Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer.
From the end of the earth I call to you,
when my heart is faint.
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I;
for you are my refuge, a strong tower against the
enemy.
Let me abide in your tent forever,
find refuge under the shelter of your wings.
For you, O God, have heard my vows;
you have given me the heritage of those who fear your
name.
Prolong the life of the king;
may his years endure to all generations!
May he be enthroned forever before God;
appoint steadfast love and faithfulness to watch over
him!
So I will always sing praises to your name,
as I pay my vows day after day.
Psalm 61
Reflection – A friend and neighbor of
mine who is an avid reader of the blog, and particularly of this running series
on the psalms, pointed out to me that my commentary on the ‘gloomy 50s’ has
missed an important beat.
Namely, that the cry of the psalmist in
distress has to be understood as principally (in our Christian reading of it)
to refer to the cry of Christ, to the sufferings of Jesus on behalf of all
humanity. That while the original and immediate occasion of these psalms’
composition was the suffering of the psalmists’ own lives, now we hear the
voice of God Himself, made man in Jesus, in them.
Well, this is profound stuff. And we see
the depth of it in the very first line of this psalm: ‘From the end of the
earth I call to you’. How can a single individual be crying ‘from the end of
the earth’? This implies something bigger than the sufferings of one man. And
indeed the Church has read this psalm as referring to Christ, and because of
Christ, of His Body on earth, the Church—an expression of the whole Church,
which is Christ and is also redeemed humanity, crying out to God.
And in this psalm the cry of distress
immediately yields to expressions of intimacy, trust, confidence. This whole
business of ‘refuge’ looms large here. And we need to take this to heart, don’t
we? Sometimes we can get a bit silly about this notion of seeking refuge, as if
strong independent mature adult Christians shouldn’t be looking for such
things.
We have to live in the real world! We
can’t retreat into our safe space! Down with refuge! Up with going out there
and being with the people! And so on and so forth. All of which is fine enough,
so long as we know that God Himself has provided us with a refuge, and that in
fact we do need said refuge, and it is no part of a real adult faith to eschew
it.
That refuge is the Church Herself, but
within that refuge we find ourselves delivered into the real refuge which is the
Heart of Jesus. His merciful love which carves out for us on earth the only
‘safe space’ we need, and out of which safe space we can indeed traverse the
rough waters and fiery passages of life in this world.
Psalm 61 is a really mystical psalm—after
this expression of confidence and trust in God Our Refuge, there is all this
business of the king and his long life. Again, in the original composition,
this would be the actual king in Jerusalem; for us, it is again Christ and His
enduring life on earth in the life of the Church.
There are fundamental matters here of
good spiritual order, good spiritual foundation and grounding. We live in a
world that seems to us to be a dangerous place. Fear and anger are the common
lot of the day. Those of us who are Catholic Christians need to safeguard our
communion with Christ, with His Church, and from this with one another, to
weather the storms of the world as it is.
Ah - Fr. Denis, you have brought this meditation into a most beautiful place. Beloved John Paul II describes "Mercy as the view from God's heart" and when refuge is found in the living God, we cannot help but take on that view. Catherine's line from the Little Mandate - "Go without fear into the depths of men's hearts" - is no longer a challenge or even a command but rather an invitation to meet a most merciful God. We can go with mercy, not my own little pittance of mercy but rather, with the mercy of God. Enough work for the span of a man's life and, indeed, it is pressed down and overflowing.
ReplyDeleteBless you and the family you live with.
Kindest regards - John Lynch.