The Rest of the Story

I’m taking a detour. This morning during my progression through the Psalms (yep, I’m doing that in addition to Luke but not to worry--I won’t be including those each day!) I saw something that just floored me. 

All these years I have heard prophetic phrases quoted from the Old Testament that foreshadowed Christ’s life. Little bits here and there that Christ himself used to show his disciples that his life and his purpose were part of a plan God laid out long before, evidenced by the words of the prophets. But somehow it all seemed so academic. Until today.

This morning I read Psalm 22, the one that begins, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This verse is especially known to us because Jesus uttered this in his last dying moments on the cross.  All these years I thought he was just quoting anguished words that were--what?--near and dear to his heart? Words that would have been a sort of “Jewish-ese” of his own day? Spiritual code to fulfill a prophesy? 

So I began to read the psalm, expecting to hear David’s voice composing his thoughts and emotions for us to spiritually ponder with occasional prophetic words connecting us to Christ. The more I read, however, the more I could not see it as David’s words. David’s experience. When was every bone of David’s body pulled out of joint? When did David’s enemies surround him, piercing his hands and feet? When did they divide his clothing and cast lots for his garments? And where had I heard mockers sneer before, “He trusts the Lord--let him deliver him!”?

These words so exactly mirror Jesus’ death on the cross it goes well beyond some sort of coincidental spiritual hyperbole. For the first time I saw this song as something purely supernatural from beginning to end. David was penning Jesus’ words and thoughts from the cross not just in a few verses but in each and every one. But why?

I think the answer is at it’s end. It’s about “the rest of the story”. Those present that Friday as Jesus cried out “My God, my God...” would have recognized the source. For those who were heart-broken, terrified and horrified by his dying and suffering--a turn of events they couldn’t understand--his words would have connected them to David’s psalm. There was a message within it he wanted them to grasp. A light that would offer hope when all seemed dark and lost. 

Victory.

The end of the psalm ends in victory. The suffering servant gives way to a glorious ending, where “all the rich of the earth will feast and worship” (v.29) and where “they will proclaim his righteousness declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it!” (v.31). We are those “yet unborn” who now know what Jesus did that day. And 2,000 years ago one Friday, his words would have communicated “the rest of the story” to those who would have felt  so defeated.  

Funny thing is, David was never allowed to build the temple to God as he had hoped and dreamed. His sin got in the way. But in penning this psalm, God allowed him to take part in the final sacrifice that would forever end our need for a temple of stone and the blood of lambs. I wonder if David at the time, knew the entire significance of what he was writing? If not, he does now. And so do we.