The Cry We All Know: A Holy Week Reflection by @ChineMcDonald I often burst into my children’s rooms when I hear them cry out following a night terror. Being comforted by our parents in the midst of pain or anguish describes a basic human need. Sociologist Peter L. Berger describes this moment of reconnection as a ‘signal of transcendence’. The soothing words ‘there, there… everything will be alright’, he says, point to an ultimate reality in which everything really will be alright: “The parental role is not based on a loving lie… it is a witness to the ultimate truth of man’s situation in reality.” Abandonment by a parent figure in these moments affects children’s development, sense of self and security. It’s a pain that is never forgotten. I heard this pain in Kriss Akabusi’s recent The Sacred interview, where he describes how – crying out for his mother in a children’s home – he realised she was not coming back and that he would need to fend for himself. It’s been said that in people’s dying moments, they cry out for their mother. Soldiers on battlefields do it, as did George Floyd in his final moments, despite his mother having died two years before. Jesus too feels a cosmic sense of abandonment on the cross. Though his mother Mary bears witness to his suffering, he cries out to his heavenly Father: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Echoing David’s lament in Psalm 22, this is not a gotcha moment which reveals Jesus is just a man who despairs because he thought he would escape death. It does however reveal Jesus’s humanity; his solidarity with all those who cry out and long to be comforted. In this most heart–wrenching of anguished moments, Jesus – just like us – longs to be close to the one who gave him life. The paradox is that it is precisely in this moment that we see God’s ultimate love for us, and hear God say: “everything will be alright”.