But since the divine nature was united to the human, how is it possible that it was so oppressed and weakened as to break forth in such exclamations of anguish; and especially so when there were martyrs who were far more bold and courageous? The cause of this arises from the difference which there was in the punishment which Christ endured and that of martyrs. St. Lawrence, lying on the gridiron, did not experience the dreadful wrath of God, either against his own, or against the sins of the human race, the entire punishment of which was inflicted upon the Son of God, as Isaiah saith, he was stricken, and smitten of God for our sins: We say, then, that St. Lawrence did not feel the anger of an offended God piercing and wounding him; but felt that God was reconciled, and at peace with him; neither did he experience the horrors of death and hell as Christ did, but he had great consolation, because he suffered on account of confessing the gospel, and was assured that his sins were remitted by and for the sake of the Son of God, upon whom they were laid, according to what is said, "Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world." (John 1:29.) Hence it is easy to be accounted for, why St. Lawrence seemed to have more courage and presence of mind in his martyrdom, than Christ in his passion; and hence it is also that the human nature of Christ, although united to the Godhead, was made to sweat drops of blood in the garden, and to give vent to the mournful lamentation, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" [Ps 22:1; Matt 27:46; Mark 15:34] Not that there was any separation between the natures in Christ; but because the humanity was for a time forsaken by the Divinity, the Word being at rest, or quiet, (as Irenaeus saith) and not bringing aid and deliverance to the afflicted humanity until a passion altogether sufficient might be endured and finished.
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Objection 2. There must be a proportion between the satisfaction and the crime. But there is no proper proportion, between the sufferings of one man, and the sins of an infinite number of men. How, therefore, can the ransom which Christ alone paid, correspond with the sins of a vast number of men? Answer. It can, for these two causes: First, on account of the dignity of his person; and secondly, on account of the greatness of the punishment which he endured; for he suffered that which we were bound to suffer to all eternity. His passion, therefore, is equivalent to everlasting punishment, yea it exceeds it; because, that God should suffer, is more than that all creatures should perish. This was the greatest miracle, that the Son of God should cry out, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me." [Ps 22:1; Matt 27:46; Mark 15:34]
Reply 1. God cannot suffer and die. Christ suffered and died. Therefore, he is not God. Answer. We reply to the major proposition—God, that is, the person which is only God, cannot suffer, or is impassible, according to that in respect to which he is God. But Christ is not only God, but also man. Or we may concede the whole argument, if it be rightly understood; for Christ is not God, in respect to that in which he suffered and died, that is, in respect to his human nature.
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Objection. But if there was no such separation between the natures of Christ, why did he exclaim, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" [Ps 22:1; Matt 27:46; Mark 15:34] Answer. This cry was extorted from the suffering Son of God, not on account of any separation of the two natures, but on account of the delay of help and assistance: for the two natures in Christ ought not to be disjoined, because it is written, God hath purchased the church with his own blood." (Acts 20:28.) And it was necessary that he, who would die for our sins, should be the Son of God, that there might thus be a sufficient ransom. So it is also clearly manifest, that the union of the natures in Christ is no ubiquity: for his soul, being separated from his body, was not in the sepulchre with his body, and consequently not everywhere; because that which is everywhere can never be separated. And yet the union of the natures remained complete even in death, and in the grave.