ISAIAH 52:13-53:12

PSALM 22:1-21

PHILIPPIANS 2:5-11

MARK 14:32-15:47

Sermon – 4/13/03

“At three o’clock Jesus cried out with a loud voice, ‘Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?’ which means, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’”

Have you ever suffered excruciating pain?

Jesus knows pain. Devastating, degrading pain filled his hours on Good Friday, the kind of pain that first makes people believe they’re going to die – and then afraid that they won’t. Jesus, a muscular, healthy carpenter – turned preacher in the prime of life, experienced waves of overwhelming pain – from the 39 lashes enthusiastically meted out by the Roman soldier, to the crown of thorns jammed on his head, to the weight of the crossbar on his bloodied shoulders, to the nails in his hands and feet, to all of the pain pounding within him like hours of tidal waves pulverizing a seacoast.

Jesus knows pain.

If you’ve ever felt physical pain, Jesus does not merely sympathize, he empathizes. He’s been there. And if you’ve ever been limited by a disability, remember the man who could walk on water being pinned motionless to a cross. Jesus understands the frustrations of physical limitations; he’s been there too.

Have you ever suffered emotional pain?

Some experiences in life are like the emotional equivalent of surgery without anesthesia. The death of a spouse, or of one’s child, or of someone else very near and dear to you. Divorce. Betrayal. Abandonment. Desertion. Homelessness. A long, crippling illness for yourself or someone you care for. Overwhelming loneliness or sadness. All these and more experiences in life can break our hearts.

Jesus knows emotional pain.

Jesus knew betrayal; one of his chosen band of 12, Judas Iscariot, betrayed him to his enemies for 30 pieces of silver. Of his remaining male disciples, not one could even stay awake one hour during his time of great anguish in the Garden of Gethsemane, and when Jesus’ enemies came for him all the men fled except Peter – who lingered near long enough to deny three times that he even knew Jesus.

The fickle crowds, who five days earlier had cheered him on his Palm Sunday entry into Jerusalem, now taunted him and mockingly implored him to save himself. The fickle crowds, for whose sake he had come to teach, preach and heal. The fickle crowds, who cried out for Barabbas the murderer to be released instead of Jesus the Savior.

Jesus knows emotional pain.

Jesus does not merely sympathize with us when we are in pain; he empathizes. This is no remote, austere, impassive king on a throne in the clouds, but one who experienced and understands the depth of human suffering.

Have you ever experienced spiritual pain?

Have you ever felt a twinge, or a spasm, or a convulsion of existential despair, a smidgen of doubt of God’s care or love or existence or perhaps a paralyzing or anger-filled belief in God’s negligence, indifference or even cruelty? Have you ever wanted to scream at the sky, yelling “Why?” or “Where are you, God?” Have you ever felt an appalling, cold loneliness born of a conviction that there really is No One Up There?

Or have you ever muttered (or bellowed), “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Jesus has.

Jesus knows spiritual pain.

Some owner’s sons may get soft jobs in Daddy’s corporation in a life in which every door is opened for them, every skid greased, every “connection” connected.

But this was not so for this Son, the Son of the Owner of the Universe.

This Son was born in a manger as a member of an oppressed, persecuted and conquered minority, grew up to be a carpenter in an age when the only power for power tools was his own biceps, mourned the death of his earthly father while in his teens, left a steady job for three years of complete uncertainty while carrying out his Heavenly Father’s will and then, on his knees in the Garden of Gethsemane on the eve of his day of torture and execution, asked God the Father “Is there another way, please?” and heard...nothing.

And finally, after God the Son and God the Father had been united in Spirit since before the beginning of time, so that both might experience the full anguish which humans sometimes feel, all communication and support from God the Father for the Son was cut off at that devastating moment on the cross.

That was the ultimate pain for Jesus, on top of all his physical and emotional pain: the pain of abandonment. After experiencing God’s own strength, understanding and compassion within him from all eternity, the eternal Christ, now incarnate as the human being Jesus, now experienced the fullness of existential despair human beings may experience at our lowest moments. And so he cried out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” And God the Father Almighty had to listen to his only-begotten Son cry out in agony and do nothing. Only in this way could God experience both the spiritual agony and the helplessness of human beings at our lowest moments.

Some people grow up with an image of God as cold, remote, uncaring, uninvolved, and not understanding our pain. We can put such images away forever. God knows pain. God understands pain. Not by creating it – but by experiencing it physically, emotionally, spiritually. God cannot only sympathize with us in whatever pain we have, large or small; God can empathize with us in our pain, even our very lowest moments. Please, always remember that.

And, having experienced pain, and while lovingly present here, now and always with us and for us in our

times of greatest pain, God can raise us up from our levels of pain and suffering to God’s level of joy, healing and peace.

And that is the story for next Sunday.

(The Rev.) Francis A. Hubbard

St. Barnabas Episcopal Church