This is one of the most emotionally powerful cries in all of Scripture—“My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” (Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34). The anguished cry captures the mystery of Divine abandonment and human suffering, and opens the door to profound truths about God's Presence in our pain.
Matthew 27:46
“And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is to say, “My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken Me?”
Jesus cried out with a loud voice
On the cross, as the sky grew dark and the earth trembled, Jesus—God in flesh—cried out with a voice that has echoed through the ages: “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?”
It is a haunting question. One that shocks us. Confuses us. Even troubles us.
How could the Son of God feel abandoned by His Father? How could Jesus—Who was sinless, perfect, and One with the Father—experience forsakenness? He felt deserted, abandoned, completely left alone.
And yet, in this cry, we discover not weakness, but incredible strength. Not hopelessness, but deep identification with human suffering. Not despair, but the doorway to redemption.
Today, I want to walk with you into this sacred mystery. Because in this moment of Divine silence, there is a message of hope for every one of us who has ever felt abandoned, unheard, or forgotten.
The cry of humanity
Jesus was quoting the opening line of Psalm 22: “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?”
This is not just a cry of Jesus—it is the cry of every human heart at some point in life.
Have you ever felt like God was silent? Have you ever prayed and heard nothing in return? Have you ever looked at your situation and thought, “Where is God in all this?”
In this moment, Jesus enters into our deepest pain. He does not just carry our sins—He carries our sorrow, our confusion, our isolation.
Hebrews 4:15 says, “For we do not have a High Priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses…”
On the cross, Jesus took on the full weight of human suffering. Not just the physical agony, but the emotional and spiritual torment of feeling forsaken. The agony of utter depression, in the valley of death.
The weight of sin and separation
Why would the Father turn His face away?
Jesus was not forsaken because He had sinned. He was forsaken because He became sin for us.
2 Corinthians 5:21 – “God made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.”
In that moment, Jesus bore the full weight of every sin, every shame, every failure—mine and yours. And the holy Justice of God was poured out, not on sinners, but on the Saviour who stood in our place.
This was not Divine rejection—it was Divine substitution.
Jesus was momentarily separated so we could be eternally accepted. He was forsaken so we could be forgiven. He endured the silence of Heaven so that we would never have to.
Faith that endures the silence
Notice something powerful: even in His cry of abandonment, Jesus still says, “My God, My God.”
It is the cry of one who still believes.
It’s not, “God, if You exist.” It’s not, “I’m done with You.” It’s “My God.”
This is a faith that holds on—even when it hurts. Even when Heaven is silent. Especially when Heaven appears to be silent. Even when nothing makes sense.
Sometimes, our greatest act of faith is not shouting in victory—it is whispering, “My God,” through tears.
Job said, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.” (Job 13:15)
Jesus teaches us how to suffer with faith. How to grieve with hope. How to cry out without letting go.
A psalm of victory in disguise
Remember—Psalm 22 begins with abandonment, but it does not end there.
If you read through the rest of the Psalm, you’ll find it turns into a song of victory, of deliverance, of praise:
“You have answered Me.” (Psalm 22:21) “All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the Lord.” (Psalm 22:27)
Jesus was not just quoting a cry of pain—He was declaring the fulfilment of prophecy. The Saviour was pointing to the full picture. Yes, Jesus was suffering—but He knew it was not the end.
The cross is not the final word. The empty tomb is. The journey carrying our cross is merely our path - the resurrection into Heaven is the final answer.
In your life, pain may speak harshly, but does not have the last word. God always has a resurrection plan.
Because He was forsaken, we never will be
If you forget everything else, remember this:
Jesus was forsaken for a moment so you could be embraced forever.
Because of what Jesus did on the cross, we are never alone—even when we feel like we are.
Hebrews 13:5 – “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
When you walk through fire, He is with you. When you pass through the waters, He goes before you. When the world walks out, Jesus stays.
You may feel forgotten—but you are held. You may feel abandoned—but you are seen. You may feel broken—but in Christ, you are being made whole.
What the Cross teaches us in the dark night of the soul
Jesus’ cry reminds us that:
It’s important to question in the dark
Faith does not mean the absence of pain
God can handle your “why”
The darkness is not always the absence of light. It may be the path to light.
But it also teaches us:
Even in your lowest moment, God is still your God
What looks like abandonment may be the path to resurrection
The silence of God is not the absence of God.
Call to action:
Are you in a season where God feels silent? Do you feel like your prayers are going unanswered? Are you wrestling with your own “Why, God?”
You’re not alone. Jesus walked that road too—and He walked it for you.
Hold on to “My God.” Trust in the dark what He showed you in the light. The same Jesus who cried from the cross now speaks from the throne: “I am with you always.”
Closing prayer:
“Lord Jesus, Thank You for entering into our pain, our questions, and our suffering. Thank You for not turning away from the cross, but walking through the valley of abandonment so we might never have to. Strengthen our hearts when we feel forsaken. Remind us of Your unfailing presence, even in the silence. And help us to hold fast to You with the same faith You showed on the cross.
This is a powerful and deeply moving moment in the Gospel of John (John 19:26–27). When Jesus says, “Woman, behold thy son... Son, behold thy mother,” the Saviour is not only addressing Mary and John—He is making a profound statement about love, spiritual family, and responsibility even in the midst of suffering.
Scripture: John 19:26–27
“When Jesus saw His mother there, and the disciple whom He loved standing nearby, He said to her, ‘Woman, here is your son,’ and to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.”
Jesus forms a family
We often come to the cross to see the suffering Saviour, the Lamb slain for the sins of the world. And rightly so. But if we look closely—very closely—we also see something deeply human and heartbreakingly tender: Jesus, in His final moments, not just saving souls, but forming a family.
In the middle of His agony, with blood pouring from His wounds and every breath a struggle, Jesus pauses to speak—not a word of wrath, not a theological treatise, but a word of love and care: “Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother.”
This moment is more than a touching farewell. It is a holy commissioning. It’s a glimpse into the heart of God—a heart that creates family not just by blood, but by faith and love.
Compassion in the Midst of Suffering
Imagine the scene: the sky is darkening, the earth trembling, the crowd mocking, soldiers gambling. Jesus, hanging on the cross, is bearing the full weight of sin. Yet His eyes find Mary, His mother, standing there in sorrow. And beside her stands John, the disciple whom He loved.
Jesus doesn’t turn inward in His pain. He looks outward in love. He sees her grief, her vulnerability. And He cares.
This is Who Jesus is. He is never too burdened to care. He is never too wounded to love. In the most painful moment of His life, He tends to the needs of another.
“Cast all your cares on Him, for He cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:7)
If Jesus could care for Mary from the cross, He can surely care for us in our darkest hour. When we feel forgotten or overwhelmed, remember this moment: Jesus sees you, even in the crowd, even in the difficulties.
A New Family is Born at the Cross
What Jesus does next is not just personal—it is profoundly theological.
He turns to Mary and says, “Woman, behold your son.” He turns to John and says, “Behold your mother.”
In doing this, Jesus is not simply ensuring Mary is cared for. He is establishing a new kind of family—a spiritual family, birthed not from biology, but from the shared bond of Christ.
This is the beginning of the church. At the foot of the cross, strangers become family. The old boundaries—tribe, bloodline, status—are replaced by something deeper: love born of sacrifice.
Jesus had once said, “Whoever does the Will of My Father in Heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” (Matthew 12:50)
Now, in His final hours, Christ lives out that truth.
John, the beloved disciple, becomes a son to Mary. Mary, the mother of Jesus, becomes a mother to John. And through them, we learn that the cross doesn’t just reconcile us to God—it reconciles us to each other.
A call to love and responsibility
There is a very practical lesson here. Jesus did not ignore His responsibilities. He did not consider Himself above them. Jesus honoured His mother, even in death.
In a world that often praises independence and self-preservation, Jesus shows us the holiness of responsibility. He shows us that true discipleship is not only about how we pray, but how we care for those God has placed in our lives.
John responds with quiet obedience. “From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.” No debate. No delay. Just faithful response.
What about us?
Are we honouring the relationships God has given us?
Are we caring for the hurting, the lonely, the forgotten in our midst?
Are we willing to step into family roles that God calls us to, even if they are not comfortable or conventional? Especially if they are not comfortable or conventional?
Mary’s Silent Strength and John’s Quiet Obedience
Mary stands by the cross - not fleeing, but standing. She simply stays. This is a mother’s strength. Silent, steady, suffering.
And John—young, once brash and ambitious—now is the only disciple left. He has grown. He has stayed. He is ready to receive this sacred commission.
Their presence at the cross mattered. Love shows up. Love stays. Love takes responsibility.
What we learn from Mary and John is that the cross not only redeems, it assigns. It gives us new roles. New people to love. New commitments to honour.
What the Cross still teaches us today
“Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother.” These words echo through time, inviting us to be more than believers—to be family.
In Christ, we are called into a new way of living. A way that sees the hurting, that embraces the lonely, that builds bridges between the unlikely.
At the cross, Jesus didn’t just say, “It is finished.” He also said, “It begins.”
A new kind of family. A love that endures suffering. A responsibility born of grace.
Call to Action:
Today, let us ask ourselves:
Who is God asking us to “behold” with new eyes?
Who needs to be brought into the warmth of family?
How can we honour Christ by honouring one another?
May we leave the foot of the cross not only forgiven, but transformed.
Closing Prayer:
"Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the cross—where justice met mercy, and where love formed a new family. Help us to live in that love. Give us eyes to see the hurting, hands willing to serve, and hearts open to embrace those You place in our lives. May we, like John, receive Your call with quiet obedience. May we, like Mary, stand with strength even in sorrow. And may we, like Jesus, love until the very end.
The seven words of Christ on the cross each have a powerful and deeply meaningful message to share. Each of those seven words holds such rich spiritual depth and speak of different aspects of Christ's love, suffering, mission and triumph. The second word of Christ from the cross - "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise" (Luke 23:43) - is deeply powerful, full of hope and grace.
The Promise of Paradise: Grace at the Cross
Scripture: Luke 23:39–43
"Jesus answered him, 'Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.'" From a place of pain, Jesus gives a promise of peace. Amidst suffering, He extends salvation. On the cross—between two criminals—He reveals the heart of the gospel: grace, freely given.
This second word, spoken to the penitent thief, reminds us that no one is too far gone, no moment is too late, and no sin too great for God’s mercy.
1. A Picture of Repentance and Faith
In his agony and fear, one thief mocks Jesus, but the other turns towards the Master. The latter doesn't offer excuses; he acknowledges his guilt. He sees in Jesus not a dying man, but a coming King. The condemned sufferer asks, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." (v. 42)
His request is simple, sincere, and rooted in faith. True faith doesn’t require a perfect past, just a surrendered heart. How often do we feel unworthy of grace? But the thief shows us that mercy isn't earned—it’s received.
2. A Promise of Immediate Grace
Jesus answers the condemned man, "Today you will be with Me . . . "
Jesus doesn't delay the promise. He doesn't say "maybe" or "someday" - He says today. This is the power of grace: it's not postponed. It meets us at the moment we turn to Jesus.
You don't have to wait for heaven to start walking in God's peace. Eternal life begins the moment we say yes to Christ.
3. A Promise of Paradise
“...with Me in paradise.”
The word "paradise" evokes peace, joy, restoration - Eden regained. But the real treasure isn't just the place; it's the presence: "with Me." Jesus' promise wasn't just about location - it was about relationship. The greatest gift of heaven is Jesus Himself.
Our deepest longing isn't just for a better place - it's for a better presence. To be with Christ is the ultimate paradise.
Grace on the Cross
This second word from the cross shows us:
The power of repentance
The immediacy of salvation
The hope of eternity
If God can promise paradise to a dying thief, how confident we are that His mercy is available to us.
Are you carrying shame, regret, or doubt? Look to the cross. Listen to the voice of Jesus saying, "Today... with me... in paradise." There is still time. There is still grace. And paradise awaits.
Perhaps the Prayer Chapel of Repentance may bring you comfort at the following link;
The seven words of Christ on the cross each have a powerful and deeply meaningful message to share. Each of those seven words holds such rich spiritual depth and speak of different aspects of Christ’s love, suffering, mission, and triumph.
The first word—"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34)—is a deep well of grace and compassion, and it sets the tone for the rest of the seven last words.
The First Word – Forgiveness
Scripture: Luke 23:34 – "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."
Beloved, as we gather at the foot of the cross, we hear Jesus speak—not words of anger, not cries of vengeance, not bitterness or blame—but a prayer of forgiveness. In the very moment of His greatest suffering, Jesus looks upon those who have pierced His hands, mocked His name, and sentenced Him unjustly, and He says, "Father, forgive them."
Let that sink in.
In agony, Jesus teaches us the greatest lesson of love: forgiveness in the face of pain.
It is easy to forgive when the offense is small, when the wound is shallow. But here, Jesus shows us a divine kind of forgiveness—the kind that reaches out while the nails are still fresh in His hands, while the insults are still echoing in His ears. He forgives in the midst of the hurt.
And He doesn't just forgive them—He forgives us.
We are all part of the crowd at the cross. Every sin, every moment we turned away, every time we chose self over sacrifice—Jesus saw it all. Yet still, He said, "Father, forgive."
That is the power of the cross.
Forgiveness is not about forgetting the pain—it’s about choosinggrace over grievance, mercy over memory, and healing over hate. Jesus calls us not just to receive His forgiveness but to live it out.
Who do you need to forgive today?
What wounds are you still carrying that Christ already carried for you?
Let the first word of Jesus be your first step—toward peace, toward healing, toward new life.
Because the cross isn't the end of the story. It’s the beginning of forgiveness.
