7 Most Powerful Penitential Psalms for Meditation During Lent
Christians must take seriously their Tradition and what has been handed down to them throughout the centuries by way of apostolic succession. Tradition is the pearl of our Faith, what links us to the great Saints, doctors of the Church, and to the very Apostles of Christ themselves.
Speaking of Tradition, there exists an ancient tradition of the Church which involves meditating on seven particular Psalms called “the Penitential Psalms” during Lent. They carry this title because of their spiritual themes of sin, penance, and subsequent conversion. It is believed that meditation upon these seven Psalms dates back to the 7th century … and has, by divine power, persisted ever since.
If you are looking to take your Lent this year to new spiritual heights, spend some time meditating on these 7 most powerful Penitential Psalms of history — the cries of prayer from the early Saints that carried some of the greatest to their highest levels of sanctity and spiritual heights during Lent and beyond.
Below you will find an abridged version of each of the 7 Penitential Psalms, stanzas which express the deepest sorrow for sins committed against our Good and Holy God, as well as a meditation. As you prayerfully contemplate these 7 Most Powerful Penitential Psalms for Meditation During Lent, take comfort in knowing that you are praying alongside the great spiritual Giants of the Christian faith.
7 Most Powerful Penitential Psalms for Meditation During Lent
Before you begin, take a moment to center your mind, heart, and soul. Remind yourself Who you are about to pray to and commune with — your Heavenly Father in Heaven.
Psalm 6
(Douay-Rheims version)
O Lord, rebuke me not in Thy indignation, nor chastise me in Thy wrath.
Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am weak: heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled.
And my soul is troubled exceedingly: but Thou, O Lord, how long?
Turn to me, O Lord, and deliver my soul: O save me for Thy mercy’s sake.
For there is no one in death, that is mindful of Thee: and who shall confess to Thee in hell?
I have laboured in my groanings, every night I will wash my bed: I will water my couch with my tears.
My eye is troubled through indignation: I have grown old amongst all my enemies.
Depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity: for the Lord hath heard the voice of my weeping.
The Lord hath heard my supplication: the Lord hath received my prayer.
Psalm 6 Meditation
[inspired by the USCCB’s meditations]
Eyes wide open and looking into the mirror of self-reflection and humility, the Psalmist readily admits his sin and begs God’s mercy. Sin, whether mortal or venial, darkens the human vision and alienates the soul from God. But a part of sin’s greatest danger perhaps is its ability to make us doubt God’s love and willingness to forgive when we are truly repentant. This is the psalmist’s saving grace — his refusal to let sin drive that wedge between him and his Father; in fact, it’s his painful awareness of his sin that draws the psalmist nearer to Him. We often think we can only approach God when we’re “good” and have our lives in order. But it is sin God rejects, not the sinner. The psalmist knows that if he were to wait for a “worthy” time to pray, he never would. Likewise, we should never defer our prayer in waiting for a perfect time. Rather, Holy Scripture tells us to pray unceasingly and especially when there is a need … and need is greatest when we are mired in sin. Lent is a great time for our own self-reflection in humility; to lay our souls bare before God.
In His mercy, God does not spare us the consequence of our sin. In order to spur us in prayer and draw us closer when we might otherwise sulk or hide, God permits sin to impact our lives. Sin’s consequence is not God’s punishment, but the natural result of our decisions that, in His love, God uses for good (if we allow Him). In Psalm 6, the Psalmist is well aware that his sin has brought both physical distress as well as the attack of enemies into his life. Yet he prays unashamedly to his Father in Heaven. As a child who has disregarded a parent’s injunction to not venture far from home comes running back when the playground bully begins to threaten, the psalmist knows where his Home is. He knows where to find the strong arms and loving embrace of a God who eventually would send His own Son to save us—not when we were finally worthy, but while we were still steeped in sin.
*End your reflection and prayer with one Our Father, one Hail Mary, and one Glory Be in gratitude, love, and repentance.
Psalm 32
(NASB version)
How blessed is he whose wrongdoing is forgiven,
whose sin is covered!
How blessed is a person whose guilt the Lord does not take into account,
and in whose spirit there is no deceit!
When I kept silent about my sin, my body wasted away
through my groaning all day long.
For day and night Your hand was heavy upon me;
my vitality failed as with the dry heat of summer. Selah
I acknowledged my sin to You,
and I did not hide my guilt;
I said, “I will confess my wrongdoings to the Lord”;
and You forgave the guilt of my sin. Selah
Therefore, let everyone who is godly pray to You in a time when You may be found;
certainly in a flood of great waters, they will not reach him.
You are my hiding place; You keep me from trouble;
You surround me with songs of deliverance. Selah
I will instruct you and teach you in the way which you should go;
I will advise you with My eye upon you [says the Lord].
Do not be like the horse or like the mule, which have no understanding,
whose trappings include bit and bridle to hold them in check,
Otherwise they will not come near to you.
The sorrows of the wicked are many,
but the one who trusts in the Lord, goodness will surround him.
Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, you righteous ones;
and shout for joy, all you who are upright in heart.
Psalm 32 Meditation
[inspired by the USCCB’s meditations]
Sin is inevitable. Because man falls short of the glory of God (due to original sin), and because sin abounds in the world (though divine grace abounds more!), it is inevitable that we humans will fall into sin. But our faith reminds us that sin is not the final word — and the author of this Psalm knows this truth well.
The Psalms have endured for millennia because they are so personal and real in their human experience, emotion, and plight. They name our human experience because they themselves come from that shared and lived experience. The author grasps the deep truth of the old maxim, “Confession is good for the soul.” He understands the value of confession because he first tried to resist it. He hid his faults, sealed his heart and lips and would not speak his sins, but the result was agony and groaning all the day. Because he “kept silent,” his “bones wasted away.” O would that we, too, feel the weight of our sins upon us! Would that they also drive us to our knees so we, too, could experience the grace, freedom, and joy the psalmist finds through confession at last!
Finally, he says to the Lord: “I declared my sin to You; my guilt I did not hide.” And rather than shame, the psalmist finds relief and consolation. Read again the opening line: “Blessed is the one whose fault is removed, whose sin is forgiven.” Notice that blessing is given not to the blameless or the sinless (they don’t exist!), but to the sinner who, through confession, has had his sin removed. What’s more, in the Bible, the removal of sin (in our day by way of the sacrament of reconciliation) removes the effects of sin on us. That’s why the psalmist’s frustration, fading enthusiasm, and loss of joy vanish the moment he experiences God’s mercy.
Thus every faithful person should pray to God, the Psalmist says, because God longs to shelter us and surround us with shouts of joy. But sin remains inevitable … and because we are so often “dumb as oxen and stubborn as mules,” God admonishes us to be docile and humble, putting our trust in Him so He can shower His mercy on us when we repent.
*End your reflection and prayer with one Our Father, one Hail Mary, and one Glory Be in gratitude, love, and repentance.
Psalm 38
(NASB version)
Lord, do not rebuke me in Your wrath,
and do not punish me in Your burning anger.
For Your arrows have sunk deep into me,
and Your hand has pressed down on me.
There is no healthy part in my flesh because of Your indignation;
there is no health in my bones because of my sin.
For my guilty deeds have gone over my head;
like a heavy burden they weigh too much for me.
My wounds grow foul and fester
because of my foolishness.
I am bent over and greatly bowed down;
I go in mourning all day long.
For my sides are filled with burning,
and there is no healthy part in my flesh.
I feel faint and badly crushed;
I groan because of the agitation of my heart.
Lord, all my desire is before You;
and my sighing is not hidden from You.
My heart throbs, my strength fails me;
and the light of my eyes, even that has gone from me.
My loved ones and my friends stand aloof from my plague;
and my kinsmen stand far away.
Those who seek my life lay snares for me;
and those who seek to injure me have threatened destruction,
and they plot deception all day long.
But I, like a person who is deaf, do not hear;
and I am like a person who cannot speak, who does not open his mouth.
Yes, I am like a person who does not hear,
and in whose mouth are no arguments.
For I wait for You, Lord;
You will answer, Lord my God.
For I said, “May they not rejoice over me,
who, when my foot slips, would exalt themselves over me.”
For I am ready to fall,
and my sorrow is continually before me.
For I admit my guilt;
I am full of anxiety because of my sin.
But my enemies are vigorous and strong,
and those who wrongfully hate me are many.
And those who repay evil for good,
they become my enemies, because I follow what is good.
Do not abandon me, Lord;
my God, do not be far from me!
Hurry to help me,
Lord, my salvation!
Psalm 38 Meditation
[inspired by the USCCB’s meditations]
We often use metaphors to describe sin and its effects on us and in our lives. Metaphors give a shape and a sound to sin. They make it visible and tangible and help us recognize and name the insidious impact it has on us. Because the diagnosis had not yet been made, the ancients couldn’t use the most powerful metaphor for sin that we have today: cancer. But they surely knew enough of the malignancy we call sin to speak of it as a sickness that robs the body of “health” and “wholesomeness.” They understood that sin gets deep inside of us, penetrating even to the bone. They realized that sin spreads, that it is a silent killer moving often undetected to the farthest reaches of our beings, making itself at home as it consumes its home from the inside out.
Today, we don’t speak so graphically about sin. In fact, we hardly hear it professed from the pulpit today. We tend to psychologize it, hide it, and even explain it away. We see ourselves more as victims than as sinners; as wounded, misunderstood “nice-guys” who are doing the best we can. We don’t sin; we just make mistakes.
But that’s not the way the psalmist saw it; and that’s not the way our Faith describes it, nor the way God Himself sees it. Thus, the Psalmist makes no excuses and seeks no place to hide. He knows that sin has taken up residence inside of him. The evidence of sin’s effects is all around him: his body is failing; his mind is troubled; his spirit is in turmoil. And in addition to this internal misery, he is also afflicted from without — “enemies” have set traps for him and lie in wait; and his friends and neighbors have shunned him.
All this the psalmist sees as God’s punishment. But the “punishment” is not arbitrary or random. No, it is a consequence of sin that flows directly from his own actions. The situations in which he (the Psalmist) finds himself were not knotted together by God the way an overlord might fashion a whip to chastise a rebellious servant. Rather, the Psalmist knows that he is the one who made the whip, tied the knots, and attached the bone chips that will tear his flesh when he is flogged with the consequences of his own free choices and actions.
But let us not forget the Psalms are prayers, not the rantings of hopeless sinners with no victory. The psalmist has shut his mouth and raised his arms in surrender because he in himself lacks a remedy for all his ills. He has no excuses and can make no self-defense. And so he turns to the only place he can — the merciful God to whom he can say in confidence, “Do not forsake me … help me, my Lord and my salvation!” That’s the genius of the Psalms. The goodness of God shines all the brighter when human frailty is not hidden but openly admitted. It’s when we face the darkness of our sin, that only the Light of God’s merciful love can shine brightest.
*End your reflection and prayer with one Our Father, one Hail Mary, and one Glory Be in gratitude, love, and repentance.
Psalm 51
(NASB version)
Be gracious to me, God, according to Your faithfulness;
according to the greatness of Your compassion, wipe out my wrongdoings.
Wash me thoroughly from my guilt
and cleanse me from my sin.
For I know my wrongdoings,
and my sin is constantly before me.
Against You, You only, I have sinned
and done what is evil in Your sight,
so that You are justified when You speak
and blameless when You judge.
Behold, I was brought forth in guilt,
and in sin my mother conceived me.
Behold, You desire truth in the innermost being,
and in secret You will make wisdom known to me.
Purify me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
cleanse me, and I will be whiter than snow.
Let me hear joy and gladness,
let the bones You have broken rejoice.
Hide Your face from my sins
and wipe out all my guilty deeds.
Create in me a clean heart, God,
and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from Your presence,
and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of Your salvation,
and sustain me with a willing spirit.
Then I will teach wrongdoers Your ways,
and sinners will be converted to You.
Save me from the guilt of bloodshed, God, the God of my salvation;
then my tongue will joyfully sing of Your righteousness.
Lord, open my lips,
so that my mouth may declare Your praise.
For You do not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it;
You do not take pleasure in burnt offering.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
a broken and a contrite heart, God, You will not despise.
Psalm 51 Meditation
[inspired by the USCCB’s meditations]
It is the sentiment King David expresses here that assured his greatness; that set him apart from his predecessor, Saul, and that enables him to stand tall among the great heroes of the past despite the grave sin that sat at the heart of this lament.
Miserere… it begins: “Have mercy, God, in accordance with your merciful love.” From the start, the author, King David, does two things at once: first, he admits his sinfulness; second, he relies solely on God’s mercy. He does not rely on previous good deeds or on any extenuating circumstances. He is guilty, and he knows only God’s mercy can save him.
David’s sin will have far-reaching consequences. The nation itself will pay for the crimes of their king just as children often suffer for the sins of their parents, employees for the sins of their bosses, and citizens and parishioners for the sins of their leaders.
David has committed adultery with Bathsheba and covered up his sin by ordering the murder of her husband. The prophet Nathan has confronted him with his crime, so now David has nowhere to hide. But David’s contrast with his royal predecessor is starkly evident. King Saul hadn’t succumbed to temptations of the flesh; he had stopped trusting God. He turned to divination and to mediums, rather than to God, to guarantee his future, so God “repented” of choosing Saul as king. Having lost God’s confidence and hearing of his son’s death, Saul despairs and falls upon his own sword.
And then there’s David. Nathan presents David’s own story to him as a hypothetical, asking the king’s judgment. The ploy works and David unwittingly declares his own crimes to be worthy of death. But when he’s identified as the guilty party, David readily admits his guilt and accepts responsibility. And instead of falling on his sword, David falls to his knees and begs for God’s mercy. Saul and David both shed light on one of the great truths of Christian faith — God will forgive any sin for which we are truly sorry and repentant.
But that’s not really as easy as it sounds, is it? Those who think “It’s not fair that some can sin their whole life through, then say a quick “I’m sorry” on their deathbed and thereby sneak through Heaven’s gates!” can take comfort (if such a thing is comfort) in the knowledge that it’s really very difficult to turn our lives around all at once, especially at the very end. Saul couldn’t do it. Fortunately, David did not have to because he practiced repentance throughout his life — building that strength and virtue through God’s grace. Deathbed confessions are the exception, and should never be the norm. The Psalms show us the better way. We must recognize our sinfulness and practice repentance throughout the time we have in this life; the time God has allotted to us to repent. And if we do, rest assured that it will not be hard to say I’m sorry, Lord —and to mean it—when we have reached the end.
*End your reflection and prayer with one Our Father, one Hail Mary, and one Glory Be in gratitude, love, and repentance.
Psalm 102
(NASB version)
Hear my prayer, Lord!
And let my cry for help come to You.
Do not hide Your face from me on the day of my distress;
incline Your ear to me;
On the day when I call answer me quickly.
For my days have ended in smoke,
and my bones have been scorched like a hearth.
My heart has been struck like grass and has withered,
indeed, I forget to eat my bread.
Because of the loudness of my groaning
my bones cling to my flesh.
I resemble a pelican of the wilderness;
I have become like an owl of the ruins.
I lie awake,
I have become like a solitary bird on a housetop.
My enemies have taunted me all day long;
Those who deride me have used my name as a curse.
For I have eaten ashes like bread,
and mixed my drink with weeping
because of Your indignation and Your wrath;
for You have lifted me up and thrown me away.
My days are like a lengthened shadow,
and I wither away like grass.
But You, Lord, remain forever,
and Your Name remains to all generations.
So the nations will fear the name of the Lord,
and all the kings of the earth, Your glory.
He has turned His attention to the prayer of the destitute
and has not despised their prayer.
This will be written for the generation to come,
that a people yet to be created may praise the Lord:
for He looked down from His holy height;
from Heaven the Lord looked upon the earth,
to hear the groaning of the prisoner,
to set free those who were doomed to death …
He has broken my strength in the way;
He has shortened my days.
I say, “My God, do not take me away in the middle of my days,
Your years are throughout all generations.
In time of old You founded the earth,
and the heavens are the work of Your hands.
Even they will perish, but You endure;
all of them will wear out like a garment;
like clothing You will change them and they will pass away.
But You are the same,
and Your years will not come to an end.
The children of Your servants will continue,
and their descendants will be established before You.”
Psalm 102 Meditation
[inspired by the USCCB’s meditations]
We live in far more sterile and “politically correct” times than did the Psalmist. Today, heads would wag if we composed such prayers as this today. Notice the number of imperatives to God within the first six lines: “hear my prayer,” “let my cry come,” “do not hide Your face,” “turn Your ear to me.” But the more striking difference between then and now is not the confidence and audacity of these verses, but the psalmist’s willingness to admit his sin and abandon all excuses. Today, we prefer euphemisms and so “sins” become “mistakes,” “indiscretions,” “errors,” “slip-up,” “problems,” etc. Yeah, not so with the Psalmist. The psalmist begs for mercy and makes no excuses; and this required a full admission of sin. He begs to be spared the consequences that flow from his sins and thus cannot deny having committed them.
It is said that when he was dying, St. Augustine asked that the Psalms be hung from the wall facing his bed. Famous for his years of flagrant sinning, Augustine sought the comfort of the Psalms as he prepared to meet God face-to-face. The Psalms ought to give us courage and confidence as we reflect on our own lives and on the struggles, sins, and “enemies” that afflict us. They teach us to plead without restraint, to hold nothing back in begging for God’s mercy. I’m “skin and bones,” says the Psalmist. “I am like a desert owl, like an owl among the ruins” whose mournful cry and solitary life make it the very emblem of desolation. Such talk is not born of arrogance or overconfidence, but from a deep conviction that God is merciful and loves us like a parent — always waiting earnestly and mercifully for our repentant spirit to come forth.
It will be this same spirit that will one day overwhelm the nations and fill them with awe. They will have no choice but to glorify God when they see the marvel of His merciful love. It’s that conviction that enables the Psalmist to ask that God not end his life too soon, and to let his children and their children stand before him in peace. The Psalmist’s truthful and humble conviction must also be ours. Knowing that Jesus also prayed these Psalms, we can in confidence make these words of prayer our own; turning toward the Lord with reverence and a contrite and sincere heart.
*End your reflection and prayer with one Our Father, one Hail Mary, and one Glory Be in gratitude, love, and repentance.
Psalm 130
(NASB version)
Out of the depths I have cried to You, Lord.
Lord, hear my voice!
Let Your ears be attentive
to the sound of my pleadings.
If You, Lord, were to keep account of guilty deeds,
who could stand?
But there is forgiveness with You,
so that You may be revered.
I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and I wait for His Word.
My soul waits in hope for the Lord
more than the watchmen for the morning;
yes, more than the watchmen for the morning.
[W]ait for the Lord;
for with the Lord there is mercy,
and with Him is abundant redemption.
Psalm 130 Meditation
[inspired by the USCCB’s meditations]
We most often hear this Psalm at times of mourning, when we bury our dearly departed. It is in that context that our earnest prayer expresses the need for God’s mercy — particularly on the deceased — praying for God to toss aside the ledger of the person’s sins and judge instead out of His bountiful mercy and compassion.
But for centuries the Church has presented this as a preeminent prayer for sinners who feel the weight of the burden they have brought upon themselves, of those who feel like they’ve sunk to the depths of the sea, a place of chaos and alienation due to sin. Imagine yourself engulfed in violent waters, dragged to the bottom amidst swirling eddies of turgid water with nothing to grasp, no light to find your bearings, sinking ever deeper into cold and murky darkness. That is the premise of this brief Psalm which does overtly what all the Penitential Psalms seek to do — invite us to join the Psalmist in turning to the Lord to confess our sins and beg His mercy while there’s still time.
But note also that a part of this Psalm expresses the psalmist’s sincere hope, his stalwart trust in God who is indeed mercy and redemption. The Psalmist models the attitude of a sincere penitent — he doesn’t deny or hide his sin for he knows God is more mercy than vengeance. He (the Psalmist) hopes sincerely that dawn will bring the light of mercy, a word of hope, the healing rain of redemption. He is hopeful, as all Christians should be. At the Easter Vigil we sing “O happy fault; O necessary sin of Adam” referring to the trespass that brought about the Incarnation and our merciful salvation in Christ. The words “O happy fault” could issue only from the mouth of one who, like the Psalmist, understands that where sin abounds, grace and mercy abound the more.
*End your reflection and prayer with one Our Father, one Hail Mary, and one Glory Be in gratitude, love, and repentance.
Psalm 143
(NASB version)
Hear my prayer, Lord,
listen to my pleadings!
Answer me in Your faithfulness, in Your righteousness!
And do not enter into judgment with Your servant,
for no person living is righteous in Your sight.
For the enemy has persecuted my soul;
he has crushed my life to the ground;
he has made me dwell in dark places, like those who have long been dead.
Therefore my spirit feels weak within me;
my heart is appalled within me.
I remember the days of old;
I meditate on all Your accomplishments;
I reflect on the work of Your hands.
I spread out my hands to You;
my soul longs for You, like a weary land. Selah
Answer me quickly, Lord, my spirit fails;
do not hide Your face from me,
or I will be the same as those who go down to the pit.
Let me hear Your faithfulness in the morning,
for I trust in You;
teach me the way in which I should walk;
for to You I lift up my soul.
Save me, Lord, from my enemies;
I take refuge in You.
Teach me to do Your will,
for You are my God;
Let Your good Spirit lead me on level ground.
For the sake of Your Name, Lord, revive me.
In Your righteousness bring my soul out of trouble.
And in Your faithfulness, destroy my enemies,
and eliminate all those who attack my soul,
for I am Your servant.
Psalm 143 Meditation
[inspired by the USCCB’s meditations]
Mature spirituality requires good memory. The prophets of the Old Testament were forever admonishing the people to “remember” the merciful deeds of the Lord. Eventually, the Hebrew people became known as “People of the Book,” because Sacred Scripture became their corporate memory, their assurance that, despite their feeble day-to-day memories, as a people they would never forget the goodness of God. The story of God’s dealings with Israel is less a record of what God did and more a portrait of who God is. The Psalmist, mindful of God’s past mercy, turns to God with those memories alive in heart. His soul is parched, but he remembers God’s promise, spoken through Isaiah, to make parched land exalt and to coax blooms from the desert.
Evil enemies have prevailed against the Psalmist and he knows that alone he cannot stand. So he turns to God, acknowledging no human can claim to be just in God’s sight. So, he relies not on his own worthiness but on God’s compassion. Because from “days of old” God has been Israel’s Savior, the Psalmist can plead for mercy once again. The prayer is blunt and refreshingly human. “Rescue me,” it says. Don’t let me fall into the pit of depression; “put an end to my foes,” it pleads, “for I am your servant.” Knowing God and belonging to Him apparently gives one the right to ask for God’s protection; to cling to God, and hide within His robes; to expect the Lord, like a good big brother, to go out and dispatch the bullies who threaten us.
But notice that the plea is not all one sided: the Psalmist asks God to “Show me the path I should walk” and “Teach me to do Your will;” and he seeks the guidance of God’s Spirit. He wants to do better, but first he needs relief. In biblical spirituality, asking forgiveness of sin was also a request for the removal of sin’s consequences. The psalmist is saying: “My misfortune flows from my sin; so forgive me, Lord, and deliver me from this distress.“ It is a simple formula that has never been annulled: we, too, can—in fact we must—turn unashamedly to God and say, ”I am Your unworthy servant, O God, but in Your goodness save me; save me from my sins and from the malice of my foes.” And from there, we vow to amend our lives in conformity with Christ’s. We pick up our Cross, turn from sin, and follow Him. Amen.
*End your reflection and prayer with one Our Father, one Hail Mary, and one Glory Be in gratitude, love, and repentance.
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