(Reflection on Psalm 63)
P. Paul Feeley, O.Carm.
“Again I tell you: It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.” (Mt 19:24) Earlier exegetes softened this statement of Jesus. They claimed that he used a popular saying, referring to a city gate that was so low and narrow that it was called “the eye of the needle.” However, the French ecumenical translation of the Bible states in a footnote that Jesus’ expression is an Oriental hyperbole that must be interpreted according to the context: it is not a reference to a small gate in the walls. Orientals use hyperbole to better express the reality they wish to convey. The same holds true for the author of Psalm 63 when he speaks of thirst for God.
“God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you; my body longs for you
as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” (verse 2)
The camel is an animal from the East capable of retaining a large amount of water in its hump and traveling very far in the desert without drinking. God gives us this ability to thirst, an inner longing that enables us to seek His face. And if God has placed such thirst within us, it is up to us to embrace it.
“So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,
beholding your power and glory.
Because your steadfast love is better than life,
my lips will praise you.” (verses 3–4)
These two verses reveal the deep thought of the psalmist. The thirst mentioned is also his thirst. He is not satisfied with being an ordinary believer; attending the temple on festive days is not enough for him. God is his power because he has seen His glory, the face of God. He wants to share this glory—to contemplate (to see) it within his soul. Thirsting for God!
It is easy to leave contemplation to the saints: “That is their job. Yes, to pray, to attend mass on Sundays, but contemplation? That is a bit too much!” When we immerse ourselves in a busy and hurried life, we forget the greatness of our human existence. When, in search of rest and forgetting our problems, we seek only worldly entertainment, we lose that inner thirst for God; we drink from broken cisterns (Jer 2:13). The camel can go very far in the desert because it has a lot of water within. A person also possesses this ability to thirst, to reach the mountain of God, which is Jesus Christ. And if one avoids the experience of contemplation, one is not humble; one is an agnostic. One is only a believer by name, is cheap. They do not recognize the depth of their human dignity. Their life becomes their own affair rather than a gift from God. They crumble their life, even if, of course, they give part of it to God.
“Your steadfast love is better than life;
my lips will praise you.” (verse 4)
The psalmist has learned to transcend himself. He cannot be a true person unless he transcends himself. Without love (transcending the self), human life is worth nothing. Love is better than life because love (thirst) teaches us to overcome ourselves, to discover human greatness. A person begins to step out of a virtual life and enter into real life, dying to themselves in order to live for God.
Contemplation does not capture God in us, but opens our depths to the mystery of His presence, so that a person becomes aware of their own mystery: deep calls to deep (Ps 42:8).1 It is necessary to recognize one's human limits, and prayer stands against any form of pride, but this longing for the living God is part of our nature, created in the image of God! The thirst for God’s face has its origin in creation; we must simply appropriate it, just as our soul and body belong to us. Let no person despise this ability to seek God, who dwells within them! Our Christian faith contains nothing of mere intellectual speculation, but is based on reason, supported by grace, and gives us the courage to love with a love stronger than death, a love that is better than life (verse 4).
Truly contemplative people have left us their experience of supernatural humanity, which rises to the living God. Utilizing our capacity for knowledge is part of our quest for God; it is a capability that removes all barriers to this contemplative connection. Prayer purifies, clarifies our conscience, stained by sin and pride. It is necessary to go through spiritual storms. God can make us blind as we walk through darkness. That is why John of the Cross speaks of the dark night of the soul.
Our psalmist prays:
“When I remember you upon my bed,
I meditate on you in the watches of the night.” (verse 7)
God never forsakes those who seek Him. We are conscious of God’s presence, which illuminates our darkness, and we experience joy, for we are always “under the shadow of your wings,” always supported by God’s right hand (verses 8–9). Saint Paul wrote to the Corinthians about extraordinary visions: “And I know that this man (that is, Paul himself) was caught up to paradise—whether in the body or out of the body, I do not know; God knows” (2 Cor 12:3). A person is spirit and body, created in the image of God. This is a fundamental characteristic of their being; we cannot arrange for this image to disappear. They possess several realities, which remain forever mysterious (in the body and outside the body), but which touch the divine mystery, not God’s existence, but experience with God. “I believe in God” is no longer just an idea or an article of faith understood in rational terms. Saint Paul knew “this man” who was caught up from earth to paradise, who heard inexpressible words that human beings are not allowed to repeat.
This inability to convey, to share, is part of this body in a “thirsty, dry land” (verse 2). A person who “saw God in His sanctuary” (verse 3) witnessed His power and glory. They know that God’s love is better than life, but they cannot hold it within themselves for long, much less express it. And yet they can still remember it when they know that they have been blinded by dazzling light, and at night they reflect on it for a long time, especially during meditation on the gospel and the psalms that speak to them about God.
Although they are deprived of strong experiences of God, the memory helps them to live “and to rejoice in the shadow of your wings” (verse 8). They know that their being is drawing close to God and that two mysteries (the divine and the human) meet within them. In their mystery, they find the brightness ignited by that second mystery in their hearts. Their own mystery does not fade; it is hidden in God’s mystery. “My lips will praise you..., my soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food” (verses 6 and 8).
Saint Irenaeus says: “God finds this glory in man.” Being created in the image of God is not hyperbole; it is reality; this is what a person is. In prayer, a person is rid of worries, freed from their activities, and confines themselves to their essence. In prayer, a person becomes great, surpassing themselves, capable of entering into God’s immensity. The contemplation of God will be fulfilled only in our coming to heaven; this is our beloved future. Such is man by his nature, by God’s grace.
From the magazine Près de la Source,
published by the Carmelite convent in Nantes,
translated by Alžběta Dřímalová.
