Let me not mock, like the passers by.
Instead of “Save thyself”, Give myself.
Because a Low Life is Good News.
Lead me to shine your light
on those besieged by shadow.
Because you feed the hungry with good things.
Let me stop and listen, each day, to you.
Especially the bad and busy days.
Because you are the Alpha and the Omega. Your place is everywhere.
Thanks be to God!
At the Sung Eucharist at St Stephen Walbrook last week, Reverend Stephen gave us some homework! He asked us to reflect on Psalm 22. We sing this Psalm every year on Good Friday - you don’t need to be a biblical scholar to recognise the links to Christ’s Passion.
At the Sung Eucharist at St Stephen Walbrook last week, Reverend Stephen gave us some homework! He asked us to reflect on Psalm 22. We sing this Psalm every year on Good Friday - you don’t need to be a biblical scholar to recognise the links to Christ’s Passion.
I need a bit of structure to help me reflect, so I used a technique called Lectio Divina. This suggests four steps (after an initial opening prayer) to help you meditate on a piece of scripture and create a form of contemplative prayer.
My thoughts and the prayers I said after reflecting on the text are set out below (and above). I wonder if I will have the same response to this Psalm in the future?
My thoughts and the prayers I said after reflecting on the text are set out below (and above). I wonder if I will have the same response to this Psalm in the future?
Reflections on Psalm 22
An ancient cry of lament, solitary, in a dark, empty place. Something within me knows that the answer lies in the light - but I have lost my senses and with them any awareness of direction and purpose. I have nothing left. I am dry - desperately thirsty - spiritually and physically. Beyond depressed. Crushed. I am like a worm writhing under foot. Eating dirt. Relishing in all things rotten. The lowest of the low. Inhabiting the humus but lacking humility. I am sub-human. Formless, without identity. A void. Acting on instinct and barely managing that.
They mock me, like Christ on the Cross. “Save thyself.” You were there for others, why not me? What have I done to deserve this? Why do you treat others with favour? “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani”? Why hast thou forsaken me?
Perhaps they are right? I can save myself: the answer lies within. God delivered me into this world. He was and is and will be there. Maybe He has answered my cries but I have not heard them? It is hard to hear above the baying dogs; the sound of the shadows - theirs and my own. Wary. Angry. Violent. Under threat. The white noise of fear.
I am besieged by my own thoughts and theirs. I have no force in me for change. They may as well draw lots for my clothes. There is nothing left for them to cover. My heart is melted, my spirit dissolved into flesh and flesh and bones desiccated. No longer radiant skin but leathery hide.
But I have received my Daily Bread. He has lifted me out of the pit. Thank you God! He relieves poverty of mind, body and spirit. His eyes are my eyes. His hands are my hands. It is through him that I have life and love. My purpose. Let us bow down and worship him.
An ancient cry of lament, solitary, in a dark, empty place. Something within me knows that the answer lies in the light - but I have lost my senses and with them any awareness of direction and purpose. I have nothing left. I am dry - desperately thirsty - spiritually and physically. Beyond depressed. Crushed. I am like a worm writhing under foot. Eating dirt. Relishing in all things rotten. The lowest of the low. Inhabiting the humus but lacking humility. I am sub-human. Formless, without identity. A void. Acting on instinct and barely managing that.
They mock me, like Christ on the Cross. “Save thyself.” You were there for others, why not me? What have I done to deserve this? Why do you treat others with favour? “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani”? Why hast thou forsaken me?
Perhaps they are right? I can save myself: the answer lies within. God delivered me into this world. He was and is and will be there. Maybe He has answered my cries but I have not heard them? It is hard to hear above the baying dogs; the sound of the shadows - theirs and my own. Wary. Angry. Violent. Under threat. The white noise of fear.
I am besieged by my own thoughts and theirs. I have no force in me for change. They may as well draw lots for my clothes. There is nothing left for them to cover. My heart is melted, my spirit dissolved into flesh and flesh and bones desiccated. No longer radiant skin but leathery hide.
But I have received my Daily Bread. He has lifted me out of the pit. Thank you God! He relieves poverty of mind, body and spirit. His eyes are my eyes. His hands are my hands. It is through him that I have life and love. My purpose. Let us bow down and worship him.
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