John Calvin Commentary Psalms 22:1

John Calvin Commentary

Psalms 22:1

1509–1564
Protestant
John Calvin
John Calvin

John Calvin Commentary

Psalms 22:1

1509–1564
Protestant
SCRIPTURE

"My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? [Why art thou so] far from helping me, [and from] the words of my groaning?" — Psalms 22:1 (ASV)

My God! The first verse contains two remarkable sentences, which, although apparently contrary to each other, yet continually enter into the minds of the godly together. When the Psalmist speaks of being forsaken and cast off by God, it seems to be the complaint of a man in despair; for can a man have a single spark of faith remaining in him when he believes that there is no longer any help for him in God?

And yet, in calling God twice his own God, and pouring out his groanings to Him, he clearly confesses his faith. With this inward conflict the godly must inevitably struggle whenever God withdraws from them the signs of His favor, so that, in whatever direction they turn their eyes, they see nothing but the darkness of night.

I say that the people of God, in wrestling with themselves, on the one hand discover the weakness of the flesh, and on the other give evidence of their faith. As for the reprobate, because they cherish their distrust of God in their hearts, their mental confusion overwhelms them, and thus totally makes them incapable of aspiring to the grace of God by faith.

That David sustained the assaults of temptation, without being overwhelmed or swallowed up by it, can be easily gathered from his words. He was greatly oppressed with sorrow, but despite this, he breaks forth into the language of assurance, My God! my God! which he could not have done without vigorously resisting the contrary conviction that God had forsaken him.

There is not one of the godly who does not daily experience the same thing within himself. According to the judgment of the flesh, he thinks he is cast off and forsaken by God, while yet by faith he apprehends the grace of God, which is hidden from the eye of sense and reason. Thus it happens that conflicting emotions are mingled and interwoven in the prayers of the faithful.

Carnal sense and reason inevitably conceive of God as being either favorable or hostile, according to the present circumstances they observe. Therefore, when he allows us to remain long in sorrow, and, so to speak, to pine away under it, we inevitably feel, according to the flesh's perception, as if he had completely forgotten us.

When such a perplexing thought takes complete possession of a person's mind, it overwhelms him with profound unbelief, and he neither seeks nor any longer expects to find a remedy. But if faith comes to his aid against such a temptation, the same person who, judging from the outward appearance of things, regarded God as angry with him or as having abandoned him, beholds in the mirror of the promises the grace of God which is hidden and distant.

Between these two conflicting emotions the faithful are agitated and, so to speak, fluctuate, when Satan, on the one hand, by showing them the signs of God's wrath, urges them toward despair and tries to completely overthrow their faith; while faith, on the other hand, by calling them back to the promises, teaches them to wait patiently and to trust in God, until he again shows them his fatherly countenance.

We see then the source of this exclamation, My God! my God! and also the source of the complaint which immediately follows, Why have you forsaken me? While the intensity of grief and the weakness of the flesh forced from the Psalmist these words, I am forsaken of God; faith, lest he should sink into despair when so severely tried, put into his mouth a correction of this language, so that he boldly called God, whom he thought had forsaken him, his God.

Indeed, we see that he has given the first place to faith. Before he allows himself to utter his complaint, to ensure faith's preeminence, he first declares that he still claimed God as his own God, and took refuge in Him. And as fleshly emotions, once they break forth, are not easily restrained but rather carry us beyond the bounds of reason, it is certainly good to repress them at the very beginning.

David, therefore, observed the best possible order by giving his faith precedence—expressing it before giving vent to his sorrow, and qualifying the complaint he afterwards makes about the greatness of his calamities with devout prayer. Had he spoken simply and precisely in these terms, "Lord, why do you forsake me?" he would have seemed, by such a bitter complaint, to murmur against God. Besides, his mind would have been in great danger of being embittered with discontent through the greatness of his grief.

But by raising up the rampart of faith here against murmuring and discontent, he keeps all his thoughts and feelings under restraint, so that they do not break beyond proper bounds.

Nor is the repetition superfluous when he twice calls God his God; and, a little after, he even repeats the same words a third time. When God, as if He had cast off all care for us, overlooks our miseries and groanings as if He did not see them, the conflict with this type of temptation is arduous and painful, and therefore David more strenuously exerts himself to seek the confirmation of his faith.

Faith does not gain the victory at the first encounter, but after receiving many blows, and after being tested with many trials, she at length comes forth victorious. I do not say that David was such a courageous and valiant champion that his faith did not waver. The faithful may exert all their efforts to subdue their carnal desires, that they may subject and devote themselves wholly to God; but still some weakness always remains in them.

From this came that limping of holy Jacob, which Moses mentions in Genesis 32:24; for although he prevailed in wrestling with God, yet he ever after bore the mark of his sinful defect. By such examples God encourages his servants to perseverance, lest, from awareness of their own weakness, they should sink into despair.

Therefore, the means we ought to adopt whenever our flesh becomes unruly and, like an impetuous tempest, hurries us into impatience, is to strive against it and to try to restrain its impetuosity. In doing this, it is true, we will be agitated and sorely tried, but our faith will nevertheless continue safe and be preserved from shipwreck.

Furthermore, we can gather from the very form of the complaint David makes here that, not without cause, he redoubled the words by which his faith might be sustained. He does not simply say that he was forsaken by God, but he adds that God was far from his help, since when He saw him in the greatest danger, He gave him no sign to encourage him in the hope of obtaining deliverance.

Since God has the ability to help us, if, when He sees us exposed as prey to our enemies, He nevertheless sits still as if He did not care about us, who would not say that He has drawn back His hand so that He may not deliver us? Again, by the expression, the words of my roaring, the Psalmist indicates that he was distressed and tormented in the highest degree.

He certainly was not a man of so little courage as to howl in this manner like a brute beast on account of some slight or ordinary affliction. We must therefore conclude that the distress was very great which could extort such roaring from a man distinguished for meekness and for the undaunted courage with which he endured calamities.

As our Savior Jesus Christ, when hanging on the cross and when ready to yield up his soul into the hands of God his Father, used these very words (Matthew 27:46), we must consider how these two things can agree: that Christ was the only begotten Son of God, and yet that he was so penetrated with grief, seized with such great mental trouble, as to cry out that God his Father had forsaken him.

The apparent contradiction between these two statements has compelled many interpreters to resort to evasions for fear of charging Christ with blame in this matter. Accordingly, they have said that Christ made this complaint more according to the opinion of the common people who witnessed his sufferings, than from any feeling he had of being deserted by his Father.

But they have not considered that they greatly lessen the benefit of our redemption by imagining that Christ was altogether exempt from the terrors which the judgment of God inflicts upon sinners. It was a groundless fear to be afraid of making Christ subject to such great sorrow, lest they should diminish his glory.

As Peter, in Acts 2:24, clearly testifies that it was not possible that he should be holden of the pains of death, it follows that he was not altogether exempt from them. And as he became our representative and took upon himself our sins, it was certainly necessary that he should appear before the judgment-seat of God as a sinner.

From this came the terror and dread which compelled him to pray for deliverance from death; not that it was so grievous to him merely to depart from this life, but because the curse of God, to which all who are sinners are exposed, was before his eyes.

Now, if during his first conflict his sweat was as it were great drops of blood, and he needed an angel to comfort him (Luke 22:43), it is not surprising if, in his last sufferings on the cross, he uttered a complaint which indicated the deepest sorrow.

Incidentally, it should be noted that Christ, although subject to human passions and emotions, never fell into sin through the weakness of the flesh, for the perfection of his nature preserved him from all excess.

He could therefore overcome all the temptations with which Satan assailed him, without receiving any wound in the conflict that might afterwards compel him to halt.

In short, there is no doubt that Christ, in uttering this exclamation upon the cross, clearly showed that although David here bewails his own distresses, this psalm was composed under the influence of the Spirit of prophecy concerning David’s King and Lord.