Psalm 46 is a journey from the epicenter of fear to the very heart of God’s presence. It teaches us that true security is not found in favorable circumstances. The earth will shake, and the nations will roar. The key is whether God is “in the midst” – emphasizes Fr. Piotr Kwiatek, a Capuchin friar, doctor of psychology, and initiator of psalm therapy, in the Heschel Center’s commentary on the psalm sung on Sunday, November 9.
As Fr. Kwiatek points out, “our task is not to silence the whole world, but to find within ourselves that inner river of peace. We do not need to win every battle. We only need to know when to lay down our weapons and let God be God.”
When the earth shakes
The psalm commentator for the Heschel Center writes that “there are moments when the earth truly trembles beneath our feet. An actual seismic earthquake is not required. All it takes is a phone call with bad news, a headline on a news portal that freezes your blood, or a quiet panic that grips you in the middle of the night when you realize the fragility of everything you have built.”
Psalm 46 is the song of people who have experienced something similar. It resounds with the assurance that God is our refuge and strength. These words are not cheap consolation, but the testimony that “grace can transform even the deepest family wounds into a foundation of faith harder than rock.” It is “a hymn of those who do not flee from reality but learn to find God at its very center. True strength, the psalmist seems to say, does not lie in eliminating storms from our lives, but in building an inner fortress that can withstand any tempest.” It is “a lesson whose ultimate fulfillment is found in Jesus.”
A fortress in the epicenter of fear
The psalmist describes extremely difficult experiences symbolized by earthquakes and collapsing mountains. Fr. Kwiatek notes that “the background of this psalm may have been the dramatic siege of Jerusalem by the Assyrian king Sennacherib in 701 B.C.” In the psalm, however, we find faith built on experience: “God saved us yesterday, so He will not abandon us today.”
As Fr. Piotr Kwiatek observes, Aaron Beck, one of the fathers of cognitive-behavioral therapy, noted that “our suffering results not so much from the facts themselves as from our interpretation of those facts.” Psalm 46 is not an invitation to escape problems, but to “find within yourself that inner place of silence, that ‘sanctuary’ where I meet Him face to face.”
A river that cannot be found on maps
“The external world may roar and foam in fury, but within there is a quiet stream that brings peace, joy, and life,” writes Fr. Kwiatek, referring to the symbol of the river that quite unexpectedly appears in the psalm. “Rabbinic tradition in Midrash Tehillim interprets this river as the streams of the wisdom of the Torah, which bring true joy. When you feel flooded by a wave of fear, this verse invites you to immerse yourself in your inner sanctuary. Find that quiet river in prayer, in the Word, in silence—it is there, even if drowned out by the external storm.”
Lay down your weapons and let God be God
“The climax of the psalm is one of the most powerful and, paradoxically, most therapeutic calls in the entire Bible: ‘Be still and know that I am God,’” writes the Capuchin friar. “This is not a call to passive resignation, but to a radical act of will. Lay down the weapons of your fear. Surrender the arms of constant control, perfectionism, worry, and feverish attempts to fix everything on your own. Stop fighting for control over what is already beyond your reach.”
“Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote that true knowledge of God is not the result of study, but the fruit of stopping. When we stop speaking to let Him speak. When we stop acting to let Him act. This is mystical passivity, which is, in essence, the deepest form of activity—opening oneself to His presence and power,” notes Fr. Kwiatek.
Emmanuel – God with us
“For us Christians, He, Emmanuel – God with us – has a concrete name: Jesus Christ. It is He who, with the words ‘Quiet! Be still!’ showed His authority over every chaos. And it is He who gave us the ultimate certainty: ‘I have overcome the world.’ In Him we can finally calm down and know that God is God. Not someday, not somewhere far away, but here and now. In the midst of our lives,” concludes Fr. Piotr Kwiatek.
Fr. Piotr Kwiatek OFMCap – doctor of psychology, priest, and friar of the Kraków Province of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin. He completed a three-year Gestalt therapy program in Philadelphia (USA). He also underwent training at the Albert Ellis Institute in Rational-Emotive Behavioral Therapy (REBT) in New York. He teaches positive interventions at SWPS University – studies recommended by the founder of positive psychology, Prof. Martin E.P. Seligman.
He is the author of books from the positive psychology and faith series, as well as “Psalm Therapy” and “Workbook for the Psalms.” Creator of the free “Dobroteka 2.0” app enhancing well-being, more at: www.piotrkwiatek.com
Heschel Center KUL
We publish the full text of the commentary
Existential Commentary on the Psalm
from the liturgy of the day for Sunday, 09.XI.2025 (Psalm 46)
Fr. Piotr Kwiatek OFMCap
Prayer in the very heart of chaos
There are moments when the earth truly trembles beneath our feet. An actual seismic earthquake is not required. All it takes is a phone call with bad news, a headline on a news portal that freezes your blood, or a quiet panic that grips you in the middle of the night when you realize the fragility of everything you have built. The world roars with anxiety, and we along with it. We feel like an ancient Israelite – powerless in the face of forces that seem to overwhelm us.
And it is precisely in such moments that the liturgy places Psalm 46 before us, the song of people who experienced something similar. Its authors, the sons of Korah, carried within themselves the memory of the rebellion and downfall of their ancestors, and yet they were able to write words that sound like a manifesto of unshakable hope: “God is our refuge and strength.” This is not cheap consolation, but testimony that grace can transform even the deepest family wounds into a foundation of faith harder than rock. This psalm is a hymn of those who do not flee from reality, but learn to find God in its very midst. True strength, the psalmist seems to say, does not lie in eliminating storms from our lives, but in building an inner fortress that can withstand any tempest.
This is a lesson whose ultimate fulfillment is found in Jesus. He, who with one word silenced the raging waves, is Himself our Emmanuel – God with us. In His promise, “I am with you always,” we find the foundation of a peace that surpasses all human understanding.
1. A fortress in the epicenter of fear
The psalmist does not soften his language. He begins with an image of total apocalypse: “the earth quakes, and the mountains fall into the depths of the sea.” This echoes a fear we know all too well. Mountains in biblical thought symbolize what is most lasting and stable. When they collapse, it means that everything that gave us a sense of security has fallen apart. Work, health, relationships, the social order we once knew—all of these can be our personal “mountains.”
Historians suspect that the background of this psalm may have been the dramatic siege of Jerusalem by the Assyrian king Sennacherib in 701 B.C. A situation humanly hopeless. The city surrounded by the greatest military power of its time. And it is precisely then, in the epicenter of fear, that this incredible declaration is made: “God is our refuge (מַחֲסֶה - machaseh) and strength (עֹז - oz).” And most importantly, “a very present help in trouble.” The Hebrew word עֶזְרָה - ezrah is not a promise for the future, but help already proven, tested in battle. Faith built on experience: God saved us yesterday, so He will not abandon us today.
Aaron Beck, one of the fathers of cognitive-behavioral therapy, observed that our suffering comes less from the facts themselves and more from our interpretation of those facts. Psalm 46 is a brilliant lesson in reinterpretation: the world may collapse, but God stands unshaken. If He is my center, then even waves of chaos will not drown my soul. This is not an invitation to escape from problems, but to find within yourself that inner place of silence, that “sanctuary” where you meet Him face to face.
2. A river that cannot be found on maps
Amid images of the raging sea, the psalmist suddenly introduces a breathtaking contrast: “There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God.” Anyone familiar with the geography of Jerusalem knows that the city is not located by any major river. This is not a mistake. This river is a symbol—an inexhaustible, life-giving source of God’s presence flowing in the heart of the community and in the heart of each of us.
The external world may roar and foam in fury, but within there is a quiet stream that brings peace, joy, and life. Rabbinic tradition in Midrash Tehillim interprets this river as the streams of the wisdom of the Torah, which bring true joy. When you feel overwhelmed by a wave of anxiety, this verse invites you to immerse yourself in your inner sanctuary. Find that quiet river in prayer, in the Word, in silence—it is there, even if drowned out by the external storm. It is this river that makes the city—your heart—“not be moved, because God is in its midst” (Ps 46:6). The Church interprets it as an image of grace, the sacraments, and above all the Holy Spirit. It is the same water Jesus spoke of when He cried out: “If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink! As Scripture says: Streams of living water will flow from within him” (Jn 7:37–38). This river flows from within, not from without.
When you feel overwhelmed by a wave of fear, the psalm invites you to immerse yourself in this inner sanctuary. Find that quiet river in prayer, in the Word of Scripture, in a moment of silence. It is there, even if drowned out by the noise of the world. It is this river that makes the city—your heart, your community, the Church—“not be moved, for God is in its midst.” Not somewhere outside, not in mighty walls, but within.
3. Lay down your weapons and let God be God
The climax of the psalm is one of the most powerful and, paradoxically, most therapeutic calls in the entire Bible: “Be still and know that I am God” (in some translations: “Calm yourselves and know that I am God”). The Hebrew word רָפָה - raphah, used here, has a much stronger, almost military tone. It means: “drop your weapons!”, “stop fighting!”, “loosen your grip!” This is not a call to passive resignation, but to a radical act of will. Lay down the weapons of your fear. Surrender the arms of constant control, perfectionism, worry, and feverish efforts to fix everything yourself. Stop fighting for control over what is already beyond your reach.
And then, “know.” The Hebrew יָדַע - yada’ is not intellectual or book knowledge, but intimate, experiential knowledge born of relationship. The same word describes the deepest marital union. It is not about knowing something about God, but about knowing Him in an act of union. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote that true knowledge of God is not the result of study, but the fruit of stopping. When we stop speaking to let Him speak. When we stop acting to let Him act. This is mystical passivity, which is in fact the deepest form of activity—opening ourselves to His presence and power.
A moment for personal reflection:
In what areas of my life are “mountains falling into the sea”? Where am I desperately trying to hold everything together by my own strength?
Do I truly believe that God is present in my chaos—not only outside it, waiting for things to calm down?
What “river” gives life to my inner world today? And what blocks its flow?
What would it mean for me, here and now, to “lay down my weapons and know that He is God”? What would I need to refrain from?
Am I able simply to be in silence? Without acting, without planning, without drowning it out with anything?
Invitation to practice: Become a witness
The psalm ends with the call: “Come and see the works of the Lord.” It is an invitation to become a witness. Try writing a short testimony—for yourself, in a journal—about one concrete “work of the Lord” in your life. About a moment when God truly intervened, rescued you, or changed a situation. Use concrete details: what happened, what you felt, how God revealed Himself. Telling about God’s deeds not only anchors faith but becomes an invitation for others: “Come, see what He has done in my life.”
Conclusion
Psalm 46 is a journey from the epicenter of fear to the very heart of God’s presence. It teaches us that true security is not found in favorable circumstances. The earth will shake, and the nations will roar. The key is whether God is “in the midst.” Our task is not to silence the whole world, but to find within ourselves that inner river of peace. We do not need to win every battle. We only need to know when to lay down our weapons and let God be God.
For us Christians, He, Emmanuel—God with us—has a concrete name: Jesus Christ. It is He who, with the words “Quiet, be still!” showed His authority over every chaos. And it is He who gave us the ultimate certainty: “I have overcome the world.” In Him we can finally calm down and know that God is God. Not someday, not somewhere far away, but here and now. In the midst of our lives.
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