WEEK 1: SUNDAY EVENING PRAYER I

Psalm 140

Prayer in time of danger vv. 1-9

Ihavecalled to you, Lord; hasten to help me! Hear my voice when I cry to you. Let my prayer arise before you like incense, the raising of my hands like an evening oblation.

Set, O Lord, a guard over my mouth; keep watch, O Lord, at the door of my lips! Do not turn my heart to things that are wrong, to evil deeds with men who are sinners.

Never allow me to share in their feasting. If a good man strikes or reproves me it is kindness; but let the oil of the wicked not anoint my head. Let my prayer be ever against their malice.

Their princes were thrown down by the side of the rock: then they understood that my words were kind. As a millstone is shattered to pieces on the ground, so their bones were strewn at the mouth of the grave.

To you, Lord God, my eyes are turned: in you I take refuge; spare my soul!

From the trap they have laid for me keep me safe: keep me from the snares of those who do evil.

Commentary by Pope St John Paul II

1. In previous catecheses, we gave an overall look at the structure and value of the Liturgy of Vespers, the great ecclesiastical prayer of the evening. We now journey into its interior. It will be like making a pilgrimage to that “holy land” made up of the Psalms and Canticles. One by one we will reflect on each of those poetic prayers, which God has sealed with his inspiration. They are invocations which the Lord himself desires should be addressed to him, for he loves to listen to them, hearing in them the heartbeat of his beloved children.

Let us begin with Psalm 140 [141], which opens Sunday Vespers of the first of the four weeks when, following the Second Vatican Council, the evening prayer of the Church was adopted.

2. “Let my prayer come like incense before you; the lifting up of my hands, like the evening sacrifice”. Verse two of this Psalm can be considered as the distinctive sign of the entire hymn and as the apparent justification of the fact that it has been included in the Liturgy of Vespers. The idea expressed reflects the spirit of prophetic theology that intimately unites worship with life, prayer with existence.

The same prayer made with a pure and sincere heart becomes a sacrifice offered to God. The entire being of the person who prays becomes a sacrificial act, a prelude to what St Paul would suggest when he invited Christians to offer their bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God: this is the spiritual sacrifice acceptable to him (cf. Rom 12:1).

Hands raised in prayer are a bridge to communication with God, as is the smoke that rises as sweet odour from the victim during the sacrificial rite of the evening.

3. The Psalm continues in a tone of supplication, transmitted to us by a text which in the original Hebrew is unclear and presents certain interpretative difficulties (especially in vv. 4-7).

The general sense may, however, be identified and transformed into meditation and prayer. Above all else, the person praying calls upon the Lord that he not permit his lips (cf. v. 3) and the motions of his heart to be attracted and enticed by evil, thus inclining him to commit “wicked deeds” (cf. v. 4). In fact, a person’s words and actions express his or her moral choice. Evil exercises such an attraction that it easily provokes even the faithful to taste “the delights” that sinners can offer, sitting down at their table; that is, taking part in their perverse actions.

The Psalm even acquires the character of an examination of conscience, which is followed by the commitment always to choose the ways of God.

4. At this point, however, the person praying starts by bursting out with a passionate declaration that he will not associate with the evildoer; he will not be a guest of the sinner, nor let the fragrant oil that is reserved for privileged guests (cf. Ps 22 [23]:5) bear witness to his connivance with the evildoer (cf. Ps 140 [141]:5). To express his downright disassociation from the wicked with greater vehemence, the Psalmist then declares an indignant condemnation in his regard, in vivid images of vehement judgment.

It is one of the typical imprecations of the Psalter (cf. Ps 57 [58] and 108 [109]), whose purpose is to affirm, in a realistic and even picturesque way, hostility towards evil, the choice of good and the certainty that God intervenes in history with his judgment of severe condemnation of injustice (cf. vv. 6-7).

5. The Psalm closes with a final invocation of trust (cf. vv. 8-9): it is a hymn of faith, thankfulness and joy in the certainty that the faithful one will not be engulfed by the hatred that the perverse reserve for him and will not fall into the trap they set for him, after having noted his firm choice to do what is right. In this way, the righteous person is able to surmount every deceit unscathed, as it is said in another Psalm: “We were rescued like a bird from the fowler’s snare; broken was the snare, and we were freed” (Ps 123 [124]:7).

Let us end our reading of Psalm 140 [141] by returning to the first image: that of evening prayer as a sacrifice pleasing to God. John Cassian, a great spiritual master and native of the East, who lived between the fourth and fifth centuries and spent the last part of his life in Southern Gaul, re-read these words in a Christological vein: “Indeed, in them, one perceives an allusion made to the evening sacrifice in a more spiritual way, brought to fulfilment by the Lord and Saviour during his Last Supper and consigned to the Apostles when he sanctioned the beginning of the Church’s holy mysteries. Or (might one perceive an allusion) to that same sacrifice that he offered of himself the following day in the evening, with the raising of his own hands: a sacrifice prolonged until the end of time for the salvation of the whole world” (cf. Le Istituzioni Cenobitiche, Abbey of Praglia, Padua 1989, p. 92).

Psalm 141 while my spirit faints within me. But you, O Lord, know my path.

On the way where I shall walk they have hidden a snare to entrap me. Look on my right and see: there is no one who takes my part. I have no means of escape, not one who cares for my soul.

I cry to you, O Lord. I have said: “You are my refuge, all I have left in the land of the living.”

Listen, then, to my cry for I am in the depths of distress.

Rescue me from those who pursue me for they are stronger than I. Bring my soul out of this prison and then I shall praise your name. Around me the just will assemble because of your goodness to me.

Commentary by Pope St John Paul II

1. On the evening of 3rd October 1226, St Francis of Assisi lay dying: his last prayer was, precisely, the recitation of Psalm 141 [142] that we have just heard. St Bonaventure recalls that Francis “burst out with the exclamation of the Psalm: ‘I cry with my voice to the Lord, with my voice I make supplication to the Lord’, and recited it to the very last verse: ‘The righteous will surround me; for you will deal bountifully with me’” (Legenda Maior, XIV, 5, in: Fonti Francescane, Padua, Assisi, 1980, p. 958). The Psalm is an intense petition, marked by a series of verbs of entreaty addressed to the Lord. “I cry... to the Lord”, “I make supplication to the Lord”, “I pour out my complaint before him”, “I tell my trouble” (vv. 1-2). The central part of the Psalm is dominated by trust in God who is not indifferent to the suffering of his faithful (cf. vv. 3-7). With this attitude St Francis approached his end.

2. God is called upon with the familiar form of “you”, as a person who provides security: “You are my refuge” (v. 5). “You know my path!”, that is, the journey of my life, a route marked by the choice of justice. However, on that path the wicked have set a hidden snare (cf. v. 3); this typical image taken from hunting scenes recurs in the Psalms of petition to indicate the dangers and threats to which the just are subjected.

Facing this nightmare, the Psalmist, as it were, sounds the alarm so that God may see his situation and intervene: “I look to the right and watch” (v. 4). In the Eastern tradition, the person would have on his right his defender or favourable witness in a court or, in the case of war, his bodyguard. Hence, the believer feels lonely and abandoned: “there is no one who takes notice of me”; and he makes an anguished observation: “no refuge remains to me, no man cares for me” (v. 4).

3. A cry then immediately reveals the hope that dwells in the heart of the person of prayer. Henceforth, his only protection, his only affection, is to be found in God: “You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living” (v. 5). The “portion” or “destiny” in biblical language is the gift of the promised land, a sign of God’s love for his people. The Lord now remains the last and only foundation to depend on, the only possibility of life, the supreme hope.

The Psalmist calls upon him insistently, because he has been “brought very low” (v. 6). He entreats the Lord to intervene to break the chains of his prison of solitude and hostility (cf. v. 7) and to bring him out of the abyss of trial.

4. As in other Psalms of petition, the final prospect is the thanksgiving that will be offered to God when he has answered the prayer: “Bring me out of prison, that I may give thanks to your name!” (ibid.). When he has been saved, the faithful one will thank the Lord in the midst of the liturgical assembly (cf. ibid.). The righteous will surround him and will see the salvation of their brother as a gift that is also offered to them.

This atmosphere must also pervade Christian celebrations. The suffering of the individual must echo in the hearts of all; likewise, the joy of each one must be vibrant in the whole of the praying community. “Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity” (Ps 132 [133]:1), and the Lord Jesus said: “Where two or three are gathered in my name there am I in the midst of them” (Mt 18:20).

5. Christian tradition has applied Psalm 141 [142] to the persecuted and suffering Christ. In this perspective, the luminous goal of the Psalm’s plea is transfigured into a paschal sign on the basis of the glorious outcome of the life of Christ and of our destiny of resurrection with him. This is also what St Hilary of Poitiers, a famous fourth-century Doctor of the Church, says in his Treatise on the Psalms.

He comments on the Latin translation of the last verse of the Psalm, which speaks of a reward for the person of prayer and the expectation of being with the just: “Me expectant iusti, donec retribuas mihi”. St Hilary explains that “the Apostle teaches us what reward the Father gave to Christ: ‘God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father’ (Phil 2:9-11). This is the reward: to the body that has ascended is given the everlasting glory of the Father.

“Then the same Apostle teaches us what the expectation of the just consists in, saying: ‘Our commonwealth is in heaven, and from it we await a Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will change our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power which enables him even to subject all things to himself’ (Phil 3:20-21). Indeed, the just await his coming so that he will reward them, that is, by changing them to be like his glorious body that is blessed for ever and ever. Amen” (PL 9, 833-837).

Canticle

Christ, the servant of God Phil 2:6-11

Thoughhe was in the form of God, Jesus did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped. He emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross.

Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name,

That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, And every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Commentary by Pope St John Paul II

1. In addition to the Psalms, the Liturgy of Vespers includes certain Biblical Canticles. The Canticle just proclaimed is undoubtedly one of the most significant and theologically rich. It is a hymn placed in the second chapter of the Letter of St Paul to the Christians of Philippi, the Greek city that was the Apostle’s first stop of missionary proclamation in Europe. The Canticle is thought to be an expression of the original Christian Liturgy and it is a joy for our generation, after two millennia, to join in the prayer of the Apostolic Church.

The Canticle unfolds in a double vertical trajectory: a first movement is one of descent followed by ascension. Indeed, on one hand, there is the humiliating descent of the Son of God when, in the Incarnation, he becomes man out of love for humankind. He plummets into the kenosis, the “emptying” of his divine glory, pushed to the point of death on the Cross, the punishment of slaves who were least among men, thus making him a true brother of suffering humanity, sinful and rejected.

2. On the other hand, there is the triumphant ascension which takes place on Easter Day, when the Father reinstates Christ in the divine splendour and he is celebrated as Lord by the entire cosmos and by all men and women now redeemed. We are placed before a magnificent re-reading of Christ’s mystery, primarily the Paschal one. St Paul, along with proclaiming the Resurrection (cf. 1 Cor 15:3-5), defines Christ’s Paschal mystery as the “exaltation”, “raising up”, “glorification”.

Therefore, from the bright horizon of divine transcendence, the Son of God crossed the infinite distance between Creator and creature. He did not cling, as if to a prey, to his “equality with God”, which was due to him by nature and not from usurpation. He did not want to claim jealously this prerogative as a treasure, nor use it for his own interests. Rather, Christ “emptied”, “humbled” himself and appeared poor, weak, destined for the shameful death of crucifixion; it is precisely from this extreme humiliation that the great movement of ascension takes off, described in the second part of the Pauline hymn (cf. Phil 2, 9-11).

3. God now “exalts” his Son, conferring upon him a glorious “name” which, in Biblical language, indicates the person himself and his dignity. Now this “name” Kyrios or “Lord”, the sacred name of the Biblical God, is given to the Risen Christ. This places heaven, earth and hell, according to the division of the universe into three parts, in a state of adoration.

In this way, at the close of the hymn, Christ appears in glory as the Pantocrator, that is, the omnipotent Lord triumphantly enthroned in the apses of the Palaeochristian and Byzantine basilicas. He still bears the signs of the passion, of his true humanity, but now reveals the splendour of divinity. Near to us in suffering and death, Christ now draws us to himself in glory, blessing us and letting us share in his eternity.

4. Let us conclude our reflection on the Pauline hymn with the words of St Ambrose, who often uses the image of Christ who “emptied himself”, humiliating himself and, as it were, annihilating himself (exinanivit semetipsum) in the Incarnation and his oblation on the Cross. Particularly in his Comment on Psalm 118, the Bishop of Milan says:

“Christ, hung on the tree of the Cross... was pierced by the lance, whereby blood and water flowed out, sweeter than any ointment, from the victim acceptable to God, spreading throughout the world the perfume of sanctification.... Thus, Jesus, pierced, spread the perfume of the forgiveness of sins and of redemption. Indeed, in becoming man from the Word which he was, he was very limited and became poor, though he was rich, so as to make us rich through his poverty (cf. 2 Cor 8:9). He was powerful, yet he showed himself as deprived, so much so that Herod scorned and derided him; he could have shaken the earth, yet he remained attached to that tree; he closed the heavens in a grip of darkness, setting the world on the cross, but he had been put on the Cross; he bowed his head, yet the Word sprung forth; he was annihilated, nevertheless he filled everything. God descended, man ascended; the Word became flesh so that flesh could revindicate for itself the throne of the Word at God’s right hand; he was completely wounded, and yet from him the ointment flowed. He seemed unknown, yet God recognized him” (III, 8, SAEMO IX, Milan-Rome 1987, pp. 131, 133).

Morning Prayer

Psalm 62

My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord vv. 2-9

OGod,you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water. So I gaze on you in the sanctuary to see your strength and your glory.

For your love is better than life, my lips will speak your praise. So I will bless you all my life, in your name I will lift up my hands. My soul shall be filled as with a banquet, my mouth shall praise you with joy.

On my bed I remember you. On you I muse through the night for you have been my help; in the shadow of your wings I rejoice. My soul clings to you; your right hand holds me fast.

Commentary by Pope St John Paul II

1. Psalm 62 on which we are reflecting today is the Psalm of mystical love, which celebrates total adherence to God based on an almost physical yearning and reaching its fullness in a close and everlasting embrace. Prayer becomes longing, thirst and hunger, because it involves the soul and the body.

As St Teresa of Avila wrote: “Thirst, I think, means the desire for something very necessary for us so necessary that if we have none of it we shall die.” (The Way of Perfection, chap. XIX). The liturgy presents to us the first two verses of the Psalm which are indeed focused on the symbols of thirst and hunger, while the third verse evokes a dark horizon, that of the divine judgment of evil, in contrast to the brightness and confident longing of the rest of the Psalm.

2. Let us begin our meditation with the first song, that of the thirst for God (cf. vv. 2-4). It is dawn, the sun is rising in the clear blue sky of the Holy Land, and the person praying begins his day by going to the temple to seek God’s light. He has an almost instinctive, one might say “physical” need for that encounter with the Lord. Just as the dried-out earth is dead until it is watered by the rain and the earth’s gaping cracks suggest the image of its parched and thirsty mouth, so the believer yearns for God, to be filled with him and thus to live in communion with him.

The Prophet Jeremiah had already proclaimed: the Lord is the “source of living waters”, and had reproached the people for building “broken cisterns, that can hold no water” (2,13). Jesus himself would exclaim aloud: “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me; let him drink who believes in me” (Jn 7,37-38). At high noon on a quiet, sunny day, he promises the Samaritan woman: “whoever drinks of the water that I shall give will never thirst; the water that I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (Jn 4,14).

3. The prayer of Psalm 62 is interwoven with the song of the wonderful Psalm 42: “as the deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God.... When shall I come and behold the face of God?” (vv. 2-3). Now in Old Testament language the Hebrew “soul” is indicated by the term nephesh, which in some texts means “throat” and whose meaning in many others is broadened to encompass the whole of the person. Taken in these dimensions, the word helps us to realize how essential and profound our need for God is; without him we lack breath and even life itself. For this reason the Psalmist comes to the point of putting physical existence itself on the second level, if union with God should be lacking: “for your steadfast love is better than life” (Ps 62,3). In Psalm 73 he will also repeat to the Lord: “There is nothing upon earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.... for me it is good to be near God” (Ps 73,25-28).

4. After the song about thirst, the Psalmist sings a song about hunger (cf. Ps 62,5-8). With the images of “the soul feasting as with marrow and fat” and of being filled, the person praying is probably referring to one of the sacrifices that were celebrated in the temple of Zion: the so-called sacrifice “of communion”, that is, a sacred banquet at which the faithful ate the flesh of the sacrifice. Another fundamental need of life is used here as a symbol of communion with God: hunger is appeased when people hear the divine Word and encounter the Lord. Indeed “man does not live by bread alone, but ... by everything that proceeds out of the mouth of the Lord” (Dt 8,3; cf. Mt 4,4). And here flashes across the Christian’s mind the thought of the banquet that Christ prepared on the last evening of his earthly life, whose deep value he had explained in his discourse at Capernaum: “For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him” (Jn 6,55-56).

5. Through the mystical food of communion with God, “the soul clings to him” as the Psalmist says. Once again the word “soul” suggests the whole human being. Here one rightly finds the mention of an embrace, an almost physical clinging; henceforth God and man are in full communion and on the lips of his creature only joyful and grateful praise can bloom. Even during the dark night we feel protected by God’s wings, just as the ark of the Covenant is covered by the wings of the cherubim. And then the ecstatic expression of jubilation blossoms: “In the shadow of your wings I sing for joy”. Fear is dispelled, the embrace does not cling to emptiness but to God himself, our souls are upheld by the power of his right hand (cf. Ps 62,7-8).

6. In reading the Psalm in the light of the Easter mystery, our hunger and thirst which impel us towards God find their fulfillment in the crucified and risen Christ, from whom we receive the gift of the Spirit and the sacraments which give us new life and the nourishment that sustains it. St John Chrysostom reminds us in commenting on the Johannine phrase: from his side “flowed blood and water” (cf. Jn 19,34), he says “that baptism and the mysteries [that is, the Eucharist] were symbolized in that blood and water”. And he concludes: “Have you seen how Christ has united his bride to himself? Have you seen with what kind of food he feeds us all? By the same food we are formed and are fed. As a woman feeds her child with her own blood and milk, so too Christ himself continually feeds those whom he has begotten with his own blood” (Homily III address to catechumens, 16-19 passim: SC 50 bis, 160-162).

Canticle

Let every creature bless the Lord Dan 3,57-88.56

Oallyou works of the Lord, O bless the Lord. To him be highest glory and praise for ever. And you, angels of the Lord, O bless the Lord.

To him be highest glory and praise for ever.

And you, the heavens of the Lord, O bless the Lord. And you, clouds of the sky, O bless the Lord. And you, all armies of the Lord, O bless the Lord.

To him be highest glory and praise for ever.

And you, sun and moon, O bless the Lord. And you, the stars of the heav’ns, O bless the Lord.

And you, showers and rain, O bless the Lord.

To him be highest glory and praise for ever.

And you, all you breezes and winds, O bless the Lord. And you, fire and heat, O bless the Lord. And you, cold and heat, O bless the Lord.

To him be highest glory and praise for ever.

And you, showers and dew, O bless the Lord. And you, frosts and cold, O bless the Lord.

And you, frost and snow, O bless the Lord.

To him be highest glory and praise for ever.

And you, night-time and day, O bless the Lord. And you, darkness and light, O bless the Lord. And you, lightning and clouds, O bless the Lord. To him be highest glory and praise for ever.

O let the earth bless the Lord.

To him be highest glory and praise for ever.

And you, mountains and hills, O bless the Lord. And you, all plants of the earth, O bless the Lord. And you, fountains and springs, O bless the Lord.

To him be highest glory and praise for ever.

And you, rivers and seas, O bless the Lord. And you, creatures of the sea, O bless the Lord. And you, every bird in the sky, O bless the Lord. And you, wild beasts and tame, O bless the Lord. To him be highest glory and praise for ever.

And you, children of men, O bless the Lord. To him be highest glory and praise for ever.

O Israel, bless the Lord. O bless the Lord. And you, priests of the Lord, O bless the Lord.

And you, servants of the Lord, O bless the Lord. To him be highest glory and praise for ever.

And you, spirits and souls of the just, O bless the Lord. And you, holy and humble of heart, O bless the Lord.

Ananias, Azarias, Mizael, O bless the Lord. To him be highest glory and praise for ever.

Let us praise the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit: To you be highest glory and praise for ever. May you be blessed, O Lord, in the heavens. To you be highest glory and praise for ever.

Commentary by Pope St John Paul II

1. “Bless the Lord, all works of the Lord” (Dn 3,57). A cosmic dimension imbues this Canticle taken from the Book of Daniel, which the Liturgy of the Hours proposes for Sunday Lauds in the first and third weeks. This marvellous litany-like prayer is well-suited to the Dies Domini, the Day of the Lord, that lets us contemplate in the risen Christ the culmination of God’s plan for the cosmos and for history. Indeed, in him, the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end of history (cf. Rv 22,13), creation itself acquires its full meaning since, as John recalls in the Prologue to his Gospel, “all things were made through him” (Jn 1,3). The history of salvation culminates in the resurrection of Christ, opening human life to the gift of the Spirit and adoption as sons and daughters, while awaiting the return of the divine Spouse who will hand the world back to God the Father (cf. 1 Cor 15,24).

2. In this text, in the form of a litany, it is as if our gaze passes all things in review. Our gaze focuses on the sun, the moon and the stars; it settles upon the immense expanse of the waters, rises to the mountains, lingers over the most varied elements of the weather; it passes from hot to cold, from light to darkness; considers the mineral and vegetable worlds, dwells on the various types of animals. Then the call becomes universal: it refers to God’s angels, reaches all the “sons of men”, but most particularly involves the People of God, Israel, the priests and the holy ones. It is an immense choir, a symphony in which the varied voices are raised in praise to God, Creator of the universe and Lord of history. Prayed in the light of Christian revelation, it is addressed to the Trinitarian God, as we are invited to do by the liturgy which adds a Trinitarian formula to the Canticle: “Let us praise the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit”.

3. Reflected in the Canticle, in a certain sense, is the universal religious soul, which perceives God’s imprint in the world and is lifted up to contemplate the Creator. However, in the context of the Book of Daniel, the hymn is presented as the thanksgiving of three young Israelites - Ananias, Azarias, Mizael - who were condemned to die burnt in a furnace for refusing to adore the golden idol of Nebuchadnezzar, but were miraculously preserved from the flames. Against the background of this event is that special history of salvation in which God chooses Israel as his people and makes a covenant with them. It is the same covenant to which the three young Israelites want to stay faithful, even at the cost of martyrdom in the fiery furnace. Their fidelity meets with the fidelity of God who sends an angel to drive the flames away from them (cf. Dn 3,49).

In this way the Canticle is patterned on the Old Testament songs of praise for danger averted. Among them is the famous song of victory, cited in chapter 15 of Exodus, in which the ancient Hebrews express their gratitude to the Lord for that night in which they would inevitably have been overcome by Pharaoh’s army, had the Lord not opened a passage for them, dividing the waters and hurling “the horse and his rider ... into the sea” (Ex 15,1).

4. It is not by chance, in the solemn Easter Vigil, that every year the liturgy makes us repeat the hymn sung by the Israelites in Exodus. That path which was opened for them prophetically announced the new way that the risen Christ inaugurated for humanity on the holy night of his resurrection from the dead. Our symbolic passing through the waters of Baptism enables us to relive a similar experience of passing from death to life, thanks to the victory over death won by Jesus, for the benefit of us all.

By repeating the Canticle of the three young Israelites in the Sunday liturgy of Lauds, we disciples of Christ want to be swept up in the same wave of gratitude for the great works wrought by God, in creation and, above all, in the mystery of Christ’s death and resurrection.

In fact, the Christian discerns a relationship between the release of the three young men, mentioned in the Canticle, and the resurrection of Jesus. In the latter, the Acts of the Apostles see granted the prayer of the believer who, like the Psalmist, confidently sings: “you will not abandon my soul to Hades, nor let your Holy One see corruption” (Acts 2,27; Ps 15,10).

It is traditional to associate the Canticle with the Resurrection. Some ancient records show the existence of the hymn in the prayer of the Lord’s Day, the weekly Easter of Christians. Moreover, iconographical depictions which show three young men praying unharmed amidst the flames have been found in the Roman catacombs, thereby witnessing to the effectiveness of prayer and the certainty that the Lord will intervene.

5. “Blessed are you in the firmament of heaven praiseworthy and glorious forever” (Dn 3,56). In singing the hymn on Sunday, the Christian feels gratitude not only for the gift of creation but also because we are the recipients of the fatherly care of God, who in Christ has raised us to the dignity of being his sons and daughters.

God’s fatherly care makes us see creation in a new way and its astounding beauty offers an elegant sign in which we can catch a glimpse of his love. With these sentiments Francis of Assisi contemplated creation and lifted his praise to God, the ultimate source of all beauty. It comes naturally to imagine that the prayers of the Biblical text were echoed in his soul when at San Damiano, after touching the peaks of physical and spiritual suffering, he composed the “Canticle of Brother Sun” (cf. Fonti Francescane, 263).

Psalm 149

Song of praise and joy sung by festive chorus and instruments

Sing a new song to the Lord, his praise in the assembly of the faithful. Let Israel rejoice in its Maker, let Sion’s sons exult in their king. Let them praise his name with dancing and make music with timbrel and harp.

For the Lord takes delight in his people. He crowns the poor with salvation. Let the faithful rejoice in their glory, shout for joy and take their rest. Let the praise of God be on their lips and a two-edged sword in their hand, to deal out vengeance to the nations and punishment on all the peoples; to bind their kings in chains and their nobles in fetters of iron; to carry out the sentence pre-ordained: this honour is for all his faithful.

Commentary by Pope St John Paul II

1. “Let the faithful exult in glory, let them rise joyfully from their couches”. The order which you have just heard in Psalm 149, points to a dawn which is breaking and finds the faithful ready to chant their morning praise. With a suggestive phrase, their song of praise is defined as “a new song” (v. 1), a solemn and perfect hymn, perfect for the final days, in which the Lord will gather together the just in a renewed world. A festive atmosphere pervades the entire Psalm; it begins with the initial Alleluia and then continues with chant, praise, joy, dance, the sound of drums and of harps. The Psalm inspires a prayer of thanksgiving from a heart filled with religious exultation.

2. The protagonists of the Psalm in the original Hebrew text are given two terms that are taken from the spirituality of the Old Testament. Three times they are defined as the hasidim (vv. 1,5,9), “the pious, the faithful ones”, who respond with fidelity and love (hesed) to the fatherly love of the Lord.

The second part of the Psalm provokes surprise because it is full of warlike sentiments. It is strange that in the same verse, the Psalm brings together “the praises of God on the lips” and “the two-edged sword in their hands” (v. 6). Upon reflection, we can understand why the Psalm was composed for the use of the “faithful” who were involved in a struggle for liberation; they were fighting to free an oppressed people and to give them the possibility of serving God. During the Maccabean era, in the 2nd century B.C., those fighting for freedom and faith, who underwent a severe repression from the Hellenistic power, were defined as the hasidim, the ones faithful to the Word of God and the tradition of the fathers.

3. In the present perspective of our prayer, the warlike symbolism becomes an image of the dedication of the believer who sings the praises of God in the morning and then goes into the ways of the world, in the midst of evil and injustice. Unfortunately powerful forces are arrayed against the Kingdom of God: the Psalmist speaks of “peoples, nations, leaders and nobles”. Yet he is confident because he knows that he has at his side the Lord, who is the master of history (v. 2). His victory over evil is certain and so will be the triumph of love. All the hasidim participate in the battle, they are the faithful and just who with the power of the Spirit bring to fulfilment the wonderful work that is called the Kingdom of God.

4. St Augustine, starting with the reference of the Psalm to the “choir” and to the “drums and harps”, commented: “What does the choir represent?... The choir is a group of singers who sing together. If we sing in a choir, we must sing in harmony. When one sings in a choir, one off-key voice strikes the listener and creates confusion in the choir” (Enarr in Ps 149; CCL 40,7,1-4).

Referring to the instruments mentioned in the Psalm he asks: “Why does the Psalmist take in hand the drum and the harp?”. He answers, “Because we praise the Lord not just with the voice, but also with our works. When we take up the drum and the harp, the hands have to be in accord with the voice. The same goes for you. When you sing the Alleluia, you must give bread to the poor, give clothes to the naked, give shelter to the traveler. If you do it, not only does your voice sing, but your hands are in accord with your voice because the works agree with the words” (ibid., 8,1-4).

5. There is a second term which we use to define those who pray in the Psalm: they are the anawim, “the poor and lowly ones” (v. 4). The expression turns up often in the Psalter. It indicates not just the oppressed, the miserable, the persecuted for justice, but also those who, with fidelity to the moral teaching of the Covenant with God, are marginalized by those who prefer to use violence, riches and power. In this light one understands that the category of the “poor” is not just a social category but a spiritual choice. It is what the famous first Beatitude means: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5,3). The Prophet Zephaniah spoke to the anawim as special persons: “Seek the Lord, all you humble of the land, who do his commands; seek righteousness, seek humility; perhaps you may be hidden on the day of wrath of the Lord” (Zep 2,3).

6. The “day of the Lord’s wrath” is really the day described in the second part of the Psalm when the “poor” are lined up on the side of God to fight against evil. By themselves they do not have sufficient strength or the arms or the necessary strategies to oppose the onslaught of evil. Yet the Psalmist does not admit hesitation: “The Lord loves his people, he adorns the lowly (anawim) with victory” (v. 4). What St Paul says to the Corinthians completes the picture: “God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are” (1 Cor 1,28). With such confidence the “sons of Zion” (v. 2), the hasidim and anawim, the faithful and the poor, go on to live their witness in the world and in history. Mary’s Canticle in the Gospel of Luke, the Magnificat, is the echo of the best sentiments of the “sons of Zion”: glorious praise of God her Saviour, thanksgiving for the great things done by the Mighty One, the battle against the forces of evil, solidarity with the poor and fidelity to the God of the Covenant (cf. Lk 1,46-55).

Evening Prayer Ii

Psalm 109

Sit at my right hand! vv. 1-5,7

TheLord’s revelation to my Master: “Sit on my right: your foes I will put beneath your feet.”

The Lord will wield from Sion your sceptre of power: rule in the midst of all your foes.

A prince from the day of your birth on the holy mountains; from the womb before the dawn I begot you.

The Lord has sworn an oath he will not change. “You are a priest for ever, a priest like Melchizedek of old.”

The Master standing at your right hand will shatter kings in the day of his wrath. He shall drink from the stream by the wayside and therefore he shall lift up his head.

Commentary by Pope St John Paul II

1. We have just listened to one of the most famous Psalms in Christian history. Indeed, Psalm 109 [110], which the Liturgy of Vespers presents to us every Sunday, is cited frequently in the New Testament. Verses 1 and 4 in particular are applied to Christ in the wake of the ancient Judaic tradition that has transformed this Davidic hymn of royal praise into a Messianic Psalm.

This prayer’s popularity is also due to its constant use at Sunday Vespers. Psalm 109 [110], therefore, in its Latin Vulgate version, has been the subject of many splendid musical compositions that have marked the history of western culture. The Liturgy, in accordance with the procedures decided upon by the Second Vatican Council, has omitted the violent verse 6 from the original Hebrew text of this Psalm, which, moreover, is composed of only sixty-three words. It is very close in tone to the so-called “Cursing

Psalms” and describes the Jewish king advancing in a sort of military campaign, crushing his adversaries and judging the nations.

2. Since we will have an opportunity to return to this Psalm on other occasions, (see pages 160-1; 291; 399) after thinking about its use in the Liturgy, we will now be satisfied with an overall glance at it. We will be able to distinguish clearly two parts in it. The first (cf. vv. 1-3) contains an oracle addressed by God to the one the Psalmist calls “my lord”, that is, the sovereign of Jerusalem. The oracle proclaims the enthronement at God’s “right hand” of David’s descendent. In fact, the Lord speaks to him, saying: “Sit at my right hand” (v. 1). It is quite likely that this is an allusion to a rite that required the person chosen to sit on the right of the Ark of the Covenant, to receive the power of government from the supreme king of Israel, in other words, the Lord.

3. Against this background we can sense the presence of hostile forces that have been neutralized by a victorious conquest: the enemies are portrayed at the feet of the sovereign, who solemnly advances among them bearing the sceptre of his authority (cf. vv. 1-2). This undoubtedly reflects a real political situation, recorded at the time when one king handed over his power to another with the uprising of a few subordinates or an attempt to conquer. Henceforth, however, the text refers to a general contrast between the plan of God, who works through his Chosen People, and the scheming of those who would like to assert their own hostile and counterfeit power. Here, then, we have the eternal conflict between good and evil that takes place in the context of historical events through which God manifests himself and speaks to us.

4. The second part of the Psalm, however, contains a priestly prayer whose protagonist is still the Davidic king (vv. 4-7). Guaranteed by a solemn divine oath, the dignity of kingship also unites in itself the dignity of priesthood. The reference to Melchisedek, the priest-king of Salem, that is, of ancient Jerusalem (cf. Gn 14), is perhaps a way to justify the specific priesthood of the king beside the official Levitical priesthood of the Temple of Zion. Additionally, it is also well known that the Letter to the Hebrews starts, precisely, with this oracle: “You are a priest for ever according to the order of Melchisedek” (Ps 109 [110]:4), in order to illustrate the special and perfect priesthood of Jesus Christ. We will examine Psalm 109

[110] in greater detail later, going through it verse by verse and making a careful analysis.

5. To conclude, however, let us reread the first verse of the Psalm that contains the divine oracle: “Sit at my right hand, till I make your enemies your footstool”. And let us read it with St Maximus of Turin (fourth-fifth century A.D.), who commented on it in his Sermon on Pentecost: “Our custom has it that the sharing of the footstool is offered to the one who, having accomplished some feat, deserves to sit in the place of honour as champion. So too, the man Jesus Christ, overcoming the devil with his passion, opening underground realms with his Resurrection, arriving victorious in heaven as one who has brought some undertaking to a successful conclusion, listens to God the Father inviting him: ‘Sit at my right hand’. Nor must we be surprised if the Father offers to share with us the seat of the Son who, by nature, is consubstantial with the Father... The Son sits on his right because, according to the Gospel, the sheep will be on the right; on the left, on the other hand, will be the goats. The first Lamb, therefore, must sit on the same side as the sheep, and the immaculate Head must take possession in advance of the place destined for the immaculate flock that will follow him” (40, 2: Scriptores circa Ambrosium, IV, MilanRome, 1991, p. 195).

Psalm 113A

They all sang with one voice vv. 1-8

WhenIsrael came forth from Egypt, Jacob’s sons from an alien people, Judah became the Lord’s temple, Israel became his kingdom.

The sea fled at the sight: the Jordan turned back on its course, the mountains leapt like rams and the hills like yearling sheep.

Why was it, sea, that you fled, that you turned back, Jordan, on your course? Mountains, that you leapt like rams, hills, like yearling sheep?

Tremble, O earth, before the Lord, in the presence of the God of Jacob, who turns the rock into a pool and flint into a spring of water.

Commentary by Pope St John Paul II

1. The joyful and triumphant song we have just proclaimed recalls Israel’s Exodus from the oppression of the Egyptians. Psalm 113A [114] belongs to the collection that Jewish tradition has called the “Egyptian Hallel”. These are Psalms 112-117 [113-118], a selection of songs used especially in the Jewish Passover liturgy.

Christianity has taken Psalm 113A [114] with the same paschal connotation, but opened it to the new interpretation derived from Christ’s Resurrection. The Exodus celebrated by the Psalm becomes, therefore, the symbol of another, more radical and universal liberation. Dante, in his Divine Comedy, places this hymn, in its Latin Vulgate version, on the lips of the souls in Purgatory: “In exitu Israel de Aegypto: they all sang together with one voice...” (Purgatory II, 46-47). In other words, he saw in the Psalm the song of expectation and hope of those who are on the way, after purification from every sin, towards the final goal of communion with God in Paradise.

2. Let us now follow the thematic and spiritual line of this short, prayerful composition. It opens (cf. vv. 1-2) by recalling the Exodus of Israel from Egyptian oppression until its entry into that Promised Land which is God’s “sanctuary”; that is, the place of his presence in the midst of his people. In fact, land and people are fused together: Judah and Israel, terms with which the Holy Land or the Chosen People were designated, come to be considered as the seat of the presence of the Lord, his special property and inheritance (cf. Ex 19:5-6).

After this theological description of one of the fundamental elements of faith of the Old Testament, that is, the proclamation of the marvels God worked for his people, the Psalmist reflects more profoundly, spiritually and symbolically on the constitutive events.

3. The Red Sea of the Exodus from Egypt and the Jordan of the entry into the Holy Land are personified and transformed into witnesses and instruments that have a part in the liberation wrought by God (cf. Ps 113A [114]:3,5).

At the beginning in the Exodus, the sea rolls back to allow Israel to pass, and at the end of the journey through the desert, it is the Jordan which turns back in its course, leaving its bed dry so that the procession of the children of Israel can cross over (cf. Jos 3-4). At the centre there is a reference to Sinai: it is now the mountains that participate in the great divine revelation which takes place on their summits. Likened to living creatures such as rams and lambs, they skip and exult. With a very vivid personification, the Psalmist now asks the mountains about thereason for their confusion: “Why is it... you mountains, that you skip like rams? You hills, like the lambs of the flock?” (Ps 113A [114]:6). Their response is not mentioned: it is given indirectly through an injunction, subsequently addressed to the earth, so that it too should tremble “before the Lord” (cf. v. 7). The confusion of the mountains and the hills, therefore, was a startled adoration in the presence of the Lord, God of Israel, an act of glorious exaltation of the transcendent and saving God.

4. This is the theme of the last part of Psalm 113A [114] (cf. vv. 7-8), which introduces another important event of Israel’s march through the desert, that of the water that gushed from the rock of Meribah (cf. Ex 17:1-7; Nm 20:1-13). God transformed the rock into a spring of water which becomes a lake: the source of this miracle is his fatherly concern for the people.

This gesture acquires, then, a symbolic meaning: it is a sign of the saving love of the Lord who sustains and regenerates humanity as it advances though the desert of history.

St Paul was known to use this image and, on the basis of a Jewish tradition which claims that the rock accompanied Israel on its journey through the desert, he re-read the event in a Christological key: “All drank the same spiritual drink. For they drank from the spiritual Rock that followed them, and the Rock was Christ” (1 Cor 10:4).

5. In this wake, commenting on the Exodus of the people of Israel from Egypt, a great Christian teacher such as Origen conceived of the New Exodus undertaken by Christians. Indeed, this is what he says: “Do not think that it was only then that Moses led the people out of Egypt: now too we have Moses with us..., that is, the law of God wants to bring you out of Egypt; if you listen to it, it wishes to distance you from Pharaoh... It does not want you to remain in the dark actions of the flesh, but to go out into the desert, that you reach a place apart from the upheavals and instability of the world, that you reach stillness and silence... So when you have arrived in this place of calm, there you can sacrifice to the Lord, recognize the law of God and the power of the divine voice” (Homilies on Exodus, Rome, 1981, pp. 71-72). Taking up the Pauline image that calls to mind the crossing of the sea, Origen continues: “The Apostle calls this a baptism, realized in Moses in the cloud and sea, so that you too, who have been baptized in Christ, in water and in the Holy Spirit, may know that the Egyptians are pursuing you and want to reclaim you to serve them: namely, the rulers of this world and the evil spirits to whom you were first enslaved. They will certainly seek to follow you, but you will go into the water and escape unharmed, and having washed away the stains of sin, you will come out as a new man ready to sing the new canticle” (ibid., p. 107).

Let us rejoice and be glad! Rv 19:1,2,5-7

Alleluia.Salvation

and glory and power belong to our God, (R Alleluia.)

His judgements are true and just. R. Alleluia (alleluia). Alleluia.

Praise our God, all you his servants, (R Alleluia.)

You who fear him, both small and great. R. Alleluia (alleluia).

Alleluia.

The Lord our God, the Almighty, reigns, (R Alleluia.)

Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory. R. Alleluia (alleluia).

Alleluia.

The marriage of the Lamb has come, (R Alleluia.)

And his bride has made herself ready. R. Alleluia (alleluia).

Commentary by Pope St John Paul II

1. Continuing with the series of Psalms and Canticles that constitute the ecclesial prayer of Vespers, we come across a hymn-like passage from

Chapter 19 of the Book of Revelation that consists of a sequence of alleluias and acclamations.

Behind these joyful invocations is the dramatic lament intoned in the previous chapter by the kings, merchants and seafaring men at the fall of imperial Babylon, the city of evil and oppression, symbol of the persecution unleashed against the Church.

2. To counter this cry that rises from the earth, a joyful chorus of a liturgical nature rings out in the heavens, and in addition to the alleluia, repeats the amen. The various acclamations, similar to antiphons, that the Liturgy of Vespers now combines in a single hymn, are actually put on the lips of various figures in the Apocalypse text. We discover first of all a “great multitude”, made up of the hosts of angels and saints (cf. vv. 1-3). Then, we can single out the voice of “the twenty-four elders” and “four living creatures”, symbolic figures who seem to be the priests of this heavenly liturgy of praise and thanksgiving (cf. v. 4). Lastly, a single voice is raised (cf. v. 5), which in turn involves in the Canticle the “great multitude” with which it began (cf. vv. 6-7).

3. In future stages of our journey we will have the opportunity to describe the individual antiphons of this grand and festive hymn of praise by several voices (see pages 166; 294; 402). Let us now make do with two observations. The first concerns the introductory acclamation which states: “Salvation, glory and power belong to our God, for his judgments are true and just” (vv. 1-2).

At the heart of this joyful invocation is the representation of God’s decisive intervention in history: the Lord is not indifferent, as if an impassive emperor, remote from human events. As the Psalmist says, “The Lord’s throne is in heaven; his eyes behold, his searching glance is on mankind” (Ps 10 [11]:4).

4. Indeed, his gaze is a source of action, for he intervenes and demolishes overbearing and oppressive empires, brings down the proud who challenge him and judges those who perpetrate evil. Again, it is the Psalmist who describes in picturesque images how God bursts into history (cf. Ps 10 [11]:7), referred to by the author of the Apocalypse in the previous chapter (cf. Rv 18:1-24), the terrible divine intervention regarding Babylon, uprooted from her centre and hurled into the sea. Our Canticle