Now I speak very carefully, even
reverently, of what may have been the most difficult moment in all of this
solitary journey to atonement. I speak of those final moments for which Jesus
must have been prepared intellectually and physically but which He may not have
fully anticipated emotionally and spiritually—that concluding descent into the
paralyzing despair of divine withdrawal when He cries in ultimate loneliness,
“My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”
The loss of mortal support He had
anticipated, but apparently He had not comprehended this. Had
He not said to His disciples, “Behold, the hour … is now come, that ye shall be
scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone: and yet I am not
alone, because the Father is with me” and “The Father hath not left me alone;
for I do always those things that please him”?
With all the conviction of my
soul I testify that He did please His Father perfectly and
that a perfect Father did not forsake His Son in that hour.
Indeed, it is my personal belief that in all of Christ’s mortal ministry the
Father may never have been closer to His Son than in these agonizing final
moments of suffering. Nevertheless, that the supreme sacrifice of His Son might
be as complete as it was voluntary and solitary, the Father briefly
withdrew from Jesus the comfort of His Spirit, the support of His personal
presence. It was required, indeed it was central to the significance of the
Atonement, that this perfect Son who had never spoken ill nor done wrong nor
touched an unclean thing had to know how the rest of humankind—us, all of
us—would feel when we did commit such sins. For His Atonement to be infinite
and eternal, He had to feel what it was like to die not only physically but
spiritually, to sense what it was like to have the divine Spirit withdraw,
leaving one feeling totally, abjectly, hopelessly alone. (Jeffrey R. Holland, “None
Were with Him,” General Conference, May 2009)
