake itself awake as the first rays of the morning sun slowly creeps over the Palatine hills and reflect off the Bronze and Marble statues of its mighty conquerors that line the city streets. The servants are as always the first to hustle and scurry about their morning task. They lay out the togas with gold embroidery and in a variety of colors for their masters and prepare for the sumptuous meals that await those of the elite equestrian order. The stark contrast of these two groups stands as a mute reminder of the obvious discrepancy between the two classes that make up this ancient classic culture.

Meanwhile, deep in the bowels of this ancient city, built upon the myth of Castor and Pollux and as a tribute to their strength and power, is another world. It is a world unseen by the masses and one, which rarely if ever comes to the minds of those who dwell above. Yet, there is cloistered away deep in the foreboding dwelling, in the dreary, dark and dank catacombs another class citizens who occupy another world beneath the streets of noble Rome.

Here beneath the hustle and bustle of city we discover a small but committed group huddled in the dim flickering light of olive oil lamps and well used candles, chanting and singing. Many are slaves, most are women yet they have come to this secret, secluded place to break bread (the staff of life), to share in common (have fellowship) with those of like faith and hear the story (the greatest story ever told) retold. Those humble souls present are reliving through the enduring presence of The Son, and Savior, what has become each ones own story.

Surely someone in the group spoke up and reminded Paul, Peter, Clement or whoever was telling the story to make it brief because in the Coliseum above them the games were about to begin. Everyone knows how important it is to beat the pagan rush. Our favorite gladiator’s are playing at noon and we would not want to miss any of the action. We would not want to miss the introductions; we wait anxiously for our hero’s to take the field. Helmets gleaming in the sun and muscles bulging as, Gaius Gluteus Maximus with his two brothers, Medius and Minimus, Flavius Pectoralus Major and the ever-illuminating Aurora Borealis, “get ready to rumble,” against the Lions, Tigers, Bears, Giants, Titans and even other wild beast of air and sea.

It must be all right occasionally to sacrifice genuine fellowship for obsessive fanaticism. You know what they say, “when in Rome” or is that “Romo." Most certainly, God understands how important it is for us to be true “fans?” He knows how much we need our own time to engage in these leisure activities, doesn’t he? Being time conscious must be a virtue that God would applaud. Surely, he knows how important our own time is to each of us and wants us to guard and protect it so that no one or nothing can intrude upon our precious time.

Undoubtedly, God is very time conscious, or maybe not.


Just some things to think about along the way…if you have time!

Bob