Fourth Word on Cross

THE FOURTH WORD
My God! My God! Why hast Thou abandoned Me?

BLESSED ANNE CATHERINE EMMERICH
The Dolorous Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ
Stillness reigned around the Cross. Jesus hung upon it alone; forsaken by all—disciples, followers, friends, his Mother even was removed from his side; not one person of the thousands upon whom he had lavished benefits was near to offer him the slightest alleviation in his bitter agony—his soul was overspread with an indescribable feeling of bitterness and grief—all within him was dark, gloomy, and wretched. The darkness which reigned around was but symbolical of that which overspread his interior; he turned, nevertheless, to his Heavenly Father, he prayed for his enemies, he offered the chalice of his sufferings for their redemption, he continued to pray as he had done during the whole of his Passion, and repeated portions of those Psalms the prophecies of which were then receiving their accomplishment in him. I saw angels standing around. Again I looked at Jesus—my beloved Spouse—on his Cross, agonizing and dying, yet still in dreary solitude. He at that moment endured anguish which no mortal pen can describe,—he felt that suffering which would overwhelm a poor weak mortal if deprived at once of all consolation, both divine and human, and then compelled, without refreshment, assistance, or light, to traverse the stormy desert of tribulation upheld by faith, hope, and charity alone.

His sufferings were inexpressible; but it was by them that he merited for us the grace necessary to resist those temptations to despair which will assail us at the hour of death,—that tremendous hour when we shall feel that we are about to leave all that is dear to us here below. When our minds, weakened by disease, have lost the power of reasoning, and even our hopes of mercy and forgiveness are become, as it were, enveloped in mist and uncertainty,—then it is that we must fly to Jesus, unite our feelings of desolation with that indescribable dereliction, which he endured upon the Cross, and be certain of obtaining a glorious victory over our infernal enemies.

Jesus then offered to his Eternal Father his poverty, his dereliction, his labours, and, above all, the bitter sufferings which our ingratitude had caused him to endure in expiation for our sins and weaknesses; no one, therefore, who is united to Jesus in the bosom of his Church must despair at the awful moment preceding his exit from this life, even if he be deprived of all sensible light and comfort; for he must then remember that the Christian is no longer obliged to enter this dark desert alone and unprotected, as Jesus has cast his own interior and exterior dereliction on the Cross into this gulf of desolation; consequently he will not be left to cope alone with death, or be suffered to leave this world in desolation of spirit, deprived of heavenly consolation.

All fear of loneliness and despair in death must therefore be cast away; for Jesus, who is our true light, the Way, the Truth, and the Life, has preceded us on that dreary road, has overspread it with blessings, and raised his Cross upon it, one glance at which will calm our every fear.

Jesus then (if we may so express ourselves) made his last testament in the presence of his Father, and bequeathed the merits of his Death and Passion to the Church and to sinners. Not one erring soul was forgotten; he thought of each and every one; praying, likewise, even for those heretics who have endeavoured to prove that, being God, he did not suffer as a man would have suffered in his place. The cry which he allowed to pass his lips in the height of his agony was intended not only to show the excess of the sufferings he was then enduring, but likewise to encourage all afflicted souls who acknowledge God as their Father to lay their sorrows with filial confidence at his feet.

It was towards three o'clock when he cried out in a loud voice, 'Eloi, Eloi, lamma sabacthani?"My God, my God, why host thou forsaken me?' These words of our Lord interrupted the dead silence which had continued for so long; the Pharisees turned towards him, and one of them said, 'Behold, he calleth Elias;' and another, 'Let us see whether Elias will come to deliver him.' When Mary heard the voice of her divine Son, she Was unable to restrain herself any longer, but rushed forwards, and returned to the foot of the Cross, followed by John, Mary he daughter of Cleophas, Mary Magdalen, and Salome.

A troop of about thirty horsemen from Judaea and the environs of Joppa, who were on their way to Jerusalem for the festival, passed by just at the time when all was silent round the Cross, both assistants and spectators being transfixed with terror and apprehension. When they beheld Jesus hanging on the Cross, saw the cruelty with which he had been treated, and remarked the extraordinary signs of God's wrath which overspread the face of nature, they were filled with horror, and exclaimed, `If the Temple of God were not in Jerusalem, the city should be burned to the ground for having taken upon itself so fearful a crime.' These words from the lips of strangers—strangers too who bore the appearance of persons of rank—made a great impression on the bystanders, and loud murmurs and exclamations of grief were heard on all sides; some individuals gathered together in groups, more freely to indulge their sorrow, although a certain portion of the crowd continued to blaspheme and revile all around them.

VENERABLE MARY OF AGREDA
The Mystical City of God
The fourth word of Christ was addressed to the eternal Father: “God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” The evil spirits discovered in these words that the charity of God toward men was boundless and everlasting; that, in order to satisfy it, He had mysteriously suspended the influence of the Divinity over his most sacred humanity, thus permitting his sufferings to reach the highest degree and drawing from them the most abundant fruits; that He was aware and lovingly complained of his being deprived of the salvation of a part of the human race; how ready He was to suffer more, if such would be ordained by the eternal Father. Man’s good fortune in being so beloved by God increased the envy of Lucifer and his demons, and they foresaw the divine Omnipotence following out this immense love without limitation. This knowledge crushed the haughty malice of the enemies and they were made well aware of their own weakness and helplessness in opposing this love, if men themselves should not choose to neglect its influence.

MEDITATION

On the Cross
Of the seven words of Christ on the Cross, the first three were said in the early part of the afternoon. The last four words were uttered shortly before His death about 3 o'clock. For the greater part of His time on the Cross, no words of Christ are recorded by the Gospel writers. Was there silence during these hours? Did Our Lord, perhaps, pray inaudibly or in a low voice that could not be distinguished as He hung there suspended between heaven and earth?

It is thought that He prayed in the words of the Psalms that referred to His sufferings and death. The fourth word, in fact, is taken verbatim from Psalm 21 (22), being its opening verse. This Psalm was written by David and is a remarkable prophecy of the Redeemer.

A Mysterious Darkness
From the sixth to the ninth hour, that is, from noon until 3 o'clock, there was darkness over the whole land. When the Son of God was dying, the very elements went into mourning. This strange midday darkness was noticed also by at least two writers other than the Evangelists. St. Denis experienced this phenomenon in Heliopolis, a city of Egypt. And a Greek writer and historian, Phlegon, says that in the fourth year of the 202nd Olympiad there took place a greater and more extraordinary eclipse than had ever happened before, "for at the sixth hour the light of day was changed into the darkness of night, so that the stars appeared in the heavens."

The darkness evidently extended not only over Palestine but at least for some hundreds of miles farther. It was a strange darkness, not caused by an ordinary eclipse. The moon at the time was full, and a full eclipse can occur only at the new moon. But, even if this were an eclipse of the sun by the moon, it would have caused darkness only for a few minutes, not for three hours. We do not know the exact physical causes of the obscuring of the sun on Good Friday. God, who made nature, could certainly have created various conditions to keep back the sun's light during the agony of His Son on Calvary.

Enemies Did Not Repent
One might think that this mystifying darkness would make the enemies of Christ quake in fear and repent. Perhaps they were fearful, but they did not repent. They stifled their fear and hardened their hearts still further. They had not been convinced by the good life, the strong words, the miracles of Christ; so neither would this new sign convince them.

There is a terrible lesson here for all who would trample down the pangs of conscience. Start out on this course, and as time goes on there is no limit to the evil one can do and forget about. The human heart, when it is determined and directed deliberately into the way of evil, grows harder and harder. Blindness of mind keeps growing and growing, until only a miracle of God's grace can penetrate it.

Darkness Within
The darkness of night covered the land, a mysterious, unexplained darkness. In the soul of Him who suffered on the Cross there was an even more mysterious darkness. He was both God and man, yet the desolation of His spirit made Him cry out: "My God, my God, why bast thou forsaken me?" These words were spoken in Aramaic, the dialect of the people in that region. They were not spoken in an ordinary voice or whispered. Christ cried out in a loud voice.

Some of those who were standing by thought that He was calling on Elias, the prophet who had been taken up alive into Heaven. They said: "This man calleth Elias." Somebody in the crowd, perhaps moved to pity at this great cry of anguish, offered Him a sponge soaked in vinegar, extending it on a reed. But the others kept their old attitude of mockery and said: "Let be, let us see whether Elias will come to deliver him." (Matt. 27:49). Here again we can see the extent of the cruelty and the degree of hardness of which the human heart is capable as shown by those around the Cross. After witnessing His suffering for all this time, the majority of those present could only offer a sneering remark—even to a dying man's heart-rending cry.

The Inner Darkness More Mysterious
The words of desolation of Christ on the Cross are the most difficult of all to understand. They are hard to understand because of the union of the humanity of Christ with His Divinity. How was it possible for Him who is God to feel Himself abandoned by God? According to some of the Saints who commented on this, the desolation of Christ, His feeling of abandonment, was the severest of all His sufferings. Although His words are certainly not words of despair, they are words that indicate the intensity of the entire ordeal through which the Saviour was going. He was just as Divine as ever, but His poor humanity was permitted to sink to the lowest depths of interior suffering.

In years to come, the martyrs would at times be so filled with joy during their tortures that their happiness shone through their faces. But it was not so with the Son of God. All feeling of support from His Father was withdrawn. His human feeling was so terrible that it brought forth the question: "Why hast thou forsaken me?"

Here on the Cross was Christ, rejected by the people of His own nation, forsaken by many of His closest friends. His body was one burning pain, one large agony. In His soul was overwhelming sorrow for the sins of the whole world. All these things crushed Him, weighed Him down. Yet added to this was the final, heavy, unbearable feeling of complete aloneness and abandonment.

All Doubt Removed
Perhaps we might have some doubt about the sufferings of Our Lord if He had not been reduced to the misery that brought forth His words of desolation. We might have imagined that the severity of His pains was nullified by the strength and joy that came from the union of His human nature with the Divine Nature. We might be tempted to think, "Maybe these sufferings were not nearly so hard for Him to bear as they would be for an ordinary person. After all, He was God." But once we have heard and pondered over the fourth word from the Cross, we know that what Christ endured was not any easier because He was also God. He went the whole way; He stopped at nothing in drinking to its dregs the bitter cup of complete suffering of body and soul.

His Desolation Is Our Consolation
In undergoing this desolation and in letting us know about it, Our Lord has provided great consolation for all who must suffer, and especially for all who feel discouraged and forsaken. Any person who has much to endure and perhaps feels enveloped by the darkness of despondency, who feels completely alone in his pain, can always think of Jesus on the Cross and His cry of abandonment. As long as faith endures, those words of Our Lord will bring consolation.

Discouragement
There is an old story about a boy who started out carrying a young calf a certain distance each day. He kept at this, and as the calf grew, he was able to keep carrying it because he himself was growing stronger. But finally the day came when he could no longer lift the animal. It was just too heavy.

Sickness or any trouble that lasts a long time is like a calf that keeps growing. We can put up with it for a day, for a week, or for a few weeks, but finally the time often comes when it appears to be too heavy to bear. In reality, the sickness or trou
ble may not be any worse, but the heaviness of discouragement is upon it, and that is what makes it seem so impossible to bear. This discouragement is actually worse than the malady itself.

A Great Enemy
Discouragement is the great enemy of the human spirit. Despondency is the great enemy of souls. If we can speak of the devil being happy, he is "happy" when people give in to the complete unhappiness of discouragement and despondency. Our Lord on the Cross knew this, so He let us know that He too had to fight to the last ounce of His human endurance to preserve courage and strength of spirit. He let us know this, that we might turn to Him and find the courage we need in our severest difficulties.

United with Christ for Courage
Many people who are chronically ill have found strength and even joy in suffering because they suffer in union with Christ. There are in the United States at least two societies with nationwide membership of sick people united with one another and with Christ in offering up their sufferings. The members of these organizations are not all flat on their backs. Some are invalids, some semi-invalids whose activities are limited by disease or weakness. All have one thing in common: their illnesses are chronic. They have the long, hard pull against discouragement. By offering up their sufferings for the conversion of sinners, for peace, for the needs of others and for personal sanctification, a great amount of good is done. At the same time, by union with Our Lord in mind and heart, the enemies of despair and despondency are kept at a distance.

The Despondency of Sameness
Discouragement, however, is not reserved for those with chronic sickness or extraordinary troubles of some other kind. The wear and tear of everyday life can weaken a person's inner spirit. In a popular song, the poor fellow who digs sixteen tons of coal a day must evidently be healthy to do so much strenuous work. But he sings a dirge of forlornness; he feels that he has "sold his soul to the company store," for all he can do is work and then spend his money to pay for the necessities of life. There are many who feel that they keep working and working and do not get anywhere. Then when some small additional trouble comes up, it can become the proverbial "straw that breaks the camel's back" and may result in complete despondency.

Spiritual Aridity
There is a special kind of discouragement that plagues the person who is trying hard to lead a good spiritual life. His prayers may seem never to have anything in them. They are like an old record. There is no sweetness, no sensible consolation. They seem like just so many words, almost without meaning. God hardly seems real any more. He is at a distance, not close. A person who feels this way must remember that he is no more abandoned by God than was Christ on the Cross.
The feeling of God's nearness and the enjoyment of our prayers to Him have nothing to do with reality, nor with the value of the prayers. Some food that is tasteless or even bitter may be far better for us than that which delights the sense of taste. In the same way, prayer may be tasteless or even burdensome and yet may be of more value than that which is sweet and consoling. God never actually abandons us, but He may allow us to feel that way, even as God the Son Himself felt abandoned on Calvary.

In the lives of many Saints, we find that they were at times completely without consolation in their prayers. St. John of the Cross even uses the expression "The Dark Night of the Soul" to describe the condition of very holy and chosen souls whom God allows to feel absolutely cut off from Himself. St. Therese, the Little Flower, tells us in her autobiography that during most of her life she felt very dry in her prayers. St. Margaret of Cortona at one time felt so much fear and despair that she would not receive Holy Communion until commanded by her confessor. Some Saints have felt so completely cut off from God that they imagined they would surely lose their souls. This they felt despite leading lives of heroic self-denial and prayer.

But the Saints and all holy people understand the lesson of Our Lord's cry of abandonment from the Cross. If Christ in the very act of accomplishing mankind's redemption felt forsaken, why should not they sometimes feel cut off from God, despite their good works and prayers?

Dryness Teaches Us: Seek God for His Sake
In the early years of our life, or if we have been converts, perhaps in the early years of conversion, God gives us the grace of much joy in prayer and in the reception of the Sacraments. We feel so much better after going to Confession and receiving Communion. But as time goes on, this sweetness and consolation disappear. At such a time we should not give up or succumb to the thought that our good practices and works are useless. They are every bit as good as before. They may be and most likely are of even more value, for we can be sure that now we seek God for His own sake and not for the sake of the pleasure in it that there may be for ourselves.

An Uphill Battle
Our age is an age that wants quick results. Whatever is done—building a home or church, getting an education, learning a trade—must be done as swiftly as possible. We may carry this spirit over into our relations with God. We would like to establish satisfying relations rapidly with Him, save our souls with a few efforts, and then coast on. But things do not work that way. Saving one's soul is an uphill battle. Our perseverance may be tried and tested in many ways, even to feeling cut off from God Himself

If this happens, or whatever happens to discourage us, we must never give up.

Our age is also an age of sentimentality. Religion is made a matter of feeling good about God and all that pertains to Him. It is taken for granted that God will fill with consolation those who try to do His Will. But this is not always the case. In practicing our religion, we must remember Calvary and the desolation of Christ on the Cross. God may try our souls to their depths. We must remember the great truth that though we may feel forsaken by God, we are never actually forsaken. The Saviour Himself felt forsaken by God, leading Him to cry out those mysterious words: "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" But God is close to us, even as He was to Christ.

PRAYER

Jesus! You are now atoning for those moments when we are neither hot nor cold, members neither of heaven nor of earth, for now You are suffering between the two: rejected by the one, abandoned by the other. Because You would not give up sinful humanity, Your Heavenly Father hid His Face from You. Because You would not give up Your Heavenly Father, sinful humanity turned its back on You, and thus in holy fellowship You found a way to unite us both. No longer can anyone say that God does not know what a heart suffers in abandonment, for now You are abandoned. No longer can anyone complain that God does not know the wounds of an inquiring heart which feels not the Divine Presence, for now that sweet Presence is seemingly hid from You as well. Jesus, now I understand pain, abandonment, and suffering, for I see that even the sun has its eclipse.

But Jesus, why do I not learn? Teach me that just as You did not make Your own Cross, neither shall I make my own. Teach me to accept the one that You have made for me. Teach me that everything in the world is Yours, except one thing, and that is my own will; and since that is mine, it is the only real and true gift that I can ever bestow. Teach me to say, "Not my will, but Yours be done, 0 Lord." Even when I see You not, grant me the grace to believe and "although You slay me, yet will I trust You." Tell me, how long, how long, O Lord, will I keep You writhing on the Cross?