His Loving Interest

A Reflection on the Psalm for January 30th, 2022:
The Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

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Psalm 71

R. My mouth will tell, O Lord, of your deeds of salvation.

In you, O Lord, I take refuge; let me never be put to shame. In your righteousness deliver me and rescue me; incline your ear to me and save me. 

R. My mouth will tell, O Lord, of your deeds of salvation.

Be to me a rock of refuge, a strong fortress, to save me, for you are my rock and my fortress. Rescue me, O my God, from the hand of the wicked. 

R. My mouth will tell, O Lord, of your deeds of salvation.

For you, O Lord, are my hope, my trust, O Lord, from my youth. Upon you I have leaned from my birth; from my mother’s womb you have been my strength. 

R. My mouth will tell, O Lord, of your deeds of salvation.

My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all day long. O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. 

R. My mouth will tell, O Lord, of your deeds of salvation.

Growing up in the centre of a small city provides plenty of opportunity for exercise. By the time I was 8 years old, I was walking to school, friends’ houses, Mass, playgrounds and the dentist all on my own. I loved the independence of choosing my own route, which included the occasional detour.


One of my favourite things to do after the dentist was visit with my grandfather. He lived in a bustling neighbourhood between the clinic and my elementary school, right across the street from a small supermarket and a bus stop. My grandfather was a social creature. Sometimes I would find him sitting on a bench with other senior gentlemen in the tiny park nearby, other times he’d be waiting at the bus stop or on his way to or from the supermarket. The place I remember seeing him most often was in his beautiful old house. I’d come through the storm porch door with the leaded windows and into the hallway calling, “Hi Poppy! Are you home?” He would walk through the french doors leading from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel, and say, “Yes, Child! Come in, come in!” (My grandfather called everyone “Child,” mostly because he had dozens and dozens of grandchildren and couldn’t recall their names immediately on sight but also because many children not related to him also called him Poppy out of respect, because he was very old.)


I loved these visits with my grandfather because he made me feel so welcome. Like other “youngest” children, I was not always listened to when I needed to be, but my grandfather was attentive. As he got older, his hearing was not all it used to be, so he would bend his ear toward us littler children — who didn’t realize that they should speak loudly — so that he could hear what they were saying. Today’s psalm reminded me of that: “incline your ear to me.”


Inclining the ear is an act of generosity and loving interest. It says, “I want to hear what you have to tell me.” That my grandfather cared what I had to say, that he made time for me despite the many other children who also called him Poppy, was an honour. He loved me.


God also loves me, with a purity that I try to imagine. He loves us all more than we can understand even though, compared to God, we are little. The psalmist relies on God’s loving attention and seeks out God’s salvation. We all need someone who sees and hears us, a balm and refuge from the pain of being ignored, dismissed, hurt. God saves us from all this.


Oh Lord, “from my youth you have taught me… My mouth will tell of your deeds of salvation.”




Donna Davis
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