Psalm 42 of the Ordo Missae

P. Introibo ad altare Dei S Ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meam. P. Judica me, Deus, et discerne causam meam de gente non sancta: ab homine iniquo et doloso erue me.	P. I will go to the altar of God. S. To God, the joy of my youth. P. Do me justice, O God, and fight my fight against an unholy people, rescue me from the wicked and deceitful man.
S. Quia tu es, Deus, fortitudo mea: quare me repulisti, et quare tristis incedo, dum affligit me inimicus?	S. For Thou, O God, art my strength, why hast Thou forsaken me? And why do I go about in sadness, while the enemy harasses me?
P. Emitte lucem tuam et veritatem tuam: ipsa me deduxerunt et adduxerunt in montem sanctum tuum, et in tabernacula tua.	P. Send forth Thy light and thy truth: for they have led me and brought me to thy holy hill and Thy dwelling place.
S. Et introibo ad altare Dei: ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meam. P. Confitebor tibi in cithara, Deus, Deus meus quare tristis es anima mea, et quare conturbas me?	S. And I will go to the altar of god, to God, the joy of my youth. P. I shall yet praise Thee upon the harp, O God, my God. Why art thou sad, my soul, and why art thou downcast?
S. Spera in Deo, quoniam adhuc confitebor illi: salutare vultus mei, et Deus meus.	S. Trust in God, for I shall yet praise Him, my Savior, and my God.
P. Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto.	P. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.
S. Sicut erat in principo, et nunc, et semper: et in saecula saeculorum. Amen.	S. As it was in the beginning is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.
P. Introibo ad altare Dei. S. Ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meam.	P. I will go to the altar of God. S. To God, the joy of my youth.

I made it to the Feria Sung Mass tonight at Lewisham's Maternal Heart chapel - Latin Mass in Lent is a solemn affair - knocks not bells on entry, dour black candlesticks, the Gloria and Alleluia omitted and all mantillas black, yes, please. Tonight's Mass took me through an understanding of the breathless, naked awaiting, in preparation for the coming of the Light, at Easter, an understanding that must be so resonant with Christianity as it is lived consonant with the seasons in the northern hemisphere. There is the symbolic understanding of the 40 days of asceticism, which of course is applicable to all human experience, no matter the continent upon which we rest. The Gospel readings at this time of year describe Christ's performance of miracle upon miracle upon miracle - part of me wonders in a burning painted this brightly, in the followers portrayed in their multitudes, His tireless, ceaseless push onwards, about the meaning that we ascribe to human life, when we are very close to the end of it. If I parallel these stories of Christ that are re-counted in the Bible to the stories that I hear from elderly folk about the important things they have done in their lives - the echoes remain the same. These stories of miracles, casting out the demons of many or saving a fellow nurse on the army fields from gunshot - these times of immense transformation, these seem to be how humans, as we are, define the ever-alterable courses of our lives.

Psalm 42 sat particularly close to my heart, tonight. It's possible to take a very surface reading of this call and response litany between priest and acolyte - going to the 'joy of my youth' through the altar of God in one way paints a very ageist picture pitting the young against old, fully in harmony with how we Westerners value our human lives (she says ever so cynically).

But there is a deeper, more transformative way to read/listen to Psalm 42 as it is recited here. This Psalm sets the scene for what will happen in the Mass - we are graced with a space where we can acknowledge the ways that we have been separated from the Divine - where it might seem to us that the Divine has indeed been siding with our enemy. We ask that the light be sent to us, and we enter upon a place above, the holy hill, to find again the re-newed zest to continue on our own true paths, the zeal that we most recognise in character as having been so present in our youth.

This Psalm invites me into a space where I am questioning the reasons I am sad, or downcast, it invites me to look into my own heart for separation, for distinctions I am making between myself and 'the Other'. May it never be said that I stood in the way, for one moment of my own, or anyone else's introspection. Herein lies the key to wisdom, or one of the many keys, methinks. :)