This is the Psalm we prayed at Mass last week, the Second Sunday of Easter. When we pray a psalm at Mass the difficult bits are taken out. We'll include them here. Why shouldn't we address them? If a given psalm doesn't reflect life in Christ, we should simply say that.
Verses 1-4: The families of Aaron and Israel are invited into the life of the psalm. Perhaps we're being invited to consider our own ancestral line. There are new companies that trace where we come from in history, following our DNA or blood line. But what about our long spiritual lineage. Perhaps it is a lineage of faith (even a faith that led to persecution), prayer, holy living, charity and justice. But perhaps mixed in that long family line going back hundreds upon hundreds of years, there is also the story of violence, mental illness, criminality, suicide, depression, addiction, even murder. And through it all, we're told four times in four verses that God's love is forever enduring. How wonderful is that.
Verses 5,6: The psalmist calls upon God in the time of distress. He declares that his prayer was answered and he was freed. Could that be some inner freedom: freedom from resentment, old nagging wounds, cynicism. Whatever it was, he calls God his helper. Do I have some healing of my own in mind?
Verse 7: "I shall look down on my foes." It doesn't sound very nice. Today, when we hear biblical lines like this we tend to come up with some spin, so it doesn't sound as bad as all that. Looking down on my foes isn't a Christian way. Pray for your enemies, Jesus says. It is admittedly a sometimes very difficult aspect of Christian discipleship. "Every priest has his detractors" a senior priest told me when I was new at this. And while I have found that to be true, even Padre Pio had enemies, I have found that I can wish everyone well.
Verses 8,9: People can fail us. We can fail ourselves. People can be un-reliable. I can be un-reliable. People can be disappointing. I have disappointed others at times. But I'm sure of this - God's love is sure.
Verses 10-12: The psalmist is surrounded by enemies. It was a dangerous world then, it's a dangerous world still. The word psalm means praises. But this book of one hundred and fifty psalms is often a series of complaints - whining really. Maybe the psalmist has no one else to whom he can vent all his troubles. But after all his complaining, even angry, vengeful complaining, the psalmist comes around and gives God the praise that is God's due. I remember the day I showed up for duty in my first priest-assignment. I was twenty-eight years old. The rectory was dirty, the pastor was intoxicated, the housekeeper was bossy, the secretary was angry. Talk about being "compassed about as with bees." I get it! My prayer was very earnest those days.
Verses 13-17: Can you tell this story for yourself - the story of your feeling as if you were going under, but heavenly help caught you. If even by the scruff of the neck? Remember the words of the 19th century Baptist hymn:
My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth's lamentations,
I hear the real, tho' far-off hymn
That hails a new creation;
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear its music ringing;
It sounds an echo in my soul-
how can I keep from singing
Although the tempest loudly roars,
I hear the truth, it liveth.
But though the darkness 'round me close,
Songs in the night it giveth.
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I'm clinging;
Since love is lord of heaven and earth,
How can I keep from singing?
Verse 18: As a boy I was taught that God's righteous punishment was always just around the corner. That threat was effective in getting us to behave. But it really isn't a very Christian way to live. God isn't small. God isn't petty - this idea or image of God sitting up there keeping records of slights and offenses against rules. Then if life's troubles are not divine punishment, what then? We live on a perilous planet, and increasingly so as we throw the planet into imbalance. When I was a young priest I was chaplain to a futuristic state hospital. Everything was trauma and specialty there. More than anything I came to realize that pain and suffering reveal a person's true character.
Verses 19-21: The psalmist asks for the gates of holiness; the Lord's own gate, to be opened. He undoubtedly is thinking of the gates to the beautiful Temple in Jerusalem. But there is a more important inner sanctuary, where I am alone with God, where God sees me as I was seen the moment of my birth, even in the moment God took for my imagining. Oh, believe it; it can change everything!
Verses 22-24: "The stone which the builders rejected has become the corner stone." Of course, Christians see this as an image of the rejected Jesus become the centerpiece of our lives. Then,"This day was made by the Lord; we rejoice and are glad." Why do we so often think there is some other day: a better day, a holier day, a more perfect day, a more fulfilling time. There is really only one day, isn't there? THIS day! TODAY is the day for living spiritually, which is the discovery of God's nearness and love, long before I ever had a thought to look up and see. The poor are often very good at living this way.
Verses 25-29: There is a procession here - everyone carrying palm branches, which are symbols of victory. The procession goes up to the temple altar. I'd venture most of the folks reading these reflective lines here are Mass-goers. So, what do I bring to the altar in my church? What inner gift of praise and gratitude to I carry the rejoicing way, up to the altar of God's goodness and enduring love?
My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth's lamentations,
I hear the real, tho' far-off hymn
That hails a new creation;
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear its music ringing;
It sounds an echo in my soul-
how can I keep from singing
Although the tempest loudly roars,
I hear the truth, it liveth.
But though the darkness 'round me close,
Songs in the night it giveth.
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I'm clinging;
Since love is lord of heaven and earth,
How can I keep from singing?
Verse 18: As a boy I was taught that God's righteous punishment was always just around the corner. That threat was effective in getting us to behave. But it really isn't a very Christian way to live. God isn't small. God isn't petty - this idea or image of God sitting up there keeping records of slights and offenses against rules. Then if life's troubles are not divine punishment, what then? We live on a perilous planet, and increasingly so as we throw the planet into imbalance. When I was a young priest I was chaplain to a futuristic state hospital. Everything was trauma and specialty there. More than anything I came to realize that pain and suffering reveal a person's true character.
Verses 19-21: The psalmist asks for the gates of holiness; the Lord's own gate, to be opened. He undoubtedly is thinking of the gates to the beautiful Temple in Jerusalem. But there is a more important inner sanctuary, where I am alone with God, where God sees me as I was seen the moment of my birth, even in the moment God took for my imagining. Oh, believe it; it can change everything!
Verses 22-24: "The stone which the builders rejected has become the corner stone." Of course, Christians see this as an image of the rejected Jesus become the centerpiece of our lives. Then,"This day was made by the Lord; we rejoice and are glad." Why do we so often think there is some other day: a better day, a holier day, a more perfect day, a more fulfilling time. There is really only one day, isn't there? THIS day! TODAY is the day for living spiritually, which is the discovery of God's nearness and love, long before I ever had a thought to look up and see. The poor are often very good at living this way.
Verses 25-29: There is a procession here - everyone carrying palm branches, which are symbols of victory. The procession goes up to the temple altar. I'd venture most of the folks reading these reflective lines here are Mass-goers. So, what do I bring to the altar in my church? What inner gift of praise and gratitude to I carry the rejoicing way, up to the altar of God's goodness and enduring love?
