But I’m excited to share that there are answers to all my questions through the Bible!
I would like to include two separate comments for your consideration: 1) a brief comment on Jesus' speaking the first line of Psalm 22 while He was on the cross, and 2) a cut / paste narrative from within my commentary on the Book of Daniel for 9:24:
Part 1
Psalm 22
Psalm 22 is widely understood as a Messianic psalm because it describes, in remarkable detail, the suffering and ultimate vindication of the Messiah. What is especially significant is that Jesus quotes the opening line of this psalm on the cross— “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?”
He is not expressing despair without purpose. By speaking the first line, He is intentionally pointing His listeners back to the entire psalm. In the Jewish context, quoting the opening words would bring the whole passage to mind. And Psalm 22 does not end in defeat—it moves from suffering to deliverance and ultimately to victory and proclamation to the nations.
So in that moment, Jesus is doing more than describing His suffering. He is identifying Himself as the One spoken of in the psalm and revealing that what is happening before their eyes is the fulfillment of Scripture.
Daniel 9:24 (partial) To Bring in Everlasting Righteousness
Reconciliation, however, is not the final goal. God does not merely bring us back to neutral. He restores what the Fall stole: righteousness itself—life in harmony with His holiness. That is why Gabriel’s next words rise higher than forgiveness. “To bring in everlasting righteousness” is the climax of the sequence: the Messiah not only deals with sin; He returns righteousness to humanity through His own perfect life, His atoning death, and His indwelling Spirit.
In Daniel 9:24, God names transgression, sin, and iniquity—three expressions of humanity’s fallen condition, each describing a different depth of rupture with Him. They are not merely poetic variations. Together they trace the unraveling of righteousness that began with Adam. When Adam disobeyed, humanity was driven from the Garden—not only as a change of location, but as a spiritual severing from God’s presence. What was lost in that moment was greater than a home.
Righteousness itself was lost: the harmony of a life in union with God, the holiness of an undivided heart, and the divine life God had breathed into humanity at the beginning. Since that loss, no human effort—no system, ideology, or moral code—has been able to restore what was forfeited.
Human beings have always tried to define righteousness through human lenses. Societies often reduce it to moral decency—fairness, kindness, or living by some form of the golden rule. Such virtues can be admirable, but they fall short of God’s standard. Biblical righteousness is not merely being “good” by earthly measurement; it is being in complete harmony with God’s holiness, will, and character. It is not a cultural ideal. It is God’s own life and likeness expressed in the human soul.
That is why Scripture can say,
“All our righteous acts are like filthy rags” (Isaiah 64:6). Even our best intentions are mingled with pride, self-interest, and imperfection. Human morality is relative and fluctuates across cultures and time. God’s righteousness is absolute, eternal, and rooted in His unchanging nature. And this is why Paul can declare the universal verdict:
“There is none righteous, no, not one” (Romans 3:10).
The fall produced spiritual death—separation from God that no amount of effort can undo. Sacrifices, rituals, religious zeal, and moral striving can expose the need for righteousness, but they cannot manufacture it. What humanity needed was not more instruction, but intervention. Not more law, but life. Not moral improvement, but spiritual rebirth.
This is why God’s plan always pointed to the Messiah. Jesus did not come merely to teach righteousness as an ideal; He came as righteousness incarnate. He lived in perfect alignment with the Father. In His life we see what righteousness truly is. In His death, sin is atoned for. And in His resurrection, the way back to what Adam lost is opened—not by human climbing, but by divine gift.
At the cross, an exchange took place that is almost beyond comprehension:
“He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him” (2 Corinthians 5:21). This is the power of the gospel. Righteousness is not earned; it is received. It is not a reward for obedience, but the gift of grace. The righteousness of Christ is credited to those who place their faith in Him, so that God no longer regards the believer through the lens of sin, but through the perfect obedience of His Son.