NeuroDivine

Psalm 96 | Isaiah 14:3-20 | Matthew 9:18-34 | Rule of St Benedict Chapter 4

The Rule begins with a searching demand: mistakes in prayer must be acknowledged. It is not the stumble itself that matters most, but the willingness to bow low and admit fault. Worship is not a performance to be perfected but a posture of honesty before God and community. To refuse correction is to cling to pride, and pride, as Isaiah warns, is always destined to fall.

The prophet’s vision of Babylon’s king is stark. Once exalted, he is cast down to Sheol, mocked by those he oppressed. Grandeur collapses, leaving only emptiness. In the quiet of the dialysis chair, this image takes on a different hue. Here there is no grandeur, only dependence, patience, and endurance. Yet this dependence is not shameful; it is truth. The collapse of Babylon warns against the illusion of self‑sufficiency, while the rhythm of treatment teaches the grace of reliance.

Into this humility and dependence comes Christ, interruptible and merciful. In Matthew’s Gospel, he is stopped again and again—by a ruler pleading for his daughter, by a woman reaching out in desperation, by blind men crying for sight, by the mute longing for speech. Each interruption becomes the place of healing. Faith meets weakness, and Jesus responds. Dialysis is interruption too—plans paused, hours surrendered. Yet in that pause, healing is not absent. It may not be sudden or dramatic, but it is real: life sustained, presence renewed, hope carried forward.

And so the psalm gathers all these threads into song: “Sing to the Lord a new song.” Even tethered, even weary, creation sings with you. The seas roar, the fields exult, the trees shout for joy. The new song is not about perfect words or flawless rhythm; it is about faithful presence. To admit fault, to endure dependence, to trust interruption—these are themselves a hymn.

Thus Monday’s liturgy is not flawless but faithful. It begins in humility, passes through the collapse of pride, rests in Christ’s healing interruptions, and rises at last in praise. Even in weakness, the new song is sung.