Psalms 66:1–4

Psalms 66:1 — "Make a joyful shout to God, all the earth!" The Hebrew verb hārî'û (rendered "make a joyful shout") carries the force of a battle cry or the triumphant acclamation of a king's subjects — not a quiet interior murmur but a full-throated, embodied act of worship. Critically, the psalm addresses not the assembly of Israel but kol-ha'aretz, "all the earth." This universalism is startling in its breadth. From the very first verse the psalmist breaks open the walls of any narrow ethnic or tribal religion: every people, every tongue, every creature on earth is conscripted into this summons. The word 'Elohim is used here rather than the covenantal YHWH, which may be deliberate — Elohim as the God of creation is accessible in principle to all nations, the common God of humanity before he is the particular God of the covenant.

Psalms 66:2 — "Sing to the glory of his name!" The command shifts from the wordless shout to articulate song — zammerû (from the root for making music) directed toward kĕbôd shĕmô, "the glory of his name." In Hebrew thought, the "name" (shem) is not a mere label but the revealed identity and active presence of God. To sing "to the glory of his name" is therefore to direct all musical energy toward the self-disclosure God has made of himself. The psalm here commissions liturgical art — poetry, melody, and voice — as legitimate and necessary vehicles of divine praise, not ornamental additions to worship but intrinsic to it. The imperative form underscores that praise is not optional; it is the vocation of every creature.

Psalms 66:3 — "Tell God, 'How awesome are your deeds!'" The congregation now speaks directly to God in the second person — a shift from proclamation about God to address to God. The exclamation mah-nôrā' ma'ăśeykā ("How awesome are your deeds!") points backward to the Exodus events (described in vv. 5–7) and forward to whatever "deeds" God performs in history. The root yārē' (awesome, fear-inducing) suggests that genuine praise is never casual; it involves holy trembling. There is an asymmetry between Creator and creature that must be felt even in joy. This is what the Catechism calls latria — adoration due to God alone (CCC 2096–2097) — distinguished by the element of holy fear from mere appreciation or gratitude.

Psalms 66:4 — "All the earth will worship you" The mood shifts subtly from command (vv. 1–2) to prophetic declaration. Yishtaḥăwû lĕkā ("will bow down/worship to you") uses a verb of prostration — physical, total self-abasement before the sovereign God. This verse functions as a prophetic vision: the universal worship that ought to happen (vv. 1–3) will happen. The psalmist sees across history to a future moment of complete divine triumph. In the Catholic typological reading, this verse prefigures the eschatological gathering of all nations — the recapitulatio of all things in Christ described by St. Irenaeus — and finds its provisional fulfillment in the Church's eucharistic liturgy, where peoples of every tongue unite in a single act of worship.

Catholic tradition hears in Psalm 66:1–4 the voice of the entire Church — and, ultimately, the voice of Christ himself praying in his Body. St. Augustine, in his Expositions of the Psalms, insists that when we read "all the earth," we must hear totus Christus — the whole Christ, Head and members — giving voice to this praise: "Let all the earth praise him, because he redeemed all the earth." The universalism of verse 1 is not merely a pious hope; it is the missionary imperative made lyrical.

The Second Vatican Council's Sacrosanctum Concilium §83 envisions the Liturgy of the Hours as the prayer of the whole Church, by which the Church "fulfills the priestly function of its Head... offering praise to God without ceasing." Psalm 66 is prayed within this tradition precisely because its universal scope exceeds what any private devotion can achieve — it is liturgical by nature.

The Catechism teaches that "adoration is the first act of the virtue of religion" (CCC 2096), and these verses model the structure of adoration perfectly: proclamation of God's greatness (v. 1), orientation toward his revealed name (v. 2), acknowledgment of his mighty acts (v. 3), and prostration before his sovereignty (v. 4). St. Thomas Aquinas in the Summa Theologiae (II-II, q. 84) identifies latria as the worship of complete submission owed to God alone — the very posture of verse 4's yishtaḥăwû.

Pope Benedict XVI, in Verbum Domini §24, notes that the Psalms form the irreplaceable school of Christian prayer precisely because they unite human longing with divine revelation. Here, the Catholic reader learns that authentic worship is never parochial; it reaches for the horizon of all humanity.

Contemporary Catholics can feel the pull of a privatized, individualistic faith — prayer as personal consolation, worship as something done "for me." Psalm 66:1–4 is a direct challenge to this tendency. The summons to "all the earth" reminds us that when we enter a Sunday Mass, we are not attending a private spiritual transaction; we are joining a cosmic liturgy that spans every nation and every age.

Practically, these verses can shape how Catholics prepare for Mass. Before entering the church, one might deliberately recall that this same Eucharistic act is being celebrated simultaneously in Lagos, Manila, São Paulo, and Warsaw — and that the praise being offered is one. The "joyful shout" of verse 1 also speaks against a timid or merely habitual worship. The body matters: the psalmist calls for full-voiced, physically engaged praise. Catholics are invited to sing at Mass not as a cultural preference but as an act of theological obedience. Finally, verse 4's prophetic confidence — "all the earth will worship you" — offers hope to those engaged in evangelization: universal worship is not wishful thinking but God's declared intention.