It is noon.  Jesus has been on the cross for three pain-filled hours. Suddenly, darkness falls on Calvary and “over all the land” (Matthew 27:45).  By a miraculous act of Almighty God, midday becomes midnight.  The physical darkness points to the absence of light that normally comes from the face of God.   A deeper, more fearsome darkness descends as the Father turns his face away. The curse of God falls on Jesus with full force.

Up to this point, the narrative of the crucifixion has focused on the physical sufferings of Jesus: the flogging, the crown of thorns, and his immolation on the cross. Six hours have now passed since the nails were driven through Jesus’ hands and feet.  The crowds have jeered.  Darkness has covered the land.  And now, suddenly, after a long silence, comes this anguished cry from the depths of the Savior’s soul—“Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” That is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Matthew 27:46).

With that cry, Jesus identifies with the psalmist in Psalm 22.  He does this in order to call attention to those looking upon the spectacle that what they were witnessing was really a fulfillment of prophecy. His cry was not, as Albert Schweitzer insisted, the cry of a disillusioned prophet who had believed that God was going to rescue him at the eleventh hour and then felt forsaken. Jesus didn’t just feel forsaken; he was forsaken. For Jesus to become the curse, he had to be completely forsaken by the Father.

He cries out in Aramaic, but he doesn’t use the greatest and tenderest of all the Aramaic words, Abba, to
address God.  Even in the anguish of Gethsemane, distraught and overborne though he was, He had been able to address his Father as Abba. But not now. Like Abraham and Isaac going up to Mount Moriah, He and the Father had gone up to Calvary together. But now Abba is not there.  Only El (the generic word for God) is there.  Jesus is in the presence of El, not as His Beloved Son, but as the Sin of the World.

Now, Jesus’ mind is near the limits of its endurance.  But then, suddenly, it is over. The sacrifice is complete, the curtain torn, and the way into the Holy of Holies is opened to all.  And now Jesus’ joy finds expression in the words of another psalm, Psalm 31:5—“Into your hands I commit my spirit.”   In quoting this verse, Jesus
modifies the original rendering.  He inserts the word Abba, which “Father, into your hands I commit my
spirit” (Luke 23:46).

With the death of Jesus, the wrath of God is satisfied, and God can justify those who believe in Jesus.  Christ suffered on our behalf.  He did not simply share our forsakenness; He saved us from it.  The message of the cross is not merely that Christ understands what it feels like to be forsaken, so He can empathize with us when we feel abandoned.  The message of the cross is this:  By suffering the wrath of God that comes with the curse, we who believe in Him are exempt.  We are exempt from the curse.   We are exempt from the wrath of God.   Amazing. 
Absolutely amazing.