A Devotional on Psalm 22: The Cry of the Cross, The Hope of the Dawn
Scripture Reading: Psalm 22:1-2, 16-18, 27-31 (NIV)
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest… Dogs surround me, a pack of villains encircles me; they pierce my hands and my feet. All my bones are on display; people stare and gloat over me. They divide my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment… 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… Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord. They will proclaim his righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it!”
Reflection: The Cry Heard Across Time
Imagine a barren hill under a darkened sky, the air thick with dust and despair. A lone figure hangs on a Roman cross, his voice cracking through parched lips: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” These words, first penned by King David a thousand years before, echo through the ages to find their fullest expression on Golgotha. Psalm 22 is no mere lament; it is a prophetic tapestry woven with threads of anguish, abandonment, and astonishing hope, pointing us to the suffering and triumph of Jesus Christ.
In David’s day, this psalm captured the raw pain of a king surrounded by enemies, his life hanging by a thread. Historically, David likely wrote these words during a time of betrayal or persecution, perhaps fleeing from Saul or Absalom. His vivid imagery—pierced hands and feet, bones out of joint, garments gambled away—paints a scene of utter vulnerability. In the ancient Near East, to be “surrounded by dogs” was to face ruthless adversaries, scavenging for your downfall. David’s cry was not just personal; it was the cry of Israel, a people often forsaken yet never forgotten by God.
Centuries later, these same words poured from the lips of Jesus on the cross (Matthew 27:46). The parallels are haunting: the pierced hands and feet, the mocking crowd, the soldiers casting lots for His robe (John 19:24). Jesus, the Son of David, embodied this psalm in His darkest hour, taking on the weight of humanity’s sin. In that moment, the Father’s silence was not absence but the profound cost of redemption. The cross was not the end but the hinge of history, where despair gave way to deliverance.
Vivid Imagery: From Darkness to Dawn
Picture yourself standing at the foot of that cross. The ground trembles, and the sky is shrouded as if creation itself mourns. You hear the Savior’s cry, feel the weight of His suffering. Yet, as the psalm turns in verse 22, the scene shifts. The darkness cracks, and a radiant dawn breaks forth. “I will declare your name to my people; in the assembly I will praise you.” The same voice that cried in agony now sings of victory. The tomb is empty, and the risen Christ stands triumphant, proclaiming God’s faithfulness to all nations.
This is the heart of Psalm 22: it moves from desolation to declaration, from the cross to the crown. The imagery of “all the ends of the earth” turning to the Lord (v. 27) evokes a global chorus—people from every tribe, tongue, and time joining in worship. The psalm’s closing vision is a legacy of hope: future generations, even those yet unborn, will hear of the God who “has done it!”—the God who finished the work of salvation.
Application: Trusting Through the Silence
Today, you may feel like David, surrounded by trials, or like Jesus, wrestling with God’s silence. The vivid imagery of Psalm 22 invites you to bring your raw, honest cries to God. He hears you, even when answers seem distant. The cross reminds us that God’s silence is not His absence; it is often the prelude to His greatest work. Just as David’s lament turned to praise, and Jesus’ death gave way to resurrection, your story is not over. God is weaving your pain into a tapestry of redemption.
Take a moment to reflect: Where do you feel forsaken? Lay it before the One who bore forsakenness for you. Trust that the same God who turned the cross into a crown will turn your night into day. And like the psalmist, let your story proclaim to others: “He has done it!”
Prayer
Lord Jesus, You cried out in my place, bearing the weight of my sin and sorrow. Thank You for the cross, where Your love turned despair into hope. In my moments of silence and struggle, help me trust Your presence. Let Psalm 22 remind me that You are near, turning my cries into songs of praise. May my life declare Your faithfulness to a world yet unborn. Amen.
For Further Reflection
- Meditate on Psalm 22 alongside Matthew 27:27-50. How do the details of Jesus’ crucifixion fulfill David’s words?
- Journal about a time you felt God was silent. How can Psalm 22’s shift from lament to praise encourage you today?
- Share the hope of this psalm with someone who needs to hear that God “has done it!”
May the vivid truth of Psalm 22 fill you with courage to trust God’s faithfulness, from the cross to the coming dawn.