A desperate time
A couple of years ago, I underwent an operation to repair a separation in my abdominal muscles. It should have been a fairly straightforward procedure, one which, given I’d already had three caesareans, I could handle with relative ease but the days following the surgery turned out to be some of the worst of my life.
Due to an unforeseen circumstance, I found myself unable to eat, unable to sleep, in constant pain and barely able to breathe. Every moment was an effort, and after several days, I was in despair. Growing weaker by the day, I had less energy or stamina to bear the ongoing pain and discomfort. My mental health crashed, and as I lay in bed one night, I broke down in desperate tears, begging God to relieve the suffering, even if it meant taking me from this world. Rarely have I prayed with such earnestness.
Amazingly, later that night I was able to sleep. The next morning, the problem that had been causing my distress was identified and resolved, and from then on, I gradually regained health and strength. My relief was profound. For a while, every minute of respite felt precious.
A realisation
The following day, I was reading C. J. Mahaney’s book, Living the Cross Centered Life, which a friend had lent me. In it, he describes Jesus’ suffering on the cross as ‘an anguish infinitely darker than any death-shadowed valley you or I will ever pass through.’ I had been through a dark and desperate few days. I had found myself at the end of what I’d felt I could bear. Yet, as I was about to realise, I had not experienced the horrors I could have suffered. In fact, I had been spared the true pain of ultimate despair.
When I spoke to my mum about what I was reading, she reminded me that Jesus endured all he did so that we would never have to know the same agony of separation from God that he knew; and so that we would always have someone to turn to, and never feel the emptiness of life – and eternity – without him. Suddenly, the events of the previous night came flooding back: the utter despair; my desperate prayer and God’s merciful answer. With overwhelming gratitude, it dawned on me that without Jesus’ suffering on my behalf, I would not have had anyone to cry to. Had he not willingly put himself in that place of abandonment, had he not cried out, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ (Matt. 27:46), it would have been me in that position – and rightly so. In my hour of anguish, I would have found the heavens silent and cold, with no one to hear me. Even the thought of such a thing was unbearable. To have faced the horror and found that there was no hope.
Yet that is exactly what Jesus experienced for us. Not only was heaven silent and comfortless but he bore the wrath and just anger of his Father against our sin, which he was carrying on our behalf. God the Father turned his face away from his Son, and so Jesus endured what I could hardly bear to imagine, all because he loves us. ‘Jesus took all the punishment,’ Mahaney writes, ‘Jesus received all the wrath.’
A lasting impression
Jesus knew what he would have to endure at Calvary. In the hours leading up to his death, he said, ‘My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,’ and prayed, ‘If it is possible, may this cup be taken from me’ (Matt. 26:38-39). He knew he would face, amongst other things, the most terrible sense of abandonment. Yet he did it so that, as his people, we would never be in that position.
This truth does not mean we will never experience any extremely difficult situations. Christians can, and do, suffer horribly at times in this life which can be hard to understand. Yet whatever we experience, whatever depths we sink into, we will never be ultimately abandoned; we will never be truly alone; we will never have no-one to turn to. Because of Jesus’ forsakenness, we can claim his promise to ‘never leave us nor forsake us’ (Heb. 13:5), and hear in our hearts the certainty of his words, that ‘I am with you always, to the very end of the age’ (Matt. 28:20).
This truth should move us to feel at least three things. Firstly, a deep and heartfelt gratitude. Jesus gave himself up to unimaginable grief in order to spare us from the ultimate suffering and despair that our sins deserve. My realisation that day prompted me to cry out with all the more meaning, ‘Thank you, Lord!’
Secondly, it should convince us of God’s love for us. Mahaney writes that when we look at the cross, it is as though God whispers to us, ‘Isn’t that sufficient? I haven’t spared my own Son; I deformed and disfigured and crushed him for you. What more could I do to persuade you that I love you?’
Thirdly, it should fill us with hope and confidence as we face life in this sorrow-ridden world. Whatever we may have to endure, now or in the future, we will never be alone. We will always have our loving Father to call out to and he will always hear us. We can experience the tender embrace he is able to give, even amid the worst suffering.
This Easter, may we be filled with renewed relief, gratitude and wonder at what Jesus endured for us, and may we understand afresh the wonderful privilege we enjoy as a result, as we say with the hymn writer:
My Saviour will never forsake me,
unveiling his merciful face,
his presence and promise almighty
redeeming his loved ones by grace.
In shades of the valley’s dark terror,
where hell and its horror hold sway,
my Jesus will reach out in power,
and save me by his only way.
(W. Vernon Higham)
