Understanding Psalms 22:1: Cry to God in Pain

The Cry from the Depths: Understanding Psalm 22:1 in Context

This verse opens a psalm that begins in agony but ends in triumph, capturing the full journey from suffering to salvation.

Psalm 22 is a lament - David pours out his pain, feeling surrounded by enemies and disconnected from God’s help. Yet it’s also prophetic, pointing beyond David’s own pain to the suffering of the Messiah. Jesus’ cry from the cross in Matthew 27:46 - 'About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”)' - directly quotes this verse, anchoring David’s ancient cry in the ultimate moment of redemptive suffering. This connection shows how deeply personal pain can carry cosmic significance.

The phrase 'My God, my God' starts with intimacy, not distance - this isn’t a cry into the void, but to a God known and trusted. 'Why have you forsaken me?' It expresses the raw feeling of abandonment, not a statement of fact. It is the human soul feeling utterly alone in the moment of greatest trial. The second line - 'Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?' - shows that God seems silent even though the sufferer is crying out constantly, their groaning unrelieved by rescue.

Though David felt abandoned, and Jesus truly experienced divine forsaking as He bore the weight of sin, the psalm doesn’t end here. It moves toward trust and deliverance, showing that honesty in pain is not faithlessness - it’s the beginning of hope. This cry opens the door to the rest of the psalm, where suffering gives way to praise and victory.

The Language of Lament: How Pain Speaks in Psalm 22:1

The cry of Psalm 22:1 is emotional, and its poetic intensity reveals the soul’s struggle when God seems silent.

The repetition 'My God, my God' uses a literary technique called synthetic parallelism, where the second line deepens the first - not repeating the same idea, but building on it with rising emotion. This doubling isn’t empty. It is the language of intimacy strained by agony, like a child calling out to a parent who doesn’t answer. The rhetorical question 'Why have you forsaken me?' doesn’t expect an immediate reply but expresses the shock of feeling abandoned by the One who promised to stay close. This mirrors Jesus’ own cry on the cross in Matthew 27:46, showing that even the Son of God voiced this same piercing sense of separation.

The second line - 'Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?' - adds another layer: God is not merely absent. He seems inactive despite constant pleading. The 'words of my groaning' suggests prayer that hasn’t changed the pain, a cry that echoes without relief. This divine silence doesn’t mean God is gone, but it feels real in the moment, much like in Jeremiah 4:23. The prophet sees chaos and says, 'I looked at the earth, and it was formless and empty; I looked at the heavens, and their light was gone.' In both cases, the world feels unmade, and God’s presence is hidden.

Honesty in suffering isn’t a failure of faith - it’s often the deepest form of it.

Yet the very act of crying out assumes someone is there to hear. David doesn’t shout into the air - he calls to 'My God,' not 'a god.' The psalm continues with vivid images of being surrounded like a lion (verse 13) or pierced like hands and feet (verse 16), but it also ends in worship among the congregation (verse 25). This journey from pain to praise teaches us that raw honesty with God isn’t the end of faith - it’s often the beginning of deliverance. The groaning doesn’t vanish, but it finds a home in the presence of a God who listens, even when He seems far.

When God Feels Absent: The Sacred Honesty of Feeling Forsaken

This verse doesn’t hide behind piety - it plunges into the raw ache of feeling forsaken, showing us that faith isn’t the absence of doubt, but the courage to speak it to God.

Job once said, 'If I go to the east, he is not there; if I go to the west, I do not find him. He hides his face from me and I cannot see him' (Job 23:8-9). Like David and later Jesus, Job wasn’t faithless - he was faithful in the fire, searching for God even when every sign said He was gone. This kind of lament doesn’t reject God. It assumes He is there to hear, even when He feels distant.

Isaiah foretold a suffering servant who would be 'pierced for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities... and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all' (Isaiah 53:4-6). Jesus, hanging on the cross and quoting Psalm 22:1, lived this prophecy fully. He felt abandoned and bore the weight of sin that made true fellowship with the Father impossible for a moment. In that cry, 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?' we hear both the depth of human suffering and the fulfillment of divine wisdom: God himself entering our darkest hour.

To cry out in abandonment is not to deny God’s presence, but to reach for Him in the dark.

So this psalm becomes both a prayer Jesus prayed and a prayer about Jesus - His voice from the cross, and the voice of all who suffer because of Him. It shows us that God is not distant from pain but draws near through it, especially in Christ. The next movement of the psalm, like the resurrection after the cross, will reveal that silence is not absence, and groaning is not forgotten.

From Psalm to Cross: The Divine Cry Fulfilled in Christ

This anguished question from Psalm 22:1 isn’t merely repeated in the Gospels - it is fulfilled in the moment it seems most hopeless.

In Matthew 27:46, Jesus cries out, 'About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”)' - a direct echo of David’s lament. Mark 15:34 records the same moment, reinforcing that this was not a random utterance but the heart of Christ’s suffering. These Gospel accounts quote the psalm and reveal that the ancient words were waiting for this hour, pointing to a redemption only Jesus could accomplish.

When Jesus spoke Psalm 22:1 on the cross, He was not merely expressing emotional pain. He was bearing the weight of all sin, experiencing true separation from the Father so we never would have to. This moment fulfills Isaiah’s prophecy of the suffering servant who would be 'pierced for our transgressions' and on whom 'the Lord has laid the iniquity of us all' (Isaiah 53:5-6). The psalm that began with groaning ends in victory, as the cross leads to resurrection. What David felt in isolation, Christ fulfilled in reality - turning a cry of despair into the foundation of hope.

The cry of abandonment became the cornerstone of salvation.

You can live this out by bringing your honest pain to God instead of hiding it - like admitting in prayer, 'I feel alone today, but I’m still calling You my God.' You can trust that Jesus understands your deepest struggles because He has been there, even quoting this psalm in His darkest moment. When you face confusion or silence from God, remember that groaning can be worship too. And when you forgive others, do it knowing that the One who felt forsaken is the same One who prayed, 'Father, forgive them' - showing that love wins through loss.

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