Book of Common Prayer

¹ By the rivers of Babylon,
    we sat and wept
    when we thought of Zion, our home, so far away.
² On the branches of the willow trees,
    we hung our harps and hid our hearts from the enemy.
³ And the men that surrounded us
    made demands that we clap our hands and sing—
Songs of joy from days gone by,
    songs from Zion, our home.
Such cruel men taunted us—haunted our memories.

⁴ How could we sing a song about the Eternal
    in a land so foreign, while still tormented, brokenhearted, homesick?
    Please don’t make us sing this song.
^5-6 O Jerusalem, even still, don’t escape my memory.
    I treasure you and your songs, even as I hide my harp from the enemy.
And if I can’t remember,
    may I never sing a song again—
    may my hands never play well again—
For what use would it be if I don’t remember Jerusalem
    as my source of joy?

⁷ Remember, Eternal One, how the Edomites, our brothers, the descendants of Esau,
    stood by and watched as Jerusalem fell.
Gloating, they said, “Destroy it;
    tear it down to the ground,” when Jerusalem was being demolished.
⁸ O daughter of Babylon, you are destined for destruction!
    Happy are those who pay you back for how you treated us
    so you will no longer walk so proud.
⁹ Happy are those who dash your children against the rocks
    so you will know how it feels.

³ O Eternal One, what is man, that You even care to know him?
    or the son of man, that You are mindful of him?
⁴ Humans are like a passing breath;
    their time on earth is like a shadow that passes over us during the day and soon is gone.

⁵ Eternal One, stretch out an opening in the heavens, and descend.
    Touch the mountains, and make them smoke.
⁶ Send forth bolts of lightning, and scatter my enemies.
    Shoot Your fiery arrows, and rout the enemy.
⁷ Reach down from Your high place;
    save me out of the great waters;
    rescue me from the grasp of these foreigners
⁸ Who speak only lies
    and don’t have truth in their deeds.

⁹ To You, my God, I will sing a new song;
    I will sing Your sweet praises to the sound of a ten-stringed harp,
¹⁰ For You deliver kings from their enemies
    and You rescue Your servant, David, from the sword of evil.
¹¹ Rescue me,
    and save me from the grasp of these foreigners
Who speak only lies
    and don’t have truth in their deeds.

¹² May our sons be like healthy plants
    as they grow and mature,
And may our daughters be like the corner pillars
    that decorate a palace.
¹³ May our storehouses be full
    with abundant supplies of every crop,
And may the flocks of our fields
    multiply into thousands and tens of thousands!
¹⁴ May our cattle be strong and productive,
    without miscarriage, without loss,
    and may there be no riots or protests in our streets!

¹⁵ Happy are the people for whom all this is true;
    happy are the people whose God is the Eternal!

⁵ You made the earth,
    and You made its frame stable forever.
Never will it be shaken.
⁶ You wrapped it in a gown of waters—
    ancient mountains under layers of sky.
⁷ But when You reprimanded those waters, they fled;
    the thunder of Your voice sent them running away.
^8-9 They hammered out new depths, heaved up new heights,
    and swallowed up whatever You commanded.
At first, they covered the earth,
    but now You have bound them,
    and they know their appointed place.

¹⁰ You send fresh streams that spring up in the valleys,
    in the cracks between hills.
¹¹ Every animal of the open field makes its journey there for drink:
    wild donkeys lap at the brooks’ edges.
¹² Birds build their nests by the streams,
    singing among the branches.
¹³ And the clouds, too, drink up their share,
    raining it back down on the mountains from the upper reaches of Your home,
Sustaining the whole earth with what comes from You.
    And the earth is satisfied.

^14-15 Thus You grow grain for bread, grapes for wine, grass for cattle—
    all of this for us.
And so we have bread to make our bodies strong,
    wine to make our hearts happy,
    oil to make our faces shine.
Every good thing we need, Your earth provides;
    our faces grow flush with Your life in them.
¹⁶ The forests are Yours, Eternal One—stout hardwoods watered deeply, swollen with sap—
    like the great cedars of Lebanon You planted,
¹⁷ Where many birds nest.
    There are fir trees for storks,
¹⁸ High hills for wild goats,
    stony cliffs for rock badgers.
For each place, a resident,
    and for each resident, a home.
¹⁹ The moon strides through her phases, marking seasons as she goes.
    The sun hides at his appointed time,
²⁰ And with the darkness You bring, so comes night—
    when the prowling animals of the forest move about.
²¹ It is then that lions seek the food You, the True God, give them,
    roaring after their prey.
²² At sunrise, they disappear
    and sleep away the day in their dens.
²³ Meanwhile, the people take to the fields and to the shops and to the roads,
    to all the places that people work, until evening when they rest.

²⁴ There is so much here, O Eternal One, so much You have made.
    By the wise way in which You create, riches and creatures fill the earth.
²⁵ Of course, the sea is vast and stretches like the heavens beyond view,
    and numberless creatures inhabit her.
    From the tiny to the great, they swarm beneath her waves.
²⁶ Our ships skim her surface
    while the monsters of the sea play beneath.

²⁷ And all of these look to You
    to give them food when the time is right.
²⁸ When You feed, they gather what You supply.
    When You open Your hand, they are filled with good food.
²⁹ When You withdraw Your presence, they are dismayed.
    When You revoke their breath, the life goes out of them,
    and they become, again, the dust of the earth from which You formed them at the start.
³⁰ When You send out Your breath, life is created,
    and the face of the earth is made beautiful and is renewed.

³¹ May the glorious presence of the Eternal linger among us forever.
    And may He rejoice in the greatness of His own works—
³² He, who rattles the earth with a glance;
    He, who sets mountains to smoking with a touch.
³³ I will sing to the Eternal all of my life;
    I will call my God good as long as I live.

³⁴ May the thoughts of my mind be pleasing to Him,
    for the Eternal has become my happiness.
³⁵ But may those who hate Him, who act against Him,
    disappear from the face of this beautiful planet.
As for the Eternal, call Him good, my soul.
Praise the Eternal!

³ Job: May the day die on which I was born,
        along with the night that spoke the words, “a boy is conceived.”
⁴     May that day of birth become darkness, and when it has disappeared,
        may God above neither seek it out nor light find a way to shine on it.
⁵     Rather, let darkness and the shadow of death claim the day and its life-giving light.
        Let storm clouds roll over it and threatening blackness terrorize it.
⁶     As to that night of my conception—
        may it be snatched by the thick darkness of death’s realm,
    Never to be released again for any year or any month—
        so my conception and life could never have happened.
⁷     May that night prove infertile,
        and may no moan of pleasure be heard there.
⁸     Bring out the enchanters, the diviners who cast their spells on the day—
        who can awaken that beast, Leviathan—
⁹     And may the early-morning stars be extinguished.
        Let the day wait for a light that won’t ever come,
    And may it never see the eyelids of dawn crack open.
¹⁰     Because it neither closed the door of my mother’s womb
        nor covered my eyes to these sorrows.

¹¹ Job: Why did I not die at my birth,
        simply pass from the womb into death?
¹²     Why did my mother’s lap welcome me,
        and why did her breasts nourish me?
¹³     If I had died, then I would now be reposed in quiet;
        I would be sleeping in peace,
¹⁴     Resting with kings and their earthly ministers
        who rebuilt ruined cities to glorify themselves,
¹⁵     With princes who possessed gold,
        whose houses swelled with silver.
¹⁶     Why was I not buried in secret as a baby born still,
        as a newborn who never saw light?
¹⁷     In the sleep of death, the wicked can do no more damage;
        the weary ones at last find rest.
¹⁸     In death the captives are freed, together at ease,
        and the shouts of their oppressors die along with them.
¹⁹     In the grave, together are the small and great,
        and slaves from masters are emancipated.

²⁰     Why is light awarded to those distressed,
        and life given to embittered souls
²¹     Who long for a death that can’t be found,
        though they mine the earth to find it
    More than hidden veins of riches—
²²     Who would be overjoyed and glad
        when they find the grave?
²³     Why is light wasted on the earthbound,
        who cannot find their way and whom God has surrounded?
²⁴     For I groan before every meal;
        my moaning flows like water.
²⁵     What I feared most descends on me;
        my nightmare—now reality.
²⁶     I have no peace; I have no quiet;
        my resting, gone, has turned to riot.