My god, my god, why have you forsaken me?
Introduction: A Cry of Agony and Mystery
At the height of His Passion, as darkness covered Calvary, Jesus uttered one of the most haunting lines in all of Scripture: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matt 27:46; Mark 15:34). In the Gospels’ original Greek, this cry is given in Jesus’ native Aramaic – “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (Ἠλί, Ἠλί, λεμὰ σαβαχθανί) – which echoes the Hebrew of Psalm 22:1: “Eli, Eli, lama azavtani” (אֵלִי אֵלִי לָמָה עֲזַבְתָּנִי), meaning “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”
These words, cried out in the throes of crucifixion, confront us with profound theological questions. How could the Son of God, “one in being” with the Father, experience abandonment by God? What is the significance of Jesus choosing this line as He dies? And how does this anguished prayer fulfill the Scriptures and reveal God’s plan of salvation?
Herein, we will explore Jesus’ cry of forsakenness in depth – from its Scriptural context in Psalm 22 and the Passion narratives, through the lens of Catholic doctrine on redemptive suffering (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church §§595–618), with insight from St. Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theologiae III, q.46–47) and the teachings of Pope St. Pius X, and in light of Jewish messianic prophecies like Isaiah’s Suffering Servant and Zechariah’s Pierced One. We will see that Christ’s despairing cry, far from indicating a loss of faith, was a deliberate fulfillment of Scripture that begins in lament but ends in triumph. It reveals that Jesus, though truly suffering the depth of human anguish, remained united to His Father even in feeling abandoned. This mystery lies at the heart of the Catholic understanding of redemptive suffering: God the Son allowed Himself to descend into our experience of forsakenness so as to redeem us from sin, all the while never ceasing to love and obey the Father. Let us begin by examining the biblical background of Psalm 22 and how it illuminates the meaning of Jesus’ words on the Cross.
Psalm 22: From Desolation to Deliverance
Jesus’ cry “Why have you forsaken me?” is not an arbitrary utterance of despair, but the opening line of Psalm 22 – a psalm well-known in Jewish worship as a profound lament of an innocent sufferer. By quoting the first verse of this psalm, the Lord was invoking the entire psalm’s message. Psalm 22 (21 in the Latin Vulgate) begins in anguish: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me?” (Ps 22:1-2). The psalmist (traditionally King David) pours out vivid descriptions of suffering that uncannily prefigure the Passion of Christ. “I am poured out like water… my bones are out of joint… my tongue sticks to my jaws” (22:14-15) – evoking the dehydration of crucifixion (cf. John 19:28). “They have pierced my hands and my feet – I can count all my bones” (22:16-17) – words that Christians see foreshadowing the nails of the Cross “They divide my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots” (22:18) – which was literally fulfilled by the Roman soldiers beneath Jesus’ cross (Matt 27:35).
Even the mockery Christ endured is foretold: “All who see me mock me… ‘He trusted in the Lord, let Him deliver him!’” (22:7-8). Indeed, St. Matthew notes that as Jesus hung on the cross, the chief priests and scribes scoffed in almost the same words: “He trusts in God; let God deliver him now if He desires him” (Matt 27:43), unknowingly echoing the psalm. By quoting Psalm 22’s first line, Jesus calls attention to all these prophecies unfolding around Him – asserting that His suffering is the fulfillment of Scripture and the culmination of God’s salvific plan.
Yet Psalm 22 does not end in defeat. Crucially, this lament psalm makes a dramatic turn from pain to praise. About two-thirds through, the tone shifts: “You have answered me!” cries the psalmist (22:21). He proclaims that God has not ultimately abandoned him: “For He has not despised or abhorred the affliction of the afflicted; He did not hide His face from me, but heard when I cried to Him” (Ps 22:24). The final verses exult that God’s deliverance of the sufferer will be proclaimed to the whole world: “All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the Lord… For dominion belongs to the Lord” (22:27-28). The once-forsaken one vows to “praise [God] in the great congregation” (22:25) and says “Posterity shall serve Him; men shall tell of the Lord to the coming generation” (22:30). In other words, the psalm moves from agony to assurance, from suffering to glory.
By invoking this psalm with His dying breath, Jesus signaled that His story would follow the same trajectory. Good Friday’s darkness would lead to Easter victory. As one commentary observes, “the same psalm that begins in tragedy ends in triumph”. The Catechism of the Catholic Church notes that Christ’s cry “My God, why have you forsaken me?” was prayed “in the voice of humanity” alienated by sin, but at the same time, Jesus was affirming the fulfillment of the whole Psalm, which “is a prayer of unshakeable trust in God”. Far from a despairing collapse of faith, Christ’s use of Psalm 22 was a deliberate act of prayer – a final teaching moment – identifying Himself as the Righteous Sufferer of the Scriptures whose affliction would bring salvation to many.
Context of the Passion: The Lamb “Handed Over” for Our Sake
Understanding Jesus’ cry also requires situating it in the context of the Passion. The Gospels recount that Jesus spoke these words “at the ninth hour” (around 3 pm), after hanging on the cross for about three hours of darkness (cf. Mark 15:33-34). This was the climactic moment of His suffering: His sacred humanity was wracked with excruciating pain, His sacred head crowned with thorns, His hands and feet nailed, His body bleeding and near death. It was then, fulfilling Psalm 22:15 (“my tongue cleaves to my jaws”), that Jesus, “knowing that all was now finished,” said “I thirst” – and after receiving vinegar, He cried out the psalm’s opening verse (John 19:28-30). Observers thought He was calling Elijah (“Eli, Eli…” sounded like Elijah), but Jesus was in fact calling upon His Father with the words of Scripture.
From a human perspective, this cry expresses the depth of Christ’s anguish. The Catechism teaches that Jesus truly experienced the feeling of abandonment that we sinners deserve – the spiritual desolation of seemingly being cut off from God. In this moment Jesus gave voice to the weight of all human grief and alienation from God. As Pope St. John Paul II wrote, Jesus “drew the world into His outcry” – he spoke in the name of every person who has felt abandoned by God (homily, 30 Nov 1988). Importantly, however, the Church clarifies that Jesus’ sense of abandonment was part of His redemptive mission. He was not complaining in despair as one who had lost faith. Rather, the Father had allowed the Son to taste this extreme sorrow precisely because Jesus was bearing our sins.
As the Catechism puts it: “Jesus did not experience reprobation as if He Himself had sinned. But in the redeeming love that always united Him to the Father, He assumed us in the state of our waywardness… to the point that He could say in our name from the cross: ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’”. In other words, out of love Jesus identified Himself with sinners – He quoted our plaintive cry of “God, where are You?” so that we, in turn, might share in His relationship with the Father. This was the fulfillment of what Scripture foretold: “He died for our sins… In particular Jesus’ redemptive death fulfills Isaiah’s prophecy of the suffering Servant”vatican.va. The prophet Isaiah had written that God’s Servant would be “pierced for our transgressions” and “made an offering for sin” (Isaiah 53:5,10). Jesus on the Cross is that Servant: as St. Peter preached, “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree” (1 Pet 2:24). Thus, the Father “did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all” (Rom 8:32) newadvent.orgnewadvent.org. Christ’s forsaken cry is the audible expression of Him “bearing the curse” of sin (Gal 3:13) on our behalf. Yet even as He felt the terrible reality of sin’s alienation, He remained the beloved Son. The very address “My God” shows Jesus still clinging to the Father with the trust of the psalmist. The Catechism, quoting St. Gregory, says that in this cry “the abyss of mankind’s misery… meets the abyss of God’s mercy” (CCC 2605). God’s merciful plan was that His Son would freely descend into our darkest experience – even the feeling of being God-forsaken – in order to redeem us from within that darkness.
Redemptive Suffering: Jesus United to the Father’s Will
Catholic doctrine emphasizes that the suffering and “dereliction” of Christ on the Cross were part of the divine plan of salvation. Far from being an accident or a sign of failure, the Passion was willed by the Father and accepted by the Son out of love for humanity. Jesus Himself taught that His crucifixion was in fulfillment of Scripture: “The Son of Man must be lifted up” (John 3:14) and “ought not the Christ to have suffered these things and enter into His glory?” (Luke 24:26). The Catechism explains: “Jesus’ violent death was not the result of chance, but part of the mystery of God’s plan”vatican.va. God “foreknew” and “predestined” it from eternity (Acts 2:23; 4:27-28), weaving even the free malice of Jesus’ enemies into His saving designvatican.va. Why would God plan such a thing? Because in His infinite justice and mercy, God chose to “spare us” from sin’s penalty by not sparing His own Son. As St. Thomas Aquinas and the Catechism note, there was a “necessity of the end” – mankind’s salvation – that made Christ’s Passion the most fitting means to redeem us. No one else could atone for the infinite offense of sin; only Jesus, true God and true Man, could bridge that gap. Out of love, “Christ offered Himself up for us as a sacrifice to God” (Eph 5:2). Every wound, every moment of His suffering, was endured for our redemption. The Catechism beautifully states: “By giving up His own Son for our sins, God shows that His plan for us is one of benevolent love… God shows His love for us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us” (CCC 604, quoting 1 Jn 4:10 and Rom 5:8). Thus the Cross, humanly a scene of horror and abandonment, is in truth the greatest act of love. It is “the unique sacrifice of Christ, the one mediator between God and men”vatican.va, offered so that we might be reconciled to the Father.
Even as Jesus cried out in anguish, He was performing the High Priestly act of sacrificial love for which He became man. His seemingly desperate words “why have you forsaken me” must be understood in light of His total obedience to the Father’s will. Recall that in Gethsemane, Jesus had prayed, “Father, let this cup pass from me; yet not my will, but Thy will be done” (Matt 26:39). The Father’s will was that the Son should drink the cup of suffering for our salvation, and Jesus lovingly obeyed. The Catechism teaches: “Jesus freely offered Himself for our salvation… by His loving obedience to the Father, unto death on a cross, Jesus fulfilled the atoning mission of the suffering Servant”vatican.vavatican.va. So, when He cries “Why have you forsaken me?”, we must not imagine a rupture in the Trinitarian union or a rebellion against the Father. Quite the opposite: in that cry Jesus lays bare the cost of His obedience, the real pain He endures in order to do the Father’s will and save us. It is as if Jesus were saying: “Behold how much it hurts to accomplish what You have sent Me to do – yet I still call You ‘My God.’” In fact, by quoting the Scriptures in His agony, Jesus was praying to the Father even as He experienced the Father’s permissive withdrawal of consolation.
This prayer, born from the extreme depths of suffering, was itself an act of faithful surrender. The Letter to the Hebrews alludes to this when it says: “In the days of His flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to Him who was able to save Him from death, and He was heard for His godly fear” (Heb 5:7). Certainly, the “loud cry” on the Cross (Eli, Eli…) is part of these prayers and supplications. And “He was heard,” not in the sense of being spared the Cross, but in being delivered through it – vindicated in the Resurrection (Heb 5:7-9). Thus, God did not abandon Jesus to the grave or let His Holy One see corruption (Acts 2:31); He “heard” His Son’s final prayer by raising Him on the third day. In sum, Jesus’ forsaken cry reveals both the cost of redemption and the unbroken divine love at the heart of the Cross. As the Catechism summarizes: “God the Father handed His Son over to sinners in order to reconcile us with Himself; our sins sent Christ to the cross, but His suffering was the very path to ultimate communion with the Father” (cf. CCC 604, 615).
Aquinas on Christ’s Abandonment and Union with the Father
St. Thomas Aquinas offers rich theological insight into this mystery, especially in his Summa Theologiae (Tertia Pars, Q. 46–47). Aquinas wrestles with the question: In what sense was Christ “forsaken” by God on the Cross? He affirms that the Father never ceased loving the Son, nor was the hypostatic union (the union of Christ’s human nature with the Divine Word) ever broken – not even in the hour of death. In Summa III, Q.50 art.2, Aquinas cites the very cry “My God, why have You forsaken Me?” which St. Ambrose had interpreted as Christ’s human soul at the point of death feeling the departure of His life. But Aquinas carefully clarifies what this “forsaking” means. He explains: “Such forsaking is not to be referred to a dissolution of the personal union [between the Son and His Godhead], but to this: that God the Father gave Him up to the Passion. To ‘forsake’ here means simply not to shield [Him] from [His] persecutors”. In other words, God “forsook” Jesus by withdrawing His divine protection, allowing Him to suffer and be crucified, but God did not forsake Him in terms of love or union. Aquinas points out that Jesus had earlier prayed, “Father, let this cup pass,” yet also surrendered to the Father’s will; on the Cross, saying “Why have You forsaken Me?” refers back to that prayer – it is as if Jesus notes that the Father’s plan (not removing the cup of suffering) is now being carried out.
Aquinas also explores how Christ’s soul experienced both immense sorrow and, at the same time, the unbroken vision of God. In Summa III, Q.46 art.7–8, he teaches that Christ’s lower human faculties truly suffered (His emotions, His senses, His psyche knew dreadful pain and desolation), but His higher soul – His intellect and will perfectly united to the divine – never lost the beatific vision of God. Aquinas writes that in Christ’s “higher reason” there was continuous joy in God as object, for God “was the cause not of grief, but of delight” to Christ’s soul. However, this sublime joy “did not overflow” to the lower soul or body, because Jesus willed to permit His human experience to suffer fully. Therefore, on the Cross Jesus simultaneously endured the greatest pain possible in His human feelings (a pain intensified by His soul’s very holiness and sensitivity), and yet deep within, His spirit remained in perfect communion with the Father. This paradox fulfills what Aquinas notes from Damascene: Christ’s divinity “permitted His flesh to suffer what was proper to it”. As Aquinas puts it, “the higher part [of Christ’s soul] was not hindered in its proper acts by the lower; it follows that the higher part enjoyed fruition (the beatific vision) perfectly while Christ was suffering”. In plainer words: Jesus knew with absolute certainty that the Father was with Him and would glorify Him, even though He allowed Himself to feel God-forsaken and unspeakably grief-stricken in that hour. This insight helps us understand that Jesus’ cry was not a theological assertion (“God has abandoned Me in essence”) but an expression of experienced distress. Aquinas confirms that the personal unity of Jesus with the Father was never suspended: “The grace of union… whereby the Godhead was united to the flesh in Christ’s Person, is greater and more enduring than the grace of adoption in others. Since there was no sin in Christ, it was impossible for the union to be dissolved”. Thus even at death, Christ’s soul separated from His body but not from His divinity. On Holy Saturday, Jesus’ body lay in the tomb yet remained united to the Person of the Son, so that, as Aquinas says, “the hypostasis of the Word was not different from that of Christ’s flesh” (III, Q.50 a.2).
In summary, Aquinas teaches a both/and: both a very real dereliction (God “letting go” of Jesus to suffer and Jesus feeling the distress of that abandonment in His human affect), and a continual divine union (the Father and Son never stopped loving each other, and Jesus’ will never stopped adhering to the Father). This Catholic understanding guards the mystery of the Incarnation: Jesus is fully human (able to feel forsakenness and cry out in anguish) and fully divine (always one with the Father and Holy Spirit). There is no contradiction, because the forsakenness is part of Christ’s human experience of the Passion, not a rupture in the Trinity. As Aquinas succinctly states, Christ’s cry signifies that the Father “left Him to the power of His persecutors,” but “not that God’s Fatherly love was absent”. We can thus see in Jesus’ lament both the cost of our salvation and the unfailing communion that undergirds it – a communion to which, amazingly, we are now invited.
Pope St. Pius X: Defending the True Christ and His Cross
Pope St. Pius X (1903–1914) – known for his deep piety and vigorous defense of orthodox doctrine – also sheds light on the meaning of Christ’s cry by warning against modern distortions of Christ’s identity and suffering. In his 1907 encyclical Pascendi Dominici Gregis, Pius X condemned the Modernist movement, which reinterpreted Jesus in purely human terms and denied the supernatural elements of Scripture. These errors, he said, were propagated by “the enemies of the Cross of Christ” who sought to “destroy the vital energy of the Church”vatican.va. Modernists reduced Christ’s crucifixion to a mere tragedy, stripping it of its redemptive value and prophetic fulfillment. Pius X lamented that they “do not spare even the person of the Divine Redeemer, whom, with sacrilegious daring, they reduce to a simple, mere man”vatican.va. If Jesus were only a mistaken prophet who died feeling abandoned by a God who did not save Him, then the heart of our faith would collapse. The Pope fought this “sacrilegious” portrayal vigorously. He insisted on the reality of Christ’s divinity and the supernatural nature of the Passion. In effect, Pius X upheld the same truth we have been exploring: that Christ’s cry “Why have you forsaken me?” cannot be understood as the despair of a deluded fanatic, but must be seen as the Incarnate Son of God fulfilling the Scriptures.
Pius X’s teaching reminds the faithful that we must read the Passion with the eyes of faith, not as sceptics. In rejecting the Modernists’ claims that the Gospel accounts were embellished by faith, Pius X affirmed that every word of Christ on the Cross – including His Psalm 22 cry – carries profound divine meaning, not merely subjective sentimentvatican.vavatican.va. He would have us see in Jesus crucified the real and true God-Man, performing the act of Redemption. Pius X’s own life and piety were deeply centered on Christ crucified; he encouraged frequent Holy Communion and meditation on the Passion. In the Catechism of St. Pius X, intended for laypeople, he taught clearly that Jesus Christ suffered in His human nature while His divine nature remained impassibleewtn.com. “Jesus Christ suffered as man; as God He could neither suffer nor die,” the catechism statesewtn.com. This simple formula safeguards the mystery we have discussed – it prevents one from imagining that the divine Son was “split” from the Father, while also emphasizing the reality of the suffering embraced in the humanity of Jesus. Pius X also stressed that our sins were the cause of Christ’s feeling of abandonment. The catechism urges the faithful “to meditate on the passion and death of Jesus Christ and to heartily detest our sins, which have been the cause of them”ewtn.comewtn.com. Thus, Pope St. Pius X would have us respond to Jesus’ anguished cry with both faith and repentance: faith in the undiminished divinity and victory of Christ, and repentance for the sins for which He chose to undergo that interior darkness. In an age where some denied Christ’s divine foresight or the atoning purpose of His death, Pius X’s teaching stands as a beacon, confirming that Jesus on the Cross knew what He was about. He was accomplishing the work of salvation, not crying out in confusion.
One can almost hear Pius X encouraging the faithful: Do not misunderstand “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani.” Far from undermining Christ’s divinity, this cry reveals the depths of His love and the fulfillment of prophecy. Our Lord was not truly forsaken by the Father; rather, as Pius X would insist, it was sinful humanity that had forsaken God, and Jesus stepped into that breach to bring us back. “Restore all things in Christ,” was Pius’s papal motto – and indeed, by embracing even our feeling of abandonment, Christ was restoring us to the Father. Pius X’s ringing condemnation of those who see only a “mere man” on the Crossvatican.va reinforces the Catholic conviction that we see our very Lord and God on Calvary (cf. Thomas’ confession in John 20:28), pouring Himself out for love of us.
Foreshadowed in Jewish Prophecy: The Suffering Messiah
Jesus’ cry on the Cross also links to the thread of Jewish messianic expectation found in the Old Testament and later Jewish writings – particularly the image of the righteous sufferer who atones for others. We have already seen how Psalm 22 provides a template for the suffering righteous one. This theme is powerfully developed in the Book of Isaiah chapters 52–53, in the poems of the “Suffering Servant.” Isaiah 53 portrays a mysterious figure who, though innocent, is despised, abused, and “pierced for our transgressions”, yet his suffering has redemptive value: “upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed” (Isa 53:5). He goes like a lamb to the slaughter, yet “when his soul makes an offering for sin, he shall see his offspring, he shall prolong his days” (53:10). “The righteous one, My Servant, shall make many to be accounted righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities” (Isa 53:11). The Catholic tradition has always seen Jesus’ Passion as the fulfillment of this prophecy. As the Catechism states: “In particular, Jesus’ redemptive death fulfills Isaiah’s prophecy of the suffering Servant”vatican.va, and “Jesus himself explained the meaning of His life and death in the light of God’s suffering Servant”vatican.va. After His Resurrection, Jesus opened the Scriptures to the disciples, showing that “it was necessary that the Christ should suffer” (Luke 24:26-27,46) – surely Isaiah 53 was one of the key texts He illuminated. On the Cross, as Jesus quoted Psalm 22, He was implicitly identifying Himself with all the righteous sufferers of Scripture, especially the Servant of Isaiah who cries out to God amid affliction. In Isaiah 53:4, we read: “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows, yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.” This eerily resonates with the scene of Calvary: Jesus was indeed esteemed smitten by God – people thought God had abandoned Him. But Isaiah immediately clarifies that “he was wounded for our transgressions”, and “upon him was the chastisement that makes us whole”. Thus, what looked like God’s rejection was actually God’s plan to save us. Jesus, by quoting the lament, invites us to see beyond the surface (the “smitten by God” appearance) to the underlying reality that “the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all” (53:6) and “it was the will of the Lord to bruise Him” for a greater good (53:10). The Apostolic preaching made this connection explicit: St. Philip explained Isaiah 53 to the Ethiopian eunuch as referring to Jesus’ Passion (Acts 8:32-35), and St. Peter wrote that Christ “suffered for you,” citing Isaiah: “He committed no sin… by His wounds you have been healed” (1 Pet 2:22-24, quoting Isa 53:5,9).
Another striking prophecy is found in Zechariah 12:10, where God says: “And I will pour out on the house of David… a spirit of compassion and supplication, so that when they look on Me, on Him whom they have pierced, they shall mourn for Him as one mourns for an only child.” At the Cross, once Jesus had died, a soldier pierced His side with a spear (John 19:34). The Gospel of John directly cites Zechariah’s prophecy: “They shall look on Him whom they have pierced” (John 19:37), indicating that this was fulfilled in Christ.
In Zechariah, the context is a future outpouring of grace and repentance upon Jerusalem when they behold the one they pierced. The early Church saw this as pointing to Christ crucified, the “only Son” mourned by His people, whose piercing would open up a fountain of forgiveness (cf. Zech 13:1). Remarkably, ancient Jewish interpretations also saw a messianic figure in this verse. Some rabbinic traditions spoke of “Messiah ben Joseph” – a Messiah from Joseph/Ephraim’s lineage – who would suffer and be slain prior to the final victory of Messiah ben David. The Babylonian Talmud (Sukkah 52a) records an opinion that the mourning in Zechariah 12:10 is “for the slaying of Messiah the son of Joseph”, whom the people “pierced”. Medieval Jewish commentators like Rashi, Ibn Ezra, and Abravanel likewise mention that Zechariah refers to a Messiah son of Joseph who is killed in battle. Most striking is a comment by the 16th-century rabbi Moses Alshech, who wrote that the Pierced One “is Messiah, the son of Joseph, who... will take upon himself all [the sins] of Israel. And [he] shall be slain in war to make an atonement, in such a manner that it shall be accounted as if Israel had pierced him, for on account of their sin he has died… and thus they shall look upon [Me]”. This astonishing passage (coming from within Jewish tradition, not Christianity) attributes to the suffering Messiah the role of atoning for the sins of the people by his death – a concept that mirrors Isaiah 53 and resonates profoundly with Christian understanding of Jesus’ sacrifice.
While mainstream Judaism later moved away from messianic interpretations of Isaiah 53 and similar texts, these ancient echoes remain significant. They show that the idea of a suffering, even apparently God-forsaken, Messiah was not utterly foreign in some strands of Jewish thought. At the very least, the Old Testament itself provided hints that God’s Anointed could suffer intensely yet be vindicated. King David – a prototype of the Messiah – endured severe trials and betrayal (as reflected in many Psalms, including Psalm 22). Jeremiah, sometimes seen as a figure of the suffering prophet, was persecuted and lamented his woes to God, yet God was with him as a “dread warrior” (Jer 20:7-11). The Wisdom of Solomon (a deuterocanonical Jewish text) contains a remarkable passage (Wisdom 2:12-20) where the ungodly plot to kill a “righteous man” because “he calls himself a child of God.” They say: “If the righteous man is God’s son, He will help him… Let us condemn him to a shameful death, for according to what he says, God will protect him” (Wis 2:18-20). This reads like a foreshadowing of the scene at Calvary, where the mockers say “Let God deliver Him, if He is God’s Son!” and indeed condemn Jesus to the most shameful death (crucifixion). The early Church and Church Fathers saw Wisdom 2 as prophetic of Christ’s Passion. St. Thomas Aquinas himself quotes Wisdom 2:20 (“Let us condemn him to a most shameful death”) when discussing the fittingness of Christ’s crucifixion. All these strands – the Psalms, Isaiah, Zechariah, Wisdom, etc. – weave together a typology of the righteous sufferer consummated in Jesus.
Therefore, when Jesus cried out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”, He was deliberately fulfilling these prophecies and types. He identified Himself as the Just Man of Psalm 22 and Wisdom 2, derided and seemingly abandoned, yet vindicated by God; as the Suffering Servant of Isaiah, bearing the sins of the many; and as the Pierced One of Zechariah, causing repentance and cleansing to flow. The Jewish messianic hope often expected a triumphant king, but in Jesus we see that the Messiah had to suffer before entering His glory (Luke 24:26). His cry of dereliction shows that He truly drank the cup of suffering to the dregs, uniting in His Person both the depth of human despair and the unwavering faith of Israel in God’s deliverance. By invoking the lament that Israel’s faithful had sung for centuries, Jesus filled it with messianic fullness. And by rising from the dead, He transformed that lament into praise – for now all the ends of the earth have indeed heard of the Lord’s deliverance (Ps 22:27). As the Catechism succinctly puts it: *“Christ’s Resurrection glorifies the meaning of Jesus’ forsaken cry… *‘God was reconciling the world to Himself in Christ’**” (cf. 2 Cor 5:19; CCC 603-604).
“Lament to Triumph”: The Victory Hidden in the Cry
Far from indicating a defeat, Jesus’ cry “My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?” carries within it the seed of victory. It is the first verse of a psalm that ends in confident triumph. On Good Friday, those standing at the cross likely did not perceive this – to them, it seemed Jesus was truly abandoned. Yet, as we have shown, that cry was part of God’s larger narrative. In that moment of apparent forsakenness, the Son of God was accomplishing the world’s Redemption. He who knew no sin was made to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God (2 Cor 5:21). In being “forsaken,” Jesus was undoing the forsakenness of Adam. He descended to the nadir of the human condition – even experiencing that awful silence when God seems absent – in order to fill that void with His divine presence. Indeed, Catholic theology asserts that when Christ died, He descended into hell (the realm of the dead), still united to the Godhead, to rescue the righteous souls awaiting redemption (cf. 1 Pet 3:19, CCC 633). Thus, even in death, God had not abandoned Him: “For You will not abandon My soul to Sheol” (Ps 16:10) was fulfilled as the Father raised Jesus up.
When we consider Jesus’ cry now, in light of the Resurrection, we see it as a cry of victory in disguise. It tells us that no agony, not even feeling abandoned by God, can separate us from God’s love (cf. Rom 8:35-39) – because Jesus Himself has gone there and bridged that chasm. For the faithful, this means that our own moments of desolation and “God-forsakenness” can be united to Christ’s. The Catechism teaches that Christ, “in His human soul, united to His divine person, has gone through death and entered into glory, so that all ‘abandonment’ in suffering can be enveloped by His eternal communion with the Father” (cf. CCC 616, 636- Seventh Word). Catholic spirituality often reflects on the “Seven Last Words” of Jesus, and this fourth word – “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani” – has a special place. It consoles us that Jesus truly understands our darkest feelings. As the Letter to the Hebrews says, “we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses” (Heb 4:15). Christ has felt the God-forsaken loneliness that sometimes afflicts us. Yet, because He is God, His feeling of abandonment was overcome by the reality of the Father’s unfailing presence. Thus, He sanctified that experience, turning it from a dead-end into a doorway of hope.
Fittingly, Psalm 22 ends with hope for future generations: “They shall proclaim His righteousness to a people yet unborn, that He has done it” (Ps 22:31). In the original Hebrew, that last phrase can be translated as “that It is finished.” How remarkable – Jesus’ final words in John’s Gospel are “It is finished” (John 19:30). He had accomplished the mission, drank the last drop of the cup of suffering. The forsaken cry, followed by that declaration of completion, tells us that the work of redemption was fully achieved on the Crossvatican.vavatican.va. No further price needed to be paid; Jesus paid it all, and the Father silently accepted the sacrifice which would be confirmed on Easter morning. As a result, **the cry of abandonment has been transformed into a cry of reconciliation. Jesus, “forsaken” on the Cross, ensures that we need never be truly forsaken by God. He has opened the way for us to call God “My God” with the confidence of children.
In the Catholic understanding, therefore, Jesus’ plaintive question “Why?” is not a despairing theological query, but a prayerful fulfillment of Scripture and a revelation of love. The Catechism teaches that Jesus “utters the Psalm 22 in His last words on the Cross, and in doing so He prays in the name of all sinners, for whom He is offering Himself”. He cries out with us and for us. And because the Father always hears the Son (John 11:42), we know that prayer was efficacious. In answer to “Why have You forsaken Me?”, God has given an everlasting answer in the Resurrection and the sending of the Holy Spirit. The Father did not forsake Jesus; and if we are “in Christ,” He will not forsake us. As St. Paul exults, “He who did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all… who shall separate us from the love of Christ?” (Rom 8:32,35). The apparent forsakenness was for our sake – so that “we might be reconciled to God by the death of His Son” (Rom 5:10). In heaven, the Lamb who was slain is now praised by all creation (Rev 5:12-13), and the marks of His Passion shine like glorious trophies.
In conclusion, Jesus’ cry “My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?” stands as one of the most profound mysteries of our faith. It shows us the true humanity of Christ, who experienced the full measure of human suffering, and the true divinity and mission of Christ, who by that suffering redeemed the world according to the Scriptures. It teaches us that lament has a place in faith – we can cry out to God with our “Why?” in times of distress – yet it also teaches us that lament can be an act of trust. For Jesus, quoting Psalm 22, the words of lament carried within them the memory of God’s past faithfulness and the hope of deliverance. As Catholic laity reflecting on this mystery, we are invited to deepen our gratitude for the Savior’s sacrifice. We hear in that cry the cost of our sins and the extent of Christ’s love, who “loved us and gave Himself up for us” (Eph 5:2). We also are encouraged to take up our own crosses in union with Christ. The Catechism reminds us: “Because in His incarnate divine person He has united Himself to every man, the possibility of being made partners in Christ’s Paschal mystery is offered to all. He calls His disciples to take up their cross and follow Him”vatican.vavatican.va. When we feel abandoned or in pain, we can recall that Jesus has sanctified those moments and that, through Him, suffering can lead to glory. The Cross, once a sign of curse, has become the “ladder to heaven”vatican.va.
Jesus’ cry from the Cross ultimately reveals the heart of our faith: “God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself” (2 Cor 5:19). In that anguished shout, we find both the depth of the world’s brokenness and the height of God’s mercy. We find the answer to the Psalmist’s question – Why? – not in a spoken explanation, but in the person of Jesus Himself. The answer is Love: a love so vast that the Son of God would go to the furthest extreme of feeling cut off from God, in order to bring us into communion with God. As we meditate on “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani,” may we, like the centurion at the Cross, come to exclaim with awe: “Truly this man was the Son of God!” (Mark 15:39), and may we echo the final praise of Psalm 22 – “You have done it, Lord; You have not hidden Your face, but have heard and saved Your Anointed, and through Him, all the ends of the earth will turn to You.”
Sources:
Holy Bible, Psalm 22 (Hebrew/English), Isaiah 52–53, Zechariah 12:10, Matthew 27:46, Mark 15:34, John 19:28–37, Wisdom 2:12–20, et al.
Catechism of the Catholic Church (1997): see §§599–605 on God’s plan in Christ’s death, §603 on Jesus’ cry of abandonmentcatholicculture.orgvatican.va, §618 on our share in the Crossvatican.va, etc.
St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, Third Part (Tertia Pars): Q.46 art.7–8 (Christ’s suffering in soul)newadvent.orgnewadvent.org; Q.47 art.3 (Father delivering Christ to Passion)newadvent.org; Q.50 art.2 (Godhead not separated at death, meaning of “forsaken”)ccel.org.
Pope St. Pius X, Pascendi Dominici Gregis (Encyclical, 1907) – on errors reducing Christ to a “mere man”vatican.va and rejecting the supernatural elements of His life. Catechism of St. Pius X – teaching that Christ suffered in His human nature, not in His divine natureewtn.com.
Church Fathers and Theologians: e.g., St. Ambrose (cited by Aquinas) on “the Man cried out about to expire, being severed from the Godhead” (interpreting the cry in terms of Christ’s impending death)ccel.org; St. Augustine’s explanation (cited by Aquinas) that the Father “forsook” Christ by not granting the cup’s removalccel.org.
Rabbinic writings: Babylonian Talmud, Sukkah 52a on Messiah ben Joseph being slain; Commentary of Moses Alshech on Zech 12:10 (16th c.) describing a messianic figure bearing Israel’s sins and being pierced for atonement.
Catechetical and spiritual resources: Fr. John A. Hardon, S.J., “The Prayer of Jesus as He Faces Death” (explaining Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani in light of Psalm 22) Pope St. John Paul II, General Audience 30 Nov 1988 (on Jesus’ cry expressing both depth of sorrow and depth of trust); Navarre Bible Commentary on Matthew (on 27:46, noting Jesus’ invocation of the whole psalm).