Psalm 22

My God, my God, O why have you

Forsaken and abandoned me?

Why are you far from giving help,

From listening to my anguished plea?

My God, I cry to you by day;

You do not hear when I complain.

I call to you throughout the night;

In silence I cannot remain.

Yet you are holy: on the praise

Of Israèl you are enthroned.

In you our fathers put their trust;

They trusted, and were not disowned.

They called, and you delivered them;

You listened to them when they cried.

Our fathers were not put to shame,

Because on you they had relied.

But I’m a worm and not a man,

By people scorned, reproached by all.

And those who see me shake their heads;

They sneer at me, and thus they call:

“This man has trusted in the LORD,

So let him save him from his plight.

Now let his God deliver him,

Because in him he takes delight.”

Yet you, LORD, brought me from the womb;

When I was at my mother’s breast

You gave me cause to trust in you.

From birth upon you I was cast.

Yes, from my mother’s womb till now,

O LORD, you are my God alone.

Be not far off, for trouble’s near,

And other helper I have none.

Strong bulls of Bashan circle me,

Wild bulls approach on every side.

As roaring lions tear their prey,

At me their mouths they open wide.

Like water I am emptied out,

And all my bones are torn apart;

My inmost being melts away,

And into wax is turned my heart.

My strength is dried like shattered clay,

And, as I fight to draw my breath,

My tongue is sticking to my jaws;

You lay me in the dust of death.

A pack of dogs encloses me;

Their circle round me is complete.

I am beset by evil men

And they have pierced my hands and feet.

I count the number of my bones;

With gloating eyes the people stare.

They throw the dice to get my coat;

Among themselves my clothes they share.

Come quickly, rescue me, my Strength;

Do not be far from me, O LORD.

Save me from power of evil dogs,

My precious life from cruel sword.

From menace of the lions’ mouths

And from their fury set me free.

From peril of wild oxen’s horns

You heard my cry and rescued me.

Now to my brothers I’ll declare

The praises of your glorious name;

Within their gathering I will stand

And your renown I will proclaim.

Praise him, all you that fear the LORD;

Give honour to him, Jacob’s race.

All Isr’el’s children, worship him;

Bow down with awe before his face.

He has not scorned the suffering

Which on the afflicted one is laid;

He did not hide his face from him,

But listened to his cry for aid.

You are the theme of all my praise

Within the great assembly, LORD;

Before all those who fear your name

I will fulfil my solemn word.

The poor will eat and will be filled

And those who seek the LORD will give

A shout of joyful praise to him.

O may your hearts for ever live!

The whole earth will remember him

And turn towards the LORD their God.

All peoples will bow down to him—

The nations of the world abroad.

Dominion to the LORD belongs

And over nations he is king.

The rich of all the earth will feast

And worship with an offering.

All those whose destiny is dust

Will humbly kneel before his throne;

They cannot keep themselves alive,

For they depend on him alone.

Posterity will serve the LORD;

And generations still to come

Will tell a people yet unborn

The righteous acts that he has done.