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Expositor's Bible Commentary Psalm 22:1 To the chief Musician upon Aijeleth Shahar, A Psalm of David. My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring? Psalm 22:1-31 WHO is the sufferer whose wail is the very voice of desolation and despair, and who yet dares to believe that the tale of his sorrow will be a gospel for the world? The usual answers are given. The title ascribes the authorship to David, and is accepted by Delitzsch and others. Hengstenberg and his followers see in the picture the ideal righteous man. Others think of Hezekiah, or Jeremiah, with whose prophecies and history there are many points of connection. The most recent critics find here "the personalised Genius of Israel, or more precisely the followers of Nehemiah, including the large-hearted psalmist" (Cheyne, " Orig. of Psalt., " 264). On any theory of authorship, the startling correspondence of the details of the psalmist’s sufferings with those of the Crucifixion has to be accounted for. How startling that correspondence is, both in the number and minuteness of its points, need not be insisted on. Not only does our Lord quote the first verse on the cross, and so show that the psalm was in his heart then, but the gestures and words of mockery were verbally reproduced, as Luke significantly indicates by using the LXX’s word for "laugh to scorn" ( Psalm 22:7 ). Christ’s thirst is regarded by John as the fulfilment of "scripture," which can scarcely be other than Psalm 22:15 . The physical effects of crucifixion are described in the ghastly picture of Psalm 22:14-15 . Whatever difficulty exists in determining the true reading and meaning of the allusion to "my hands and my feet," some violence or indignity to them is intended. The peculiar detail of dividing the raiment was more than fulfilled, since the apparently parallel and synonymous clauses were resolved into two distinct acts. The recognition of these points in the psalm as prophecies is one thing; the determination of their relation to the psalmist’s own experience is quite another. It is taken for granted in many quarters that every such detail in prophecy must describe the writer’s own circumstances, and the supposition that they may transcend these is said to be "psychologically impossible." But it is somewhat hazardous for those who have not been subjects of prophetic inspiration to lay down canons of what is possible and impossible in it, and there are examples enough to prove that the relation of the prophets’ speech to their consciousness and circumstances was singularly complex, and not to be unravelled by any such obiter dicta as to psychological possibilities. They were recipients of messages, and did not always understand what the "Spirit of Christ which was in them did signify." Theories which neglect that aspect of the case do not front all the facts. Certainty as to the authorship of this psalm is probably unattainable. How far its words fitted the condition of the singer must therefore remain unsettled. But that these minute and numerous correspondences are more than coincidences, it seems perverse to deny. The present writer, for one, sees shining through the shadowy personality of the psalmist the figure of the Prince of Sufferers, and believes that whether the former’s plaints applied in all their particulars to him, or whether there is in them a certain "element of hyperbole" which becomes simple fact in Jesus’ sufferings, the psalm is a prophecy of Him and them. In the former case the psalmist’s experience, in the latter case his utterances, were divinely shaped so as to prefigure the sacred sorrows of the Man of Sorrows. To a reader who shares in this understanding of the psalm, it must be holy ground, to be trodden reverently and with thoughts adoringly fixed on Jesus. Cold analysis is out of place. And yet there is a distinct order even in the groans, and a manifest contrast in the two halves of the psalm ( Psalm 22:1-21 and Psalm 22:22-31 ). "Thou answerest not" is the keynote of the former; "Thou hast answered me," of the latter. The one paints the sufferings, the other the glory that should follow. Both point to Jesus: the former by the desolation which it breathes; the latter by the world wide consequences of these solitary sufferings which it foresees. Surely opposites were never more startlingly blended in one gush of feeling than in that plaint of mingled faith and despair, "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" which by its thus addressing God clings fast to Him, and by its wondering question discloses the dreary consciousness of separation from Him. The evidence to the psalmist that he was forsaken was the apparent rejection of his prayers for deliverance; and if David be the speaker, we may suppose that the pathetic fate of his predecessor hovered before his thoughts: "I am sore distressed. God is departed from me and answereth me no more. But, while lower degrees of this conflict of trust and despair belong to all deep religious life, and are experienced by saintly sufferers in all ages, the voice that rang through the darkness on Calvary was the cry of Him who experienced its force in supreme measure and in altogether unique manner. None but He can ask that question "Why?" with conscience void of offence. None but He have known the mortal agony of utter separation from God. None but He have clung to God with absolute trust even in the horror of great darkness. In Christ’s consciousness of being forsaken by God lie elements peculiar to it alone, for the separating agent was the gathered sins of the whole world, laid on Him and accepted by Him in the perfection of His loving identification of Himself with men. Unless in that dread hour He was bearing a world’s sin, there is no worthy explanation of His cry, and many a silent martyr has faced death for Him with more courage derived from Him than He manifested on His cross." After the introductory strophe of two verses, there come seven strophes, of which three contain 3 verses each ( Psalm 22:3-11 ) followed by two of 2 verses each ( Psalm 22:12-15 ) and these again by two with 3 verses each. Can a soul agitated as this singer’s was regulate its sobs thus? Yes, if it is a singer’s, and still more if it is a saint’s. The fetters make the limbs move less violently, and there is soothing in the ordered expression of disordered emotion. The form is artistic, not artificial; and objections to the reality of the feelings on the ground of the regularity of the form ignore the witness of the masterpieces of literature in all tongues. The desolation rising from unanswered prayer drives to the contemplation of God’s holiness and past responses to trusting men, which are in one aspect an aggravation and in another an alleviation. The psalmist partly answers his own question "Why?" and preaches to Himself that the reason cannot be in Jehovah, whose character and former deeds bind Him to answer trust by help. God’s holiness is primarily His separation from, by elevation above, the creature, both in regard of His freedom from limitations and of His perfect purity. If He is thus "holy," He will not break His promise, nor change His ways with those who trust. It takes some energy of faith to believe that a silent and apparently deaf God is "holy," and the effect of the belief may either be to crush or to lift the spirit. Its first result with this psalmist seems to have been to crush, as the next strophe shows, but the more blessed consequence is won before the end. Here it is partly a plea urged with God, as is that beautiful bold image of God enthroned "on the praises of Israel." These praises are evoked by former acts of grace answering prayers, and of them is built a yet nobler throne than the outstretched wings of the Cherubim. The daring metaphor penetrates deeply into God’s delight in men’s praise, and the power of Israel’s voice to exalt Him in the world. How could a God thus throned cease to give mercies like those which were perpetually commemorated thereby? The same half-wistful, half-confident retrospect is continued in the remaining verses of this strophe ( Psalm 22:4-5 ), which look back to the "grey fathers" experience. Mark the plaintive reiteration of trust and "deliver," the two inseparables, as the days of old attested, which had now become so sadly parted. Not more certainly the flow of water in a pipe answers the application of thirsty lips to its opening than did God’s rescuing act respond to the father’s trust. And now!- The use of "Our" in reference to the fathers has been laid hold of as favouring the hypothesis that the speaker is the personified nation; but no individual member of a nation would speak of the common ancestors as "My fathers." That would mean his own family progenitors, whereas the psalmist means the Patriarchs and the earlier generations. No argument for the national theory, then, can be drawn from the phrase. Can the reference to Jesus be carried into this strophe? Assuredly it may, and it shows us how truly He associated Himself with His nation, and fed His faith by the records of the past. "He also is a son of Abraham." Such remembrances make the contrast of present sufferings and of a far-off God more bitter; and so a fresh wave of agony rolls over the psalmist’s soul. He feels himself crushed and as incapable of resistance as a worm bruised in all its soft length by an armed heel. The very semblance of manhood has faded. One can scarcely fail to recall "his visage was so marred more than any man," { Isaiah 52:14 } and the designation of Jehovah’s servant Israel as "thou worm." { Isaiah 41:14 } The taunts that wounded the psalmist so sorely have long since fallen dumb and the wounds are all healed; but the immortal words in which he wails the pain of misapprehension and rejection are engraved forever on the heart of the world. No suffering is more acute than that of a sensitive soul, brimming with love and eager ness to help, and met with scorn, rejection and ferocious mockery of its sacredest emotions. No man has ever felt that pang with the intensity with which Jesus felt it, for none has ever brought such wealth of longing love to be thrown back on itself, nor been so devoid of the callousness with which selfishness is shielded. His pure nature was tender as an infant’s hand, and felt the keen edge of the spear as none but He can have done. They are His sorrows that are painted here, so vividly and truly that the evangelist Luke takes the very word of the LXX version of the psalm to describe the rulers’ mockery. { Luke 23:35 } "They draw open the lips," grinning with delight or contempt; "they nod the head" in mockery and assent to the suffering inflicted; and then the savage hate bursts into irony which defiles the sacredest emotions and comes near to blaspheming God in ridiculing trust in Him. The mockers thought it exquisite sarcasm to bid Jesus roll His troubles on Jehovah, and to bid God deliver Him since He delighted in Him. How little they knew that they were thereby proclaiming Him as the Christ of prophecy, and were giving the unimpeachable testimony of enemies to His life of devout trust and His consciousness of Divine favour! "Roll (it) on God," sneered they; and the answer was, "Father, into Thy hands I commit my spirit." "Let Him deliver Him, since He delighteth in Him," they impiously cried, and they knew not that God’s delight in Him was the very reason why He did not deliver Him. Because He was His Son in whom He was well pleased, "it pleased the Lord to bruise Him." The mockery of opponents brings into clear light the deepest secrets of that cross. Another wave of feeling follows in the next strophe ( Psalm 22:9-11 ). Backwards and forwards, from trust to complaint and from complaint to trust, rolls the troubled sea of thought, each mood evoking its opposite. Now reproach makes the psalmist tighten his grasp on God, and plead former help as a reason for present hearing. Faith turns taunts into prayers. This strophe begins with a "Yea," and, on the relationship with God which the enemies had ridiculed and which his heart knows to be true, pleads that God would not remain, as Psalm 22:1 had wailed that He was, far off from His help. It goes back to the beginning of life, and in the mystery of birth and the dependence of infancy, finds arguments with God. They are the personal application of the wide truth that God by His making us men gives us a claim on Him, that He has bound Himself by giving life to give what is needful for its development and well-being. He will not stultify Himself by making a man and then leaving him to struggle alone, as birds do with their young, as soon as they can fly’. He is "a faithful Creator." May we venture to find special reference here to the mystery of the Incarnation? It is noticeable that "my mother" is emphatically mentioned, while there is no reference to a father. No doubt the cast of the thought accounts for that, but still the special agency of Divine power in the birth of Jesus gives special force to His prayer for Divine help in the life so peculiarly the result of the Divine band. But while the plea had singular force on Christ’s lips, it is valid for all men. The closing verse of this strophe takes the complaint of Psalm 22:1 and turns it into prayer. Faith does not rest with plaintively crying "Why art Thou so far?" but pleads "Be not far"; and makes the nearness of trouble and the absence of all other help its twofold pleas. So much the psalmist has already won by his communing with God. Now he can face environing sorrows and solitary defencelessness, and feel them to be reasons for God’s coming, not tokens of His distance. We now come to two strophes of two verses each ( Psalm 22:12-15 ), of which the former describes the encircling foes and the latter the psalmist’s failure of vital power. The metaphor of raging wild animals recurs in later verses, and is common to many psalms. Bashan was a land of pastures over which herds of half wild cattle roamed. They "have surrounded me" is a picturesque touch, drawn direct from life, as anyone knows who has ever found himself in the midst of such a herd. The gaping mouth is rather characteristic of the lion than of the bull. The open jaws emit the fierce roar which precedes the fatal spring and the "ravening" on its prey. The next short strophe passes from enemies around to paint inward feebleness. All vital force has melted away; the very bones are dislocated, raging thirst has supervened. These are capable of being construed as simply strong metaphors, parallels to which may be found in other psalms; but it must not be left unnoticed that they are accurate transcripts of the physical effects of crucifixion. That torture killed by exhaustion, it stretched the body as on a rack, it was attended with agonies of thirst. It requires considerable courage to brush aside such coincidences as accidental, in obedience to a theory of interpretation. But the picture is not completed when the bodily sufferings are set forth. A mysterious attribution of them all to God closes the strophe. "Thou hast brought me to the dust of death." Then, it is God’s hand that has laid all these on him. No doubt this may be, and probably was in the psalmist’s thought, only a devout recognition of Providence working through calamities; but the words receive full force only by being regarded as parallel with those of Isaiah 53:10 , "He hath put Him to grief." In like manner the apostolic preaching regards Christ’s murderers as God’s instruments. The next strophe returns to the three-verse arrangement, and blends the contents of the two preceding, dealing both with the assailing enemies and the enfeebled sufferer. The former metaphor of wild animals encircling him is repeated with variations. A baser order of foes than bulls and lions, namely, a troop of cowardly curs, are snarling and snapping round him. The contemptuous figure is explained in Psalm 22:16 b, as meaning a mob of evildoers, and is then resumed in the next clause, which has been the subject of so much dispute. It seems plain that the Masoretic text is corrupt. "Like a lion, my hands and my feet" can only be made into sense by violent methods. The difference between the letters which yield "like a lion "and those which give "they pierced" is only in the length of the upright stroke of the final one. LXX Vulg. Syr. translate they dug or pierced, and other ancient versions attest that they read the word as a verb. The spelling of the word is anomalous, if we take it to mean dig, but the irregularity is not without parallels, and may be smoothed away either by assuming an unusual form of a common verb or a rare root cognate with the more common one. The word would then mean "they dug" rather than pierced, but the shade of difference in meaning is not so great as to forbid the later rendering. In any case "it is the best attested reading. It is to be understood of the gaping wounds which are inflicted on the sufferer’s hands and feet, and which stare at him like holes" (Baethgen, " Hand Comment., " p. 65). "Behold my hands and my feet," said the risen Lord, and that calm word is sufficient proof that both bore the prints of nails. The words might be written over this psalm. Strange and sad that so many should look on it and not see Him! The picture of bodily sufferings has one more touch in "I can count all my bones." Emaciation would produce that effect. But so would crucifixion which extended the frame and threw the bones of the thorax into prominence. Then the sufferer turns his eyes once more to his enemies, and describes the stony gaze, protracted and unfeeling, with which they feed upon his agonies. Crucifixion was a slow process, and we recall the long hours in which the crowd sated their hatred through their eyes. It is extremely unlikely that the psalmist’s garments were literally parted among his foes, and the usual explanation of the singular details in Psalm 22:18 is that they are either a metaphor drawn from plundering the slain in battle or a proverbial expression. What reference the words had to the original speaker of them must, in our ignorance of his circumstances, remain uncertain. But they at all events depict his death as so sure that his enemies regard his dress as their perquisite. Surely this is a distinct instance of Divine guidance moulding a psalmist’s words so as to fill them with a deeper meaning than the speaker knew. He who so shaped them saw the soldiers dividing the rest of the garments and gambling for the seamless cloak; and He was "the Spirit of Christ which was in" the singer. The next strophe closes the first part with petition which, in the last words, becomes thanksgiving, and realises the answer so fervently besought. The initial complaint of God’s distance is again turned into prayer, and the former metaphors of wild beasts are gathered into one long cry for deliverance from the dangerous weapons of each, the dog’s paw, the lion’s mouth, the wild oxen’s horns. The psalmist speaks of his "soul" or life as "my only one," referring not to his isolation, but to his life as that which, once lost, could never be regained. He has but one life, therefore he clings to it, and cannot but believe that it is precious in God’s eyes. And then, all at once, up shoots a clear light of joy, and he knows that he has not been speaking to a deaf or remote God, but that his cry is answered. He had been brought to the dust of death, but even thence he is heard and brought out with no soil of it upon him. Such suddenness and completeness of deliverance from such extremity of peril may, indeed, have been experienced by many, but receives its fullest meaning in its Messianic application. "From the horns of the wild oxen," says he, as if the phrase were still dependent, like the preceding ones, on the prayer, "deliver me." But, as he thus cries, the conviction that he is heard floods his soul, and he ends, not with a cry for help, but with that one rapturous word, "Thou hast answered me." It is like a parting burst of sunshine at the end of a day of tempest. A man already transfixed by a buffalo’s horns has little hope of escape, but even thence God delivers. The psalmist did not know, but the Christian reader should not forget that the Prince of sufferers was yet more wondrously delivered from death by passing through death, and that by His victory all who cleave to Him are, in like manner, saved from the horns even while these gore them, and are then victors over death when they fall beneath its dart. The consequences of the psalmist’s deliverance are described in the last part ( Psalm 22:22-31 ) in language so wide that it is hard to suppose that any man could think his personal experiences so important and far-reaching. The whole congregation of Israel are to share in his thanksgiving and to learn more of God’s name through him ( Psalm 22:22-26 ). Nor does that bound his anticipations, for they traverse the whole world and embrace all lands and ages, and contemplate that the story of his sufferings and triumph will prove a true gospel, bringing every country and generation to remember and turn to Jehovah. The exuberant language becomes but one mouth. Such consequences, so widespread and age long, can follow from the story of but one life. If the sorrows of the preceding part can only be a description of the passion, the glories of the second can only be a vision of the universal and eternal kingdom of Christ. It is a gospel before the Gospels and an Apocalypse before Revelations. In the first strophe ( Psalm 22:22-26 ) the delivered singer vows to make God’s name known to His brethren. The epistle to the Hebrews quotes the vow as not only expressive of our Lord’s true manhood, but as specifying its purpose. Jesus became man that men might learn to know God; and the knowledge of His name streams most brightly from the cross. The death and resurrection, the sufferings and glory of Christ open deeper regions in the character of God than even His gracious life disclosed. Rising from the dead and exalted to the throne, He has "a new song" in His immortal lips, and more to teach concerning God than He had before. The psalm calls Israel to praise with the singer, and tells the ground of their joyful songs ( Psalm 22:23-24 ). Here the absence of any reference to the relation which the New Testament reveals between these sufferings and that praise is to be noted as an instance of the gradual development of prophecy. "We are not yet on the level of Isaiah 53:1-12 ." (Kirkpatrick, "Psalms," 152). The close of this part speaks of a sacrifice of which "the humble shall eat and be satisfied"-"I will pay my vows"- i.e . the thank offerings vowed when in trouble. The custom of feasting on the "sacrifices for peace offering for thanksgiving" { Leviticus 7:15 } is here referred to, but the ceremonial garb covers spiritual truth. The condition of partaking in this feast is humility, that poverty of spirit which knows itself to be hungry and unable to find food for itself. The consequence of partaking is satisfaction-a deep truth reaching far beyond the ceremonial emblem. A further result is that "your heart shall live forever"-an unmeaning hyperbole, but in one application of the words. We penetrate to the core of the psalm in this part, when we read it in the light of Christ’s words, "My flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed," and when we connect it with the central act of Christian worship, the Lord’s Supper. The universal and perpetual diffusion of the kingdom and knowledge of God is the theme of the closing strain ( Psalm 22:27-31 ). That diffusion is not definitely stated as the issue of the sufferings or deliverance, but the very fact that such a universal knowledge comes into view here requires that it should be so regarded, else the unity of the psalm is shattered. While, therefore, the ground alleged in Psalm 22:28 for this universal recognition of God is only His universal dominion we must suppose that the history of the singer as told to the world is the great fact which brings home to men the truth of God’s government over and care for them. True, men know God apart from revelation and from the gospel, but He is to them a forgotten God, and the great influence which helps them to "remember and turn to Jehovah" is the message of the Cross and the Throne of Jesus. The psalm had just laid down the condition of partaking in the sacrificial meal as being lowliness, and ( Psalm 22:29 ) it prophecies that the "fat" shall also share in it. That can only be, if they become "humble." Great and small, lofty and low must take the same place and accept the food of their souls as a meal of charity. The following words are very difficult, as the text stands. There would appear to be a contrast intended between the obese self-complacency; of the prosperous and proud, and the pauper-like misery of "those who are going down to the dust" and who "cannot keep their soul alive," that is, who are in such penury and wretchedness that they are all but dead. There is a place for ragged outcasts at the table side by side with the "fat on earth." Others take the words as referring to those already dead, and see here a hint that the dim regions of Sheol receive beams of the great light and some share in the great feast. The thought is beautiful, but too remote from anything else in the Old Testament to be adopted here. Various attempts at conjectural emendations and redivision of clauses have been made in order to lighten the difficulties of the verse. However attractive some of these are, the existing reading yields a not unworthy sense, and is best adhered to. As universality in extent, so perpetuity in duration is anticipated for the story of the psalmist’s deliverance and for the praise to God thence accruing. "A seed shall serve Him." That is one generation of obedient worshippers. "It shall be told of Jehovah unto the [next] generation." That is, a second, who shall receive from their progenitors, the seed that serves, the blessed story. "They shall declare His righteousness unto a people that shall be born." That is, a third, which in its turn receives the good news from parents’ lips. And what is the word which thus maintains itself living amid dying generations, and blesses each, and impels each to bequeath it as their best treasure to their successors? "That He hath done." Done what? With eloquent silence the psalm omits to specify. What was it that was meant by that word on the cross which, with like reticence, forbore to tell of what it spoke? "He hath done." "It is finished." No one word can express all that was accomplished in that sacrifice. Eternity will not fully supply the missing word, for the consequences of that finished work go on unfolding forever, and are forever unfinished, because forever increasing. The Expositor's Bible Text Courtesy of BibleSupport.com . Used by Permission.

My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me? Psalm 22 The prophetic image of the Prince of sufferers A. Maclaren, D. D. Who is the sufferer whose wail is the very voice of desolation and despair, and who yet dares to believe that the tale of his sorrow will be a gospel for the world? The usual answers are given. The title ascribes the authorship to David, and is accepted by Delitzsch and others. Hengstenberg and his followers see in the picture the ideal righteous man. Others think of Hezekiah or Jeremiah, with whose prophecies and history there are many points of connection. The most recent critics find here the personalised genius of Israel, or more precisely, the followers of Nehemiah, including the large-hearted Psalmist. (Cheyne, Orig. of Psalt. , 264.) On any theory of authorship the startling correspondence of the details of the Psalmist's sufferings with those of the Crucifixion has to be accounted for. How startling that correspondence is, both in the number and minuteness of its points, need not be insisted on. The recognition of these points in the Psalm as prophecies is one thing, the determination of their relation to the Psalmist's own experience is quite another. It is taken for granted in many quarters that every such detail in prophecy must describe the writer's own circumstances, and the supposition that they may transcend these is said to be "psychologically impossible." But it is somewhat hazardous for those who have not been subjects of prophetic inspiration to lay down canons of what is possible and impossible in it, and there are examples enough to prove that the relation of the prophets' speech to their consciousness and circumstances was singularly complex, and not to be unravelled by any such obiter dicta as to psychological possibilities. They were recipients of messages, and did not always understand what the "spirit of Christ which was in them did signify." Theories which neglect that aspect of the case do not front all the facts. Certainty as to the authorship of this Psalm is probably unattainable. How far its words fitted the condition of the singer must therefore remain unsettled. But that these minute and numerous correspondences are more than coincidences it seems perverse to deny. The present writer, for one, sees shining through the shadowy personality of the Psalmist the figure of the Prince of sufferers, and believes that whether the former's plaints applied in all their particulars to him, or whether there is in them a certain "element of hyperbole" which becomes simple fact in Jesus's sufferings, the Psalm is a prophecy of Him and them. In the former case the Psalmist's experience, in the latter case his utterances, were divinely shaped so as to prefigure the sacred sorrows of the Man of Sorrows. To a reader who shares in this understanding of the Psalm it must be holy ground, to be trodden reverently and with thoughts adoringly fixed on Jesus. Cold analysis is out of place. ( A. Maclaren, D. D. ) Summary of contents John Stevenson. The exclamation from the Cross — "My God," etc., led us to consider the Lord Jesus as our Surety, standing at His Father's judgment seat, and, conscious of innocence, inquiring what new charge was laid against Him to cause this new and most severe affliction, the hiding of His Father's countenance. We concluded that one reason why our Lord so earnestly cried to His Father was that He might ascribe to Him the glory of His deliverance, being unwilling to appropriate it to Himself by any exertion of His own power. And we found that the whole verse comprised three inquiries, to which we conceived these to be appropriate answers — First, Why hast Thou forsaken Me? Because Thou art bearing the sins of the world. Second, Why art Thou so far from helping Me? That the victory may be altogether Thine own. And third, Why art Thou so far from the words of My roaring? That Thou mayest learn all the required obedience by the things which Thou art suffering. We perceived that our Lord, in continuing His supplications, complained to His Father, but would not complain against Him; and that He fully acquitted Him of unkindness or injustice, by subjoining this filial and beautiful acknowledgment, "But Thou continuest holy." In the fulness of His sorrow our Lord next contrasted His own experience with that of the Father's, whose prayers were heard, and whose expectations were not confounded. He denominated Himself a worm, allied by His human nature to the meanest part of the creation — a crimson-coloured worm, covered with the imputed guilt of men, and He regarded Himself as "no man"; neither what man is by sin, nor what man was intended to be by his Creator. Our Lord's life in the flesh, we saw, might be illustrated by the heathen doctrine of metempsychosis; for He brought the recollections of the world of glory into this state of being; and therefore human life must have appeared, to His eyes, infinitely more mean, wretched, and loathsome than we can possibly conceive. We were next led to contemplate the enumerated mental sufferings of our much-tried Lord — the reproaches with which He was assailed, the mockery by which He was insulted, and the taunts which wounded His spirit to the quick. In the 9th and 10th verses we considered that pathetic and touching appeal which our dying Redeemer made to the heart of His Father, arguing from the helplessness of His infancy to the helplessness of His manhood; and casting the latter upon that paternal care which had provided for the former. We perceived how earnestly our Lord followed up this appeal with renewed entreaty for His Father's presence, expressing this great and only desire of His heart in these words, "Be not far from Me." The corporeal sufferings of the Man of Sorrows were next brought to our notice. The assault and encompassing of His enemies on every side was the first particularised; where also we considered the assaults of Satanic hosts upon the spirit of our Lord. Consequent on this assault succeeded universal faintness over His frame, complete languor and an extreme exhaustion, with intense and burning thirst. The piercing of our Lord's sacred body, in His hands and feet, was then considered, and the lingering death by crucifixion was described. Extended on the Cross, the emaciated state of the Saviour's worn-out frame was exposed to view, and all His bones might be told. In this condition He was subjected to the insulting gaze of the multitude. The soldiers also seized every article of His clothing; they parted His garments among them, and cast lots upon His vesture. Urged by these various and sore afflictions, and desiring with intense anxiety to enjoy again before He died the light and peace of His Father's presence, our blessed Saviour, in the next three verses, prayed with the most vehement importunity for a speedy and immediate answer. And whilst He was yet praying His Father granted His petition. Light dawned upon His soul. Darkness was dispelled from the face of nature, and from the heart of the Redeemer. And, as though issuing from a kind of spiritual death, and enjoying a spiritual resurrection, our Divine Surety exclaimed, "Thou hast heard Me." Importunity prevailed with God. The whole tone of feeling and sentiment in the Psalm becomes changed from this verse. Gratitude and thanksgiving occupy all the remaining portion. The Saviour, as it were, from the Cross, invited the members of His Church to join His eucharistic song He prospectively beheld the conversion of the world and the establishment of His own glorious kingdom. And the Psalm represents the Saviour as solacing His dying spirit, in the midst of His enemies, with the assurance of a holy and numerous seed, who should be counted to Him for a posterity. He heard, as it were, from His Cross, the song of the redeemed. ( John Stevenson. ) The great Sufferer and His relief Talbot W. Chambers, D. D. This Psalm sets forth the last extremity of human suffering, yet without any confession of sin, and closes with the sure hope of deliverance. We consider it an idealised description of the great Sufferer. I. THE COMPLAINT (vers. 1-10). The cry with which the Psalm opens is not an utterance of impatience or despair, but of grief and entreaty. It is the question of faith as well as of anguish. The second line suggests the great chasm between His outcry and the help He implores. God stands afar off, i.e. withholds His help. In the olden times the fathers trusted, and were not put to shame; why is the present case made an exception? It is such, for instead of being helped He is left to be reproached and despised; all the spectators join in derision. But faith turns the mock, cry of foes into an argument for deliverance. II. THE PRAYER AGAINST VIOLENCE (vers. 11-21). Having shown that He was justified in expecting Divine aid, He now shows that the necessity for it exists, It was no time for God to be far off, when distress was so near and there was no other helper. The figures that follow are taken from pastoral life. III. THE EXPRESSION OF THANKS AND HOPE (vers. 22-31). The Sufferer's certainty of deliverance is shown by His intention to give thanks for it. This will be done, not in private, but before the whole nation The experience here recorded, alike of sorrows and of joy, far transcends anything which we have reason to think that David passed through. ( Talbot W. Chambers, D. D. ) A picture of suffering sainthood D. Thomas, D. D. I. THE PRAYER OF SUCH SUFFERER. In Him who was "the Man of Sorrows" it finds its chief fulfilment. 1. The sufferings; they are —(i) Spiritual, through feeling of God's desertion of Him ( Matthew 27:46 ). In regard to Christ, it was not a fact that God had deserted Him, but He felt as if it were so. And of God's disregard of His prayer (ver. 2).(ii) Social, for the Sufferer was the victim of social contempt (ver. 6), and cruelty: "they pierced," etc. (ver. 16), and He tells of the physical effect of all this (vers. 14, 17). 2. The supplications; in which note —(i) The character in which God is addressed — "holy" (ver. 3). The God of His "fathers" (ver. 4), and of His earliest life (ver. 9).(ii) The object for which He is addressed, — that God would come to Him (vers. 11, 19), and that God would deliver Him (ver. 20).(iii) The earnestness with which He is addressed (vers. 1, 2). II. THE RELIEF GIVEN. See this set forth in ver. 22 onwards. Its results were — 1. The celebration of the Divine goodness (vers. 22, 24). 2. The conversion of the world to the true God (ver. 27). This shall be through (i) men remembering and turning unto the Lord. And (ii) because the kingdom is, etc. (ver. 28). And (iii) it shall be complete, including all nations, classes, and conditions. 3. The celebration of His religion to the end of time (vers. 30, 31). Not only is there a time to come when the whole generation shall be converted, but all the generations following shall celebrate His praise. ( D. Thomas, D. D. ) The withdrawal of God's sustaining presence from the Divine Son David Caldwell, A. M. So far, in this Psalm, we have had described to us the mental sufferings of Christ on the Cross; His physical sufferings and His final triumph are set forth in the portion of the Psalm yet to be explained. His mental sufferings were caused by the withdrawal of His Father's sustaining presence, and the reproaches of His enemies. The two united pressed His spirit with a weight of woe such as none besides have ever experienced. sustained by His Father, as He had always hitherto been, He no doubt could have endured the reproaches of men without complaint; but when His Father withdraws His sustaining presence there bursts from His riven heart the agonised cry, "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" Why has the Father Almighty forsaken His only begotten Son? For our sakes. For no sin of His Son, but for our sins the Father forsook Him. It was as our surety and substitute that Messiah felt in His soul the wrath of God against sin. He had taken the sinner's place, to endure the wrath of God due to the sinner's sin; and the Father Almighty could not spare His Son and save the sinner. One or the other must die; and God so loved the world that He gave His Son. He forsook His Son that He might not forsake us. Again, the Father Almighty forsook His Son that the Son's victory over death and hell might be altogether His own victory — His own as man, sustained by simple faith in God. It was the Father's purpose to discomfit Satan by the very same nature over which he had triumphed in Eden. Accordingly a holy human nature sustained by faith in God, was the Saviour's only protection and defence in the final conflict. God the Father has left Him, God the Spirit has left Him, and He has also renounced all reliance on His own God-like power to aid Him, so that He stands before His enemies having, as His only weapon of defence, what Adam had in Eden, a holy human nature to be sustained by simple trust in God. A holy human nature, sustained by faith alone, was the weapon with which the first Adam should have conquered Satan; a holy human nature, sustained by faith alone, was the weapon with which the second Adam did conquer Satan. He used no other weapon to gain Him the victory on Calvary, than that which Adam had in Eden. He withstood the onset made upon His holy will and nature, only because His faith in God was steadfast unto the end. And God left Him to Himself, to prove to Satan and the world that a pure heart, sustained by an unwavering faith, is a match, and more than a match, for every assault that can be made upon it. What a thought is this for the soul to rest upon. ( David Caldwell, A. M. ) Christ forsaken of His Father W. Pakenham Walsh, D. D. I. HOW ARE WE TO INTERPRET THESE AWFUL WORDS? 1. Not the cry of a mere martyr. 2. Not wrung from Him by agony of body, but by anguish of soul. II. WHY THIS CRY OF ANGUISH? 1. His disciples had forsaken Him, but it was not for that. God had forsaken Him. Christ was hanging there as our Surety and Substitute. 2. No other way of explaining this cry. This does explain it. Conflicting attributes in the Godhead to be harmonised before man could be accepted and forgiven. God found a way to reconcile them in the work and suffering of Christ. III. LEARN FROM THIS CRY — 1. The true nature of Christ's death — a ransom, an atonement. 2. The evil of sin, and how God abhors it. 3. The greatness of God's love, and how we may obtain His mercy. ( W. Pakenham Walsh, D. D. ) The saint forsaken in what sense J. Cumming. Sometimes God takes away from a Christian His comforting presence, but never His sustaining presence. You know the difference between sunshine and daylight. We have often daylight but little sunlight. A Christian has Gods daylight in his soul when he may not have sunlight; that is, he has enough to light him, but not enough to cheer and comfort him. Never was Jesus so forsaken as when He cried, My God, My God, etc., and yet was He never so strengthened by God's sustaining presence, for angels were at His service to minister to Him if He needed their ministry. ( J. Cumming. ) Forsaken of God, but not finally S. Bridge. Did you ever read that Christ did finally forsake a man in whose heart and soul He still did leave His goods, furniture, and spiritual household stuff? A man sometimes goes from home, and sometimes he does not quite leave his home. There is much difference between these two. If a man leave his home and come no more, then he carries away all his goods; and when you see them carried away you say, "This man will come no more. But though a man ride a great journey, yet he may come again;" and you say, "Surely he will come again." Why? Because still his goods, wife, and children are in his house; so, though Christ be long absent, yet if His household stuff abide in the heart — if there be the same desires after Him and delight in Him, you may say, "Surely He will come again." When did Christ ever forsake a man in whose heart He left this spiritual furniture? ( S. Bridge. ) O my God, I cry in the daytime, but Thou hearest not; and in the night season, and am not silent. Psalm 22:2 Why so many prayers art unanswered Bishop Stevens. Our prayers often fail of success — I. BECAUSE OF WANT OF FAITH. There are a multitude of prayers offered to God with something like this feeling: "Well, perhaps God will hear and answer; perhaps not. At any rate, I may as well pray; and if the answer comes, well: if not, I at least have done my duty." Now, such a feeling as this, though it be not positive infidelity, is so near to it as to be most offensive to God, and can only bring forth His severe displeasure. The matter of prayer is one thing, the manner of prayer is another. If the manner of presenting our prayer is right, and the matter wrong, then, of course, will it miscarry. If the matter is right and the manner wrong, the prayer is likewise fruitless of good. II. BECAUSE WE EVINCE A PRACTICAL UNBELIEF IN GOD'S ABILITY TO GRANT US OUR REQUESTS. We act as if probabilities affected God as they do us: we measure His ability by our own. We do not remember that "with God nothing is impossible." III. THE INDULGENCE OF SOME ONE OR MORE KNOWN SINS. Do we not read, "If I regard iniquity in my heart the Lord will not hear me." To pray, and yet to commit wilful sin, or still to pursue a course of secret or open iniquity, is not only mocking God with lip service, but is also acting with hypocrisy, professing one thing but doing another. A praying spirit and a sinning heart cannot dwell together. IV. REMISSNESS IN THE PERFORMANCE OF OUR CHRISTIAN DUTY. This tendency in the minds of many to divorce prayer from all the instrumentalities which God has connected with its being answered is one fruitful source of evil, and a cause why so many prayers are uttered in vain. To illustrate this: suppose that you are threatened with shipwreck — the storm rages fearfully, the vessel is dashed upon the rocks and is broken up, every hope of escape seems gone, and in the extremity of your distress you cry unto God to save you from this threatened death! But how do you expect He will save you? — by a miracle? — by bearing you through the air and landing you safely on the shore? Or do you not rather look for an answer to your prayer by means of human agency, and by physical and natural instrumentality? — by a lifeboat, by a cable fastened to the rock, by the buoying up of some part of the wreck until it is washed upon the beach. And suppose that, having prayed to God for succour, you yet refuse to use the instrumentality which, in answer to your prayer, He has furnished for your safety. You decline to get into the lifeboat, or object to be drawn ashore by a rope, or will not commit yourself to some means provided for your escape: can you be saved? God answered your prayer, not by giving you instantaneously the end desired, but by giving you means adequate to secure that end; and if you refused the means you could not expect the end. So with spiritual blessings. God answers us through the instrumentality of duties; and we find the end we desire when we use the means He has enjoined. Another reason why our prayers are not answered is — V. BECAUSE WE DO NOT PERSEVERE IN PRAYER. One other way in which we ask and receive not, because we ask amiss, is — VI. BY ASKING THINGS WHICH DO NOT ACCORD WITH GOD'S PURPOSES OF DISCIPLINE OR MERCY. We must not forget the great truth, that God uses this world as a school of discipline, to fit us for a holier state above. In this state trials, disappointments, etc., are the necessary instruments whereby our souls are purged and fitted for heaven. Yet we often pray that God would relieve us from this trial, that He would exempt us from this threatened affliction; but in His infinite wisdom He knows that to grant these requests would be productive of evil rather than good, as it is "in the furnace of affliction" that God often chooses His saints, and "through much tribulation that they enter into the kingdom of heaven." ( Bishop Stevens. ) Prayers which are not answered John Trapp. They that have conduit water come into their houses, if no water come they do not conclude the spring to be dry, but the pipes to be stopped or broken. If prayer speed not, we must be sure that the fault is not in God, but in ourselves; were we but ripe for mercy, He is ready to extend it to us, and even waits for the purpose. ( John Trapp. ) But Thou art holy, O Thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel. Psalm 22:3 A habitation of God H. Melvill, B. D. There is ordinarily something like a proportion maintained between the power of a monarch and the splendour of his palace. If you visit countries you will generally find that the mightier the king and the more extended his sway the more sumptuous are the royal residences. And the criterion is altogether a just one; for we have a full right to expect that the residence of the monarch will be a kind of index of his might; that in proportion to the largeness of his revenues and the extent of his dominion will be the magnificence of architecture and the richness of decoration which distinguish his mansion from those of his subjects. The house is, indeed, in most cases throughout society, the sign of the means of its inhabitant; it grows loftier than before, and is furnished in a more costly style as a man advances in the world and gathers to himself more of opulence and influence. There will be exceptions to every such rule; but these will ordinarily be in cases of meanness and penuriousness. But there is a King whose empire is all space, and whose subjects all that breathe. What shall be a fitting palace for Him? How shall the rule we have laid down be proved applicable in the instance of our Maker? It must fail, because nothing, oven of His own workmanship, can bear any proportion with Him. Solomon said, "The heaven, even the heaven of heavens, cannot contain Thee." And when we go on to speak of churches, we are compelled to finish Solomon's sentence and say, "How much less this house which I have built." And yet as that temple, so churches may be properly styled — houses of God. He abides in them as He abides not in any other structure. And they ought to be beautiful. It is no good sign when palaces are more and more costly, and churches less and less noble. If God is to have a house at all, that house should be the noblest that we have the power of rearing; bearing such proportion as our ability can effectuate, to the greatness of the Being who is to show Himself within its walls. Otherwise, if our churches be inferior to our other structures, less splendid in design, less rich in architecture, we give the strongest of all possible proofs that we are less disposed to do honour to God than to ourselves; that we think the "curtains" good enough for the ark, and reserve the "cedar" for our own habitation. It was not thus with our ancestors, whom we are ready enough to accuse of superstition, but in whom there must have been better and loftier feelings. Witness the cathedrals which yet crest our land; mightier and more sumptuous, as they ought to be, than even our palaces. Tell me not that a mere dark superstition actuated the men who designed and executed these sublime edifices. The long-drawn aisles, the fretted reels, the dim recesses, the soaring spires, all witness that the architect had grand thoughts of God, and strove to embody them in combinations of the wood and the stone, even as the poet his conceptions in the melodies of verse, or the orator his in the majesty of eloquence. It is a cold and withered piety which catches no inspiration from the structure. And there must, we believe, have been lofty and ardent piety in those who could plan structures that thus seem to furnish instances of their piety to successive generations. The cathedral, with its awe-inciting vastness, its storied windows, its mellowed light, its deepened shadows, appears to me like the rich volume of some old divine: I gather from the work the mind of the author, and it is a mind which has grown great in musing upon God. But we have another cathedral to throw open before you, another dwelling place of Deity, not builded up of the stars which God originally wrought into His pavilion, nor yet of the marble and the cedar, which we ourselves may work into sumptuous edifices. Listen to our text. How is God therein addressed? "O Thou, that inhabitest the praises of Israel." It is the Lord Jesus Christ who speaks, and He it is who directs attention to the structure, declaring that it has not only been reared, but is actually inhabited by God. For though "Israel" be only the Church, and every member of that Church have been born in sin and "shapen in iniquity," I find no less a Being than the Redeemer Himself, and that too in His last moments, when trial was before Him in all its severity, addressing His Father as "Thou who inhabitest the praises of Israel." Now, is there any proportion here between the house and the inhabitant? Here is a cathedral built of human praises. Why should it be a cathedral in any sense worthy of God, or one within which God might be expected to dwell? You tell me that very rich and acceptable must be the thanksgiving of angels; burning and beautiful creatures, who spend existence in magnifying the Being by whom it was bestowed. Who doubts it! But they have only to thank God for creation. Their praise must be like that of Adam, whilst he was yet in innocence, and paradise in loveliness; whose morning and evening hymn spoke glowingly of a glorious Benefactor. And I can thank God for creation. The angel's song is mine, though mine belongs not to the angel. But I have to thank God for more than creation, for more than life. I have to thank Him for a second creation, for life out of death; and angels must yield to me here. If, then, sanctuaries are to be builded of praise, who shall be the architects of that in which Deity may be most expected to take up His abode? Behold the structures. Yonder is that which unfallen creatures are roaring; and very noble and brilliant is the fabric. How lofty those columns, which are formed out of anthems that commemorate the inaccessible majesties of Godhead! How solemn those dim recesses, where mention is made of the mysteries of the Divine nature! How rich that roof, which is wrought out of melodies which hymn the goodness of the universal Parent! But now turn to that which fallen creatures build. It is based on the "Rock of Ages"; the sure foundation stone, which God Himself laid in Zion. And its walls, what are they but the celebration of attributes, which would have been comparatively hidden if not discovered in redemption? Its pillars, what but song upon song, each witnessing to perfections which could not show themselves in an unstained creation! Its aisles, what but prolonged choruses, telling out, till lost in the depths of eternity, the marvels of a work which even cherubim and seraphim had failed to imagine! And what its domes, its pinnacles, its spires, but soaring notes which bear aloft the stupendous truth, that He who is to everlasting could die, and that He who was from everlasting could be born; that God became man, and that man may now rise into fellowship with God! Ah! this is the cathedral. This could never have been built had not God come out from the secrecies of His magnificence, and thrown open depths in Himself which the most penetrating intelligence could never have explored. There is not a stone in this which may not be said to have been hewn by Himself out of the unfathomable mine of His perfections; there is not a niche which is not filled with a brighter image of Deity than the universe could have furnished had there never been transgression; there is not an altar on which burns not a more brilliant fire than could have been kindled had not the flame of God's wrath against sin been quenched in the blood of God's only begotten Son. And Christ, as He hung upon the Cross and contemplated the effects of the work which He was then bringing to a close, must have looked on wondrous structures, each of loftiest architecture and splendid ornament — the regenerated earth, the universe no longer defiled by one dark spot; but He knew that His work was to be preeminently illustrious, and the source of the highest glory of all to our Creator. Upon this, therefore, might He be expected to fasten; and though all orders of being were before Him, eager to build their Maker a house — angel and archangel, from whose swelling choir started, as by enchantment, a thousand ethereal temples — who shall marvel that He selected us the feeble, us the sinful, and knowing that He was making us "heirs of God," yea, "joint heirs with Himself," left us to rear a sanctuary which should be more honoured than any other; addressing Himself thus with His dying breath to His Father — "O Thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel"? ( H. Melvill, B. D. ) Our fathers trusted in Thee. Psalm 22:4 The God of our fathers. -- A sermon to young men J. Thew. The age in which we live is an enlightened age. And no man is bound to be religious for no better reason than that his father was religious before him. With advancing light and knowledge great changes are coming, or have already come. But how far do such things affect our attitude and utterance like those of the text? Offer first one or two regulative thoughts. 1. It is only right and fair to remember that the great facts of human nature and of human life with which religion has to do remain substantially the same throughout the ages. In the great matters of essential religion, in the main, no one age is more favoured than another. "Our fathers'" disease is our disease; and may not "our fathers'" cure be our cure? 2. Scepticism and unbelief are not new. It is ignorance of the history of unbelief that makes modern unbelief, to many minds, so formidable. Scepticism may change its form, — now the light raillery of a Voltaire, now the learning and logical acumen of a Hume, now the bitter wail of a Mill, — but it is one thing, one principle, one substance. Every age has its sceptic, or its sceptics. It looks almost as if Almighty God permitted them that, intellectually, the Church might be kept from going to sleep. 3. Science is doing grand things today. Her beneficent step is heard almost everywhere. But physical science is comparatively young. And you know the characteristic defects of youth. It is headstrong and impatient, and often irreverent.It is sometimes not over reticent, even on matters concerning which it cannot form reliable judgments I now speak on "the claims of the religion of our fathers." 1. It was "our fathers'." That the sires trusted in God is a very sufficient reason why the sons should hesitate, and hesitate long, before they reach the grave conclusion that there is no God, or that if there be He cannot be trusted because He cannot be known. One of the healthiest facts of human nature and of human life has ever been that spirit of reverence for the past which links generation to generation, and practically makes the race one. We Englishmen are by no means destitute of this fine sentiment. 2. Our fathers proved it. What is the testimony borne by honest men who have preceded us? It is that the religion of Jesus is a grand reality and not a human dream; that the Bible contains a Divine and all-satisfying revelation of God; that it is not a fabrication or an imposture; that the heart of man is weary till it find rest in Christ; that there is such rest in Christ; that in the Cross of the Crucified One there is hope for all, comfort for all, heaven for all! And how are we asked to receive that testimony Some would have us believe that it is untrustworthy. Surely "our fathers" were not mere intellectual weaklings? What are we to say of the testimony they bore? We will go long before we speak ill, or listen with patience to ill spoken, of the bridge which bore them over! 3. They died in the faith of it. For me, I believe in the "God of my fathers." I believe in the religion of my fathers. I will take the liberty of expressing it in forms suited to the spirit and the habits of thought of the age in which we live; but the essential Gospel of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ I keep. ( J. Thew. ) Gods faithfulness to ancient saints good ground for trust and hope John Morison. Those who look upon this Psalm as having a primary reference to the King of Israel attribute great beauty to these words, from the very pleasing conjecture that David was, at the time of composing them, sojourning at Mahanaim, where Jacob, in his distress, wrestled with the angel

22:1-10 The Spirit of Christ, which was in the prophets, testifies in this psalm, clearly and fully, the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that should follow. We have a sorrowful complaint of God's withdrawings. This may be applied to any child of God, pressed down, overwhelmed with grief and terror. Spiritual desertions are the saints' sorest afflictions; but even their complaint of these burdens is a sign of spiritual life, and spiritual senses exercised. To cry our, My God, why am I sick? why am I poor? savours of discontent and worldliness. But, Why hast thou forsaken me? is the language of a heart binding up its happiness in God's favour. This must be applied to Christ. In the first words of this complaint, he poured out his soul before God when he was upon the cross, Mt 27:46. Being truly man, Christ felt a natural unwillingness to pass through such great sorrows, yet his zeal and love prevailed. Christ declared the holiness of God, his heavenly Father, in his sharpest sufferings; nay, declared them to be a proof of it, for which he would be continually praised by his Israel, more than for all other deliverances they received. Never any that hoped in thee, were made ashamed of their hope; never any that sought thee, sought thee in vain. Here is a complaint of the contempt and reproach of men. The Saviour here spoke of the abject state to which he was reduced. The history of Christ's sufferings, and of his birth, explains this prophecy. 22:11-21 In these verses we have Christ suffering, and Christ praying; by which we are directed to look for crosses, and to look up to God under them. The very manner of Christ's death is described, though not in use among the Jews. They pierced his hands and his feet, which were nailed to the accursed tree, and his whole body was left so to hang as to suffer the most severe pain and torture. His natural force failed, being wasted by the fire of Divine wrath preying upon his spirits. Who then can stand before God's anger? or who knows the power of it? The life of the sinner was forfeited, and the life of the Sacrifice must be the ransom for it. Our Lord Jesus was stripped, when he was crucified, that he might clothe us with the robe of his righteousness. Thus it was written, therefore thus it behoved Christ to suffer. Let all this confirm our faith in him as the true Messiah, and excite our love to him as the best of friends, who loved us, and suffered all this for us. Christ in his agony prayed, prayed earnestly, prayed that the cup might pass from him. When we cannot rejoice in God as our song, yet let us stay ourselves upon him as our strength; and take the comfort of spiritual supports, when we cannot have spiritual delights. He prays to be delivered from the Divine wrath. He that has delivered, doth deliver, and will do so. We should think upon the sufferings and resurrection of Christ, till we feel in our souls the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings. 22:22-31 The Saviour now speaks as risen from the dead. The first words of the complaint were used by Christ himself upon the cross; the first words of the triumph are expressly applied to him, Heb 2:12. All our praises must refer to the work of redemption. The suffering of the Redeemer was graciously accepted as a full satisfaction for sin. Though it was offered for sinful men, the Father did not despise or abhor it for our sakes. This ought to be the matter of our thanksgiving. All humble, gracious souls should have a full satisfaction and happiness in him. Those that hunger and thirst after righteousness in Christ, shall not labour for that which satisfies not. Those that are much in praying, will be much in thanksgiving. Those that turn to God, will make conscience of worshipping before him. Let every tongue confess that he is Lord. High and low, rich and poor, bond and free, meet in Christ. Seeing we cannot keep alive our own souls, it is our wisdom, by obedient faith, to commit our souls to Christ, who is able to save and keep them alive for ever. A seed shall serve him. God will have a church in the world to the end of time. They shall be accounted to him for a generation; he will be the same to them that he was to those who went before them. His righteousness, and not any of their own, they shall declare to be the foundation of all their hopes, and the fountain of all their joys. Redemption by Christ is the Lord's own doing. Here we see the free love and compassion of God the Father, and of our Lord Jesus Christ, for us wretched sinners, as the source of all grace and consolation; the example we are to follow, the treatment as Christians we are to expect, and the conduct under it we are to adopt. Every lesson may here be learned that can profit the humbled soul. Let those who go about to establish their own righteousness inquire, why the beloved Son of God should thus suffer, if their own doings could atone for sin? Let the ungodly professor consider whether the Saviour thus honoured the Divine law, to purchase him the privilege of despising it. Let the careless take warning to flee from the wrath to come, and the trembling rest their hopes upon this merciful Redeemer. Let the tempted and distressed believer cheerfully expect a happy end of every trial.