Psalm 90: 3-6, 12-14, 17

This week’s responsorial psalm is drawn from Psalm 90, a teaching from the Wisdom tradition which also carries the tone of lament
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It poignantly echoes the existential concerns raised in our first reading, inviting reflection on life’s transience, the pursuit of wisdom, and our dependence on divine mercy.

You turn man back to dust, saying, “Return, O children of men.”

The issue that seems to consume the psalmist is the transitoriness of human existence. God formed man from the dust of the earth (Genesis 3:19); he holds the fate of humanity in his sovereign hand.

The call to “return” emphasizes not just death, but penitence — a turning of hearts back to God.

For a thousand years in your sight are as yesterday, now that it is past, or as a watch of the night.

Time, which governs human existence, is nothing before God. His eternal perspective contrasts sharply with our fleeting span. God’s transcendence places human life in humbling relief.

You make an end of them in their sleep; the next morning they are like the changing grass, which at dawn springs up anew, but by evening wilts and fades.

The ephemeral nature of life is portrayed with vivid imagery. Sleep and fading grass suggest life’s transitory beauty, but also its vulnerability, especially under suffering. Without divine mercy, such brevity feels futile.

Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain wisdom of heart.

In response to life’s fragility, the psalmist prays for wisdom of heart, the kind of interior insight that will enable the people to live the few days they have committed to the things of God.

Return, O LORD! How long? Have pity on your servants!

This cry comes from a community in great distress. Apparently the people have been suffering for some time, for they cry out to God in prayer: “How long?”

There are elements here both of lament and hope, trusting that God does not abandon his covenant people.

Fill us at daybreak with your kindness, that we may shout for joy and gladness all our days.

The image of daybreak brings thoughts of hope. The gradual appearance of light dispels the darkness of despair and speaks of promise and well-being.

The plea for kindness (hesed) — God’s steadfast love — is rooted in the covenant. Even amid affliction, the psalmist trusts that divine mercy will restore joy and wholeness.

God has made a promise, and even in the face of the people’s infidelity, God will honor that promise.

Make us glad, for the days when you afflicted us, for the years when we saw evil.

Israel’s theology of suffering acknowledges divine justice, yet always seeks reconciliation. Punishment is medicinal, not retributive — meant to draw the people back to holiness. Even prolonged sorrow is oriented toward restoration.

Let your work be seen by your servants and your glory by their children; and may the gracious care of the LORD our God be ours; prosper the work of our hands for us! Prosper the work of our hands!

The psalm concludes with a vision of divine fidelity visible across generations. The psalmist asks God to sanctify the people’s human labor, transforming it into participation in his saving work. Through mercy and grace, both toil and suffering become fruitful.

When this happens, everyone will see and acknowledge God’s graciousness toward his people. God will be known as the one who hears the cry of the afflicted and rescues them.