Catholic Commentary
Opening Threefold Call to Thanksgiving
1Give thanks to Yahweh, for he is good, for his loving kindness endures forever.2Give thanks to the God of gods, for his loving kindness endures forever.3Give thanks to the Lord of lords, for his loving kindness endures forever;
Psalms 136:1–3 calls the assembly of Israel to publicly proclaim thanksgiving to Yahweh as the supreme God over all divine and earthly powers, grounded in his essential goodness. The three imperatives move from personal covenant relationship to universal cosmic sovereignty, establishing that all authority—whether heavenly or earthly—derives from and remains subject to God's absolute rule.
Thanksgiving is not a private feeling but a public declaration that God, not the self, is the center of all reality.
Psalms 136:1 — "Give thanks to Yahweh, for he is good"
The Hebrew verb hôdû (הוֹדוּ), rendered "give thanks," carries a richer weight than gratitude alone. It derives from yadah, which denotes public acknowledgment, confession, and praise before a community. To give thanks in this sense is not a private interior act but a proclamation—a liturgical declaration that something true is being confessed about the nature of God. The imperative mood is plural, indicating this is a summons addressed to the assembly of Israel at worship, almost certainly in the Jerusalem Temple. The Septuagint renders it Exomologeisthe, the same verb used in early Christian doxological formulas.
The reason given—"for he is good" (kî ṭôb)—is not merely an observation about God's behavior but a statement about his essence. Catholic interpreters following the Augustinian and Thomistic tradition understand this divine goodness not as one attribute among others but as identical with God's Being itself. St. Thomas Aquinas writes in the Summa Theologiae (I, q.6, a.3) that God is goodness itself (ipsa bonitas), not merely good by participation. The psalm thus opens with an ontological confession before it becomes a narrative one.
The original liturgical context of Psalm 136 (the "Great Hallel" in Jewish tradition) places it at the Passover Seder and at the evening Temple liturgy. Jesus himself would have prayed or sung these words. The Gospel of Mark (14:26) notes that after the Last Supper, Jesus and his disciples sang a hymn before going to the Mount of Olives—almost certainly Psalms 114–118 or this Great Hallel. These opening words, then, were among the last songs on the lips of Christ before his Passion.
Psalms 136:2 — "Give thanks to the God of gods"
The title Elohê hā-elohîm ("God of gods") employs a Hebrew superlative construction. It does not concede the existence of other genuine deities; rather, it asserts absolute supremacy over whatever beings or powers others might call divine—whether the gods of Egypt, Babylon, Canaan, or the spiritual powers referenced in apocalyptic literature. This is a polemical, monotheistic claim dressed in the grammar of hierarchy. The Deuteronomic tradition uses similar language (Deut 10:17), and it echoes throughout Israel's confession that Yahweh's incomparability is not merely one of degree but of kind.
Patristic commentators like Origen (Commentary on the Psalms) and St. Hilary of Poitiers saw this title as anticipating the Christian confession of the Trinity: the Father is Theos over all lesser "gods" (understood as angels and spiritual powers in Pauline cosmology, cf. 1 Cor 8:5–6), and yet the one true God is not diminished by this royal court language but glorified by it.
Psalms 136:3 — "Give thanks to the Lord of lords"
Adônê hā-adônîm ("Lord of lords") mirrors verse 2 but shifts from the domain of divine beings to the domain of earthly sovereignty. Every king, emperor, or ruler holds power only derivatively. This title will reappear in the New Testament applied explicitly to Christ (Rev 17:14; 19:16; 1 Tim 6:15), one of the most significant acts of Christological transference in the entire canon. What the psalmist proclaimed of Yahweh, the New Testament confesses of the risen Jesus—a theological move of extraordinary weight.
The Threefold Structure as a Theological Whole
The three invocations together form a deliberate ascending arc: from the personal covenantal name Yahweh (v.1), to universal divine sovereignty (v.2), to sovereignty over all earthly power (v.3). The movement is not from lesser to greater within God—God does not change—but from the intimate to the cosmic, drawing the worshiper's mind outward from personal covenant relationship to the recognition that this same God holds all of reality in his hands. The refrain that follows each verse in the full psalm ("for his mercy endures forever") anchors this cosmic lordship in the specific quality of hesed—covenantal loving-kindness—ensuring that divine power is never conceived apart from divine love.
Catholic tradition illuminates these verses in at least three distinctive ways.
1. The Identity of Divine Goodness and Being. The Church's philosophical tradition, rooted in Augustine and culminating in the Thomistic synthesis, insists that "God is good" is not an accidental predication. The Catechism of the Catholic Church (§41) teaches that God transcends all human concepts, yet Scripture rightly applies goodness to him in an eminent and analogical sense. What Psalm 136:1 confesses liturgically, the Church has unpacked philosophically: God does not have goodness—he is Goodness. This distinguishes Catholic interpretation from purely historical-critical approaches that reduce ṭôb to covenant faithfulness alone.
2. The Christological Fulfillment of Divine Titles. The transfer of "Lord of lords" to Jesus in Revelation and 1 Timothy represents the New Testament's most daring Christological claim. The Catechism (§446) explicitly teaches that the application of the title Kyrios (Lord) to Jesus is equivalent to affirming his divine identity, citing Philippians 2:9–11. Church Fathers, including St. Cyril of Alexandria and St. John Chrysostom, preached that Psalm 136 thus contains a hidden Christological prophecy: the Lord of lords is ultimately the incarnate Word.
3. Liturgical Theology and the Eucharist. The word hôdû corresponds in Greek to eucharistia in the liturgical tradition. St. Justin Martyr (First Apology, ch. 65) connects the act of thanksgiving (eucharistia) in Christian worship directly to the Psalms' pattern of todah (thanksgiving sacrifice). The Catholic liturgical tradition sees the Mass as the fulfillment of the todah offering—the great sacrifice of praise—making Psalm 136's opening call the deep background of every Eucharistic celebration. The General Instruction of the Roman Missal (§78) describes the Eucharistic Prayer itself as an act of thanksgiving and praise to God, the echoes of hôdû made flesh.
For a contemporary Catholic, these three verses pose a quietly radical challenge. We live in a culture that has domesticated gratitude into a wellness practice—a technique for positive affect—stripped of its liturgical and ontological content. The psalmist's hôdû is something different and more demanding: it is a public act of confession that God, not the self, is the center of reality. To pray these verses authentically is to practice what Josef Pieper called festivity—the recognition that existence itself is gift.
Concretely: these verses invite Catholics to examine the quality of their thanksgiving. Do we give thanks to "Yahweh" in the covenantal sense—returning to our baptismal identity as people claimed by a faithful, personal God? Do we confess him as "God of gods," dethroning the competing loyalties (comfort, career, approval) that quietly claim divine status in our lives? Do we acknowledge him as "Lord of lords," refusing the modern temptation to treat political or cultural power as ultimate?
One practical discipline: pray these three verses slowly before Sunday Mass as a preparation rite, letting each title expand the mind before entering the Eucharistic thanksgiving (eucharistia) that the Mass enacts.
Commentary