NeuroDivine

Rhythms of Presence in Prayer, Preparation, and Witness

Psalm 119:105–128 | 1 Maccabees 3:42–60 | Mark 15:33–41 | RB Chapter 18

There are days when the lectionary and the Rule seem to conspire gently, offering not answers but a rhythm to inhabit. October 22 is one such day. The psalmist speaks of a lamp, not a blaze. The Maccabees prepare for battle, not with noise but with prayer. And the women at the cross do not intervene—they stay.

Psalm 119 offers a voice of wearied fidelity. “Your word is a lamp to my feet,” not a torch to banish all shadow. The psalmist walks slowly, choosing trust over triumph. There is no rush to resolution, only a plea for understanding, for mercy, for the courage to keep walking. This is not the language of victory—it is the language of presence.

In 1 Maccabees, Judas and his companions face annihilation. Their grief is not hidden. “How shall we be able to stand before them?” they ask. But they do not flee. They fast, they pray, they remember the sanctuary. Their courage is not in numbers or weapons, but in reverence. They prepare not only their bodies but their liturgy. The sanctuary is not a distant memory—it is a living anchor.

Mark’s Gospel brings us to the cross. Jesus cries out. The veil is torn. And the women remain. Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome are not strategists or soldiers. They are witnesses. Their courage is not in action but in accompaniment. They do not fix the moment—they honour it.

And then, quietly, the Rule of St Benedict offers its own kind of bravery. Chapter 18 outlines the order of the psalms—not as a reaction to crisis, but as a rhythm of trust. “Incline unto my aid, O God; O Lord, make haste to help me,” begins each Hour. Not in panic, but in steadiness. The psalms are divided, returned to, paced. Psalm 118 (Hebrew 119) is not rushed through—it is lived with. This is the courage of repetition, of showing up, of letting the words shape us slowly.

Together, these texts offer a theology of staying. Of preparing. Of praying not because we are strong, but because we are held. Whether we are facing battle, bereavement, or the quiet discipline of Prime, Terce, Sext, and None, we are invited to remain. To remember. To witness.

The lamp is lit. The sanctuary is invoked. The veil is torn. And the psalms are still being said.