Psalm 122:1

To thee have I lifted up my eyes, who dwellest in heaven. (Psalm 122:1 DR)

The phrase “ad te levavi,” which begins this Psalm, is probably best known from another Psalm—Psalm 24—whose first verse serves as the Introit for the first Sunday of Advent. In that season of preparation it is fitting that the first Proper of the season contains this sense of expectation for our Lord’s Advent, in all the myriad ways in which that is liturgically expressed.

The act of “lifting up” any part of oneself is a complete reorientation of the intellect and will, a posture of humility that—whether in terms of the physical posture or the spiritual recollection—fixes its gaze upon that which is higher, namely, God who dwells in heaven.

In Psalm 24 the Psalmist lifts up his soul—ad te, Domini, levavi animam meam—turning his inward self towards the Lord. But here he expresses a similar idea, yet in terms of a very real physicality by lifting up his eyes—ad te levavi oculos meos. This physical turning is, of course, an outward expression of that same lifting up of the soul, and it is fitting that the Psalter employs the same terminology for both soul and body, encompassing the totality of the human person as a body-soul composite.

As embodied beings we do not just have an interior life that has no connection to our bodies. Such fantasies were the fever-dreams of the ancient (and sadly not-so ancient contemporary) Gnostics which ultimately denied the Incarnation of our Lord among a host of other essential Christian doctrines. But since we are a complete whole as soul and body, what we do with our bodies affects our souls, and often the very postures we take in prayer or in other liturgical actions is indicative—if not exhaustive—of the interior disposition. After all, kneeling is not strictly necessary for prayer, but a prayer that could be said while kneeling and is instead said while reclining says at least something about the disposition behind it, perhaps not in an isolated situation, but certainly as a habitual practice. The famous phrase lex orandi, lex credendi gets at this in a pithier way, for the way we conduct ourselves in prayer or in liturgy will have an affect on what we ultimately believe.

The Psalmist thus begins this Psalm with this physical act of lifting up the eyes, and in the second half expands this thought by means of juxtaposition. For him to lift up his eyes to heaven implies both that he is not in heaven but also that he has to make an effort to ascend in thought and mind to that place. In this manner the intellect precedes the will, for in his intellect he conceives of God’s dwelling place in Heaven, and then with his will turns to contemplate that reality. The physical lifting up of the eyes is thus the outward manifestation of the inward desire, which in itself also implies a movement from a state of discontent or distress:

What makes the heart of a Christian heavy? Because he is a pilgrim, and longs for his country. If your heart be heavy on this score, although you have been prosperous in the world, still you groan: and if all things combine to render you prosperous, and this world smiles upon you on every side, you nevertheless groan, because you see that you are set in a pilgrimage; and feel that you have indeed happiness in the eyes of fools, but not as yet after the promise of Christ: this you seek with groans, this you seek with longings, and by longing ascend, and while you ascend you sing the Song of Degrees. (St. Augustine, Expositions on the Psalms, 122, 1.)

The Songs of Degrees or Gradual Psalms or Psalms of Ascent are thought to have been sung by the Jewish pilgrims either as they made their way to Jerusalem (built on a hill) or up the steps to the temple. The English of the Douay-Rheims doesn’t retain this superscription, although it is present in the Vulgate, Old Latin and Septuagint. The pilgrim would thus be literally lifting up his eyes on his journey to offer sacrifice to God, and this pilgrimage characterizes the members of the Church Militant who are on their own journey to ascend to heaven. This ascent begins in the lifting up of the mind to God, symbolized by the literal lifting of the eyes:

Where then are the ladders? For we behold so great an interval between heaven and earth, there is so wide a separation, and so great a space of regions between: we wish to climb there, we see no ladder; do we deceive ourselves, because we sing the Song of Degrees, that is, the Song of ascent? We ascend unto heaven, if we think of God, who has made ascending steps in the heart. What is to ascend in heart? To advance towards God. As every man who fails, does not descend, but falls: so every one who profits does ascend: but if he so profit, as to avoid pride: if he so ascend as not to fall: but if while he profits he become proud, in ascending he again falls. But that he may not be proud, what ought he to do? Let him lift up his eyes unto Him who dwells in heaven, let him not heed himself. (St. Augustine, Expositions on the Psalms, 122, 2.)

This fitting contrast between having one’s eyes on the earth and having them lifted up to heaven fleshes out the difference between pride—which keeps one’s eyes on oneself—and humility, which focuses them on the Lord. This can be seen quite clearly in the account of Jesus walking on the water:

And Peter making answer, said: Lord, if it be thou, bid me come to thee upon the waters. And he said: Come. And Peter going down out of the boat, walked upon the water to come to Jesus. But seeing the wind strong, he was afraid: and when he began to sink, he cried out, saying: Lord, save me. And immediately Jesus stretching forth his hand took hold of him, and said to him: O thou of little faith, why didst thou doubt? (Matthew 14:28-31 DR)

It was of course when St. Peter took his eyes off of Jesus that he began to sink, for in doing so he ultimately placed them back on himself. To be sure, the account says he saw the winds and the waves, but what lies under that is his own assessment of himself and his abilities. As he started walking he had faith in our Lord and was enabled to walk, but then he turned his gaze away and back onto himself and his circumstances and his ability to manage them, at which he recognized his utter inability to deal with them. It was pride that caused him to sink, for as he perceived the situation around him, he refocused it around himself, rather than keeping his eyes fixed on our Lord in faith. However, in the grace of humility he called out to the Lord for help and was rescued.

As the Psalmist lifts his eyes to heaven, he is not engaging in some crude cosmology that perceives God as bodily existing beyond the globe of this world. Instead, the physical act embodies the interior ascent of the mind and heart and affection to heaven, which consists, as St. Paul says, of “justice and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost.” (Romans 14:17 DR) The renovation of the heart effected in Baptism and the indwelling of God’s charity in the heart by the Holy Ghost (cf. Romans 5:5) is this heaven, a soul made holy in the Lord and in which He dwells:

If, my brethren, we understand by heaven the firmament which we see with our bodily eyes, we shall indeed so err, as to imagine that we cannot ascend there without ladders, or some scaling machines: but if we ascend spiritually, we ought to understand heaven spiritually: if the ascent be in affection, heaven is in righteousness. What is then the heaven of God? All holy souls, all righteous souls. For the Apostles also, although they were on earth in the flesh, were heaven; for the Lord, enthroned in them, traversed the whole world. He then dwells in heaven. (St. Augustine, Expositions on the Psalms, 122, 3.)

This follows closely St. Paul in his Epistle to the Romans:

But the justice which is of faith, speaketh thus: Say not in thy heart, Who shall ascend into heaven? that is, to bring Christ down; or who shall descend into the deep? that is, to bring up Christ again from the dead. But what saith the scripture? The word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth, and in thy heart. This is the word of faith, which we preach. For if thou confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and believe in thy heart that God hath raised him up from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For, with the heart, we believe unto justice; but, with the mouth, confession is made unto salvation. For the scripture saith: Whosoever believeth in him, shall not be confounded. (Romans 10:6-11 DR)

In this manner when we lift our eyes to heaven we do not lift them to ourselves (as if we are anything of ourselves) but rather to Him who dwells within, for God is the one Who makes our souls into this “heaven” by the outpouring of His charity within them and the infusion of righteousness. The longing that we have in our pilgrimage through this vale of tears causes us to lift up our eyes and our affection, to put away sin and to ascend unto Him Who deigns to dwell within us:

But they are already heaven in whom God already dwells visibly, who see Him face to face; all the holy Apostles, all the holy Virtues, Powers, Thrones, Lordships, that heavenly Jerusalem, wanderers from whence we groan, and for which we pray with longing; and there God dwells. There has the Psalmist lifted up his faith, there he rises in affection, with longing hopes: and this very longing causes the soul to purge off the filth of sins, and to be cleansed from every stain, that itself also may become heaven; because it has lifted up its eyes unto Him who dwells in heaven. (St. Augustine, Expositions on the Psalms, 122, 3.)

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I found this great illustration of a penitent pilgrim and isolated it in Photoshop. In After Effects I precomped it and rigged it up with the Puppet Tool and added some slight animation to it.

In the background I placed these wavy lines and applied the Wave Warp effect to it to give it a kind of unsettled feel, intending to capture of a bit of the chaos of this pilgrimage in this vale of tears.

I added in some other textures and camera shake as well as some slight VCR effects to make it a bit more jittery.

Enjoy.

View a higher quality version of this gif here: