Concordia Psalter

Psalm                                     Psalm 22:1–21

1My God, my God, why have you for- | saken me?*
    Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my | groaning?
2O my God, I cry by day, but you do not | answer,*
    and by night, but I | find no rest.

3Yet you are | holy,*
    enthroned on the praises of | Israel.
4In you our fathers | trusted;*
    they trusted, and you de- | livered them.
5To you they cried and were | rescued;*
    in you they trusted and were not | put to shame.

6But I am a worm and | not a man,*
    scorned by mankind and despised by the | people.
7All who see me | mock me;*
    they make mouths at me; they | wag their heads;
8“He trusts in the Lord; let him de- | liver him;*
    let him rescue him, for he de- | lights in him!”

9Yet you are he who took me | from the womb;*
    you made me trust you at my | mother’s breasts.
10On you was I cast | from my birth,*
    and from my mother’s womb you have | been my God.
11Be not far from me,
    for trouble | is near,*
    and there is | none to help.

12Many bulls en- | compass me;*
    strong bulls of Bashan sur- | round me;
13they open wide their | mouths at me,*
    like a ravening and roaring | lion.

14I am poured out like water,
    and all my bones are | out of joint;*
my heart is like wax;
    it is melted with- | in my breast;
15my strength is dried up like a potsherd,
    and my tongue sticks | to my jaws;*
    you lay me in the | dust of death.

16For dogs en- | compass me;*
    a company of evildoers encircles me;
they have pierced my | hands and feet—
17I can count | all my bones—*
they stare and gloat | over me;
18they divide my garments a- | mong them,*
    and for my clothing they | cast lots.

19But you, O Lord, do not be | far off!*
    O you my help, come quickly | to my aid!
20Deliver my soul | from the sword,*
    my precious life from the power | of the dog!
    21Save me from the mouth of the | lion!*
You have rescued me from the horns of the wild | oxen!

PRAYER

Lord Jesus, Lamb of the Father’s own choosing, who offered Yourself a bloody sacrifice for our sins on the Place of Skulls, receive our thanks for Your love beyond measure. Let Your wounds be the solace of our hearts, and Your merits the ornaments of our souls in life and death, that with Your perfected saints on high, we may forever sing Your praise. Amen.