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Psalm 144 | King James Audio Bible
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Psalm 144 expresses themes of warfare, divine benevolence, human frailty, and societal well-being under the guidance of God. Traditionally held to be authored by David, a king and warrior deeply conscious of his reliance on divine support, the psalm unfolds as both a personal entreaty for victory and protection and a communal hymn envisioning a society flourishing under God’s favour.
The psalm opens with an exaltation of God as source of strength and martial skill, ‘Blessed be the LORD my strength, which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight.’ This verse acknowledges God’s role in providing the necessary abilities for battle and situates the divine as the central figure in the life and success of the psalmist.
Following this acknowledgment, the psalm ponders the nature of man in relation to the divine, ‘LORD, what is man, that thou takest knowledge of him! or the son of man, that thou makest account of him!’ This rhetorical question emphasizes the transient, insubstantial nature of human life, ‘Man is like to vanity: his days are as a shadow that passeth away,’ highlighting grace inherent in God’s attentiveness to humanity.
As the psalm progresses, David implores God for deliverance from adversaries, invoking dramatic imagery of divine intervention, ‘Bow thy heavens, O LORD, and come down: touch the mountains, and they shall smoke.’ This request depicts a vivid faith in God’s power to effect change in the material world, a faith that underpins the psalmist’s prayers for salvation from external threats.
The narrative then shifts towards a commitment to worship, with the psalmist vowing to sing a new song of praise to God, ‘I will sing a new song unto thee, O God: upon a psaltery and an instrument of ten strings will I sing praises unto thee.’ This pledge reflects a response of gratitude and recognition of God’s sustaining grace, attributed with providing salvation to kings and delivering David from peril, ‘It is he that giveth salvation unto kings: who delivereth David his servant from the hurtful sword.’
Concluding verses of the Psalm paint an idyllic picture of blessings that ensue from divine favour: a society marked by prosperity, security, and harmony, ‘That our sons may be as plants grown up in their youth; that our daughters may be as corner stones, polished after the similitude of a palace.’ This vision extends beyond personal deliverance to encompass a collective well-being, culminating in the assertion that true happiness stems from the acknowledgment of the LORD as God, ‘Happy is that people, that is in such a case: yea, happy is that people, whose God is the LORD.’
Psalm 144 | King James Audio Bible
Blessed be the LORD my strength, which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight:
My goodness, and my fortress; my high tower, and my deliverer; my shield, and he in whom I trust; who subdueth my people under me.
LORD, what is man, that thou takest knowledge of him! or the son of man, that thou makest account of him!
Man is like to vanity: his days are as a shadow that passeth away.
Bow thy heavens, O LORD, and come down: touch the mountains, and they shall smoke.
Cast forth lightning, and scatter them: shoot out thine arrows, and destroy them.
Send thine hand from above; rid me, and deliver me out of great waters, from the hand of strange children;
Whose mouth speaketh vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood.
I will sing a new song unto thee, O God: upon a psaltery and an instrument of ten strings will I sing praises unto thee.
It is he that giveth salvation unto kings: who delivereth David his servant from the hurtful sword.
Rid me, and deliver me from the hand of strange children, whose mouth speaketh vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood:
That our sons may be as plants grown up in their youth; that our daughters may be as corner stones, polished after the similitude of a palace:
That our garners may be full, affording all manner of store: that our sheep may bring forth thousands and ten thousands in our streets:
That our oxen may be strong to labour; that there be no breaking in, nor going out; that there be no complaining in our streets.
Happy is that people, that is in such a case: yea, happy is that people, whose God is the LORD.
Psalm 144 | King James Audio Bible
- Divine Strength And Skill In Battle: Acknowledgment of God as the source of martial prowess and victory.
- Human Frailty And Divine Regard: Contemplation on the transient nature of human life and the marvel of God’s attention to mankind.
- Prayer For Deliverance: Appeals to God for protection against enemies and for divine intervention in times of conflict.
- Praise And Worship Commitment: Vows to sing new songs of praise to God, expressing gratitude and worship for divine salvation and protection.
- Vision Of Societal Prosperity: Descriptions of an ideal society benefiting from God’s favour, marked by prosperity, security, and harmony.
- Divine Guidance And Support: Requests for God’s guidance and the assurance of God’s presence and support in the psalmist’s life and leadership.
- Contrast Between Divine Power And Human Vulnerability: Reflections on the power of God to affect natural and human affairs versus human dependence on divine mercy.
- Hope For Future Blessings: Expressions of hope for future blessings based on faith in God’s promises and past faithfulness.
O Lord, as I begin this journey through the Stations of the Cross, I ask you to be with me and guide me. Help me to open my heart to your love and to be present to your presence in each moment. May this time of meditation deepen my understanding of your sacrifice and strengthen my faith in your redeeming power. I ask this in your holy name. Amen [ … ]
The Carrefour will be open, where I can buy nuts for the red squirrel, who lives in Campo Grande. The red squirrel is Valladolid’s best bit. Even as a child, I had never seen one before, apart from in picture books. It was last term’s discovery. The most beautiful encounter. I didn’t know it was there – in the park. A complete surprise. The tiny little thing bobbled and hopped, as it received in its little hands a nut from the man’s hands. Each surprising instant – it was childlike. I whispered: ‘Oh my wow.’ I walk toward the El Cortes Ingles. There is, for now, that settled feel of friends in bookshops. Though a null-affect, neutral day – it won’t glean, it is not to be scratched at. The queues are long in the Carrefour. Though, as it might be, on relatively modest incomes, many people live centrally. Their behaviours neither pinched nor stark. Yet the shop so busy while the street so empty… An error in the simulation, a glitch in the code. I potter about the aisles, which are pleasant enough, then at the tills I flinch at how expensive a little bag of up-sold nuts can be. Nonetheless, I queue for a packet of almonds. Two English men queue directly ahead of me. They are stocky, and have gay voices, their wheelie-bucket piled with soft drinks and party food, while they bitch to one another about the obviously terrible party they’re going to. The air heaves relief as I wander up the way to the broad plaza fringing Campo Grande. This is a place to see – a piece of Spain. There is a tourist information office, though unopened. At these fountains, three girls take selfies. Pompous-looking buildings, the military offices aside, line the park’s nearest vicinities. Hotel-bars have their patches. Liveried doormen idle time, for there are no paying customers, in and out the doorways’ shadows. A mixed group of kids play at the hoops on the pedestrian boulevard, and two boys practise on skateboards, working the thing out. I pass by them, touched by the thought, and happy that they are there. Wistful, I smile at the odds of the ball spilling over to me, and play in mind the agreeable scene of a fleeting connection. Then I am through the park gates. An air now – of humanity become self-selecting. Modestly understated. Understatedly modest. Campo Grande is nice but it isn’t grande… I walk slowly, and very soon hear for a second time English voices. Not them – it is an English family, just a little way ahead, a Dad and a Mum and a younger boy and an older girl, and theirs are Midlands accents. Dad seems to have been here and to know the place. He gestures panoramically. Mum wants her lunch. The girl at a difficult age. She carries a balloon-on-a-stick. Though she is sprouting – yet wears a loud dress. Then leggings, trainers. Her hair is nice… Maybe she is being okay about it. And not horrific. It’s okay once they get into it, but those months… Yet then, they mostly blossom, if they come from a good home, and become rounded personalities, entering into their womanhood. It was that… when yet they weren’t… I shudder to think of it. They walk toward the pond, and I trail, and would follow had I not been going that way. I wish I could say something so they might hear I am English too. (Fake a phone call?) How my voice might sound – there’d be all college hurling around in such matter I… a demented thing, ludicrous blurt – of Henry, Geoff, and all of them – not to mention the personal predicament. Maybe they’re a nice family. She is letting him explain what he needs to explain. And it would blow his fire, me being English. Mum and Dad. You’d probably see them all having their lunch in a little while. All sat round the table. With napkins and the menus out. Dad looks safe. I look into the pond. Terrapins live in there. But not today. I walk toward the join in the paths where the squirrel lives. There, I crumple the packet of almonds, making noise. I peer and I squat and crouch – chewing a mouthful. All the peacocks have perched right up in the trees’ branches. That never looks like something they should be doing. It’s disappointing that the squirrel isn’t here – but then the not-knowing-if is a part of it. Now, next, my visit to the National Sculpture Museum is an obligation. Canon Peter stood literally aghast when I hadn’t heard of it. Mortified, I made resolute promises. Though a few weeks have passed, it isn’t just any old something I could do on the hoof. A great commitment – it must command a known and prepared and anticipated not-just-any-old-time. But, rather, the sort you must wait for – and listen for. [ … ] Beyond Plaza Mayor, there would be a brief series of old-town alleyways. The National Sculpture Museum would be – just up there, this archway, this next…They are bleached and forgotten-looking walls, and the smoothed paving could be medieval. Not that it is making Tomàs anxious – I follow the map. A kind of place – uneasy credit-cards, and modern vaccinations, and a phone, might not help much. I fancy I feel the back-wall of a church, and that – fancifully – pressure-release drawn out of me. Only I am playing games in a nice way – making play-scared on the uncertainty – with only myself to see. The National Museum is there, modestly signed on stencilled plexiglass stuck to the stone wall. A uniformed lady sits just a little way inside the doorway. She reassures me there is no money required, and directs me over the courtyard into the planned route, showing me where I can pick up a free map. I get my […]
Saint Cyprian of Carthage, a third-century bishop and martyr, profoundly reflected on the Lord’s Prayer in his treatise: ‘On the Lord’s Prayer’. Saint Cyprian viewed the Gospel’s commands as foundational teachings that nourish faith, Strengthen hope, and guide believers toward salvation. Saint Cyprian emphasized that, while prophets conveyed God’s messages, Christ, the Word incarnate, personally delivered these teachings, illuminating the path from the darkness of death to the light of grace [ … ]
